30 Rock (2006–2013): Season 4, Episode 1 - Season 4 - full transcript

Hello, everyone.

I'm so happy to see all of you

and to welcome you to Season Four.

Which is, of course,
the name of this restaurant,

the number one Asian
fusion restaurant in New York.

Where we will be eating the
number-one-selling food

in the rest of America.

What is this?

All right, Cheesy Blasters!

♪ You take a hot dog ♪

♪ Stuff it with some jack cheese ♪



♪ Fold it in a pizza ♪

♪ You've got Cheesy Blasters ♪

And then, all the kids say, "Thanks, Meat Cat!"

And then, Meat Cat flies away
on his, um... skateboard.

I can't eat this, I'm a foodie.

These Cheesy Blasters are
here to teach us a lesson.

The economy is struggling

and your parent company is struggling with it.

Why, because we've lost
touch with the heartland.

Consumers.

With the real America.

Okay, that's a nonsense term.

All of America is America.

Well, like it or not, you are all part of the elite.



When was the last time any of
you worked for the minimum wage?

Well, before I made it as a stand-up,

I was a bucket drummer in the subway.

That's not a real job.

Oh, yeah?

Then how come I got sued
for sexual harassment at it?

Tracy, you may come
from humble beginnings,

but you've been rich for a long time.

I think it's affecting your act.

You know how on St. Bart's,

people be eating their lobsters like this?

Don't look at me in the eyes!

Have I lost touch with my roots?

I better talk to Rabbi Shmuley about this.

Jack, if it would help the show,

I would be willing to "go country".

Really?

"Go country"?
What does that mean?

It's a totally legitimate career move, Liz.

The best way for a lady to
get heat in this industry

is to either record a country album

or have a lesbian relationship.

Uh, we'll start with "going country".

To T.G. S.

We'll trick those race-car-Ioving wideloads

into watching your lefty,
homoerotic propaganda hour yet.

Well, you just don't like anybody, do you?

Well...

Uh, Lemon, how soon can you
start the talent search?

What talent search?

Well, T.G. S. needs to find someone

who can appeal to a broader audience.

Those two do not test well outside the cities.

Uh, he's burning money again.

What about Josh?

Right, Josh, I forgot about that guy.

You think that's a good sign?

Oh, Jack, please.

Don't make me look
for a new cast member.

You make these pronouncements
on a whim, and then I have...

Lemon, this is a financial necessity.

Every division of the company

is reaching out to the
middle of the country.

Our new mammogram machine is
called the "Git-Er-Done 2000".

Another actor?

Why, they have so many
feelings and opinions?

Fine, I'll make reservations
for us at some stand-up clubs.

But don't tell anyone.

Are you kidding me?

Remember when Jenna
thought that blonde intern

wanted to be an actress?

I'm studying acting and singing.

And someday, I'm going
to be just like you.

They never did find her earlobe.

No one can know about this.

Know about what?

Pete's stealing money.

Liz's uterus fell out.

Oh, I think I already knew that.

Hm.

Thank you, Kenneth.

Sir, I have a problem with my time card.

So naturally, you came to me

because this company is just the two of us.

I received a memo saying that

pages are no longer allowed to
work more than 16 hours a day.

Uh, yes, Kenneth.

Thanks to Comrade Obama's recession,

we've had to cut overtime for pages.

Oh, It's not the money, sir.

It's just that I always
work more than 16 hours,

so I would be signing my name to a lie.

The Parcell name is
synonymous with honesty.

As the Hill People say, "Parcell
gaw say del go up de saw say."

We've all had to make sacrifices, Kenneth.

I had to downsize the Payroll Department

to one guy and an envelope stuffing machine.

Today's my birthday.

You can hand in an accurate time card

as soon as we can pay for it.

But trust me, we literally have no extra money.

So do your part.

Sign your time card.

"Dah don say da bay ton daw."

Kenneth?

Boo!

Thank you, sir.

Elizabeth, I have your paycheck.

Thank you, Peter.

All right, we're on for
8:00 at the Stand-Up Cellar.

Then we're going to N.Y.U.
to see that improv troupe.

Okay, I guess we leave
separately and then meet there?

I hate being sneaky.

Well, luckily, everybody here is dumb,

and you and I are good at lying.

What are you two
lovebirds whispering about?

Nothing.

Uterus nothing.

Jeez, I was just joking.

I blame you and Dotcom.

You two have built a protective shell around me

like a hermit crab or a mermaid boobie.

And now, I've lost touch with the common man!

Eek, who is that?

This is Rolly, the custodian.

You said you wanted an ordinary
person to reconnect with.

Oh, hey, guy, come on in.

So Rolly, where are you from?

Brooklyn.

Right on, my brother.

My dear friend, Moby, opened
up a tea house in Park Slope.

Does he know you?

Hey, Rolly.

You ever lose your remote control?

Yeah.

And then your wife starts getting all mad

because the roof won't
close and the bed that's

in the shape of your face is getting rained on?

I like you, Rolly.

Can I feel the rough skin on your hands?

Sorry about that.

What do you mean, that was weird?

You've sheltered me too much.

I'm going out on the street,

and I don't want nobody to follow me.

Nobody!

Um... which one is the
elevator I'm not afraid of?

Right.

Oopsies, I think the machine gave me

someone else's paycheck.

John Francis Donaghy.

Hey, he's got a girl's middle name too.

But he said sacrifice.

And no overtime.

So many zeros.

I thought you were
leaving 10 minutes ago of me.

Oh, well, we're going two separate places.

So it's not weird.

No, nothing is ever weird now.

Oh, hey, Liz, you want to share a cab?

I can't.

I'm picking up my "new
tritionist" and his elderly son.

Pete, are you driving uptown?

Love you too!

Bye!

Good morning, Mr. Donaghy.

I would like to speak to you on
behalf of all the N.B.C. pages.

I'll give you a New York minute.

That's seven seconds.

Well, sir, we pages and I feel

that me and they are not being treated fairly

as regards paychecking.

I'm nervous.

We demand that you give us back our overtime.

We went over this yesterday, Kenneth.

There's no money.

Sir, I accidentally saw your paycheck.

Well, I hope it was inspirational.

All those zeros.

It's downright un-American.

That's where you're wrong, Kenneth.

It's extremely American.

My talents are more valuable than yours,

so I'm paid accordingly.

Therefore, I'm entitled to my bonus.

That's a bonus check?

You said there was no extra money.

"Bonus" means "extra".

I know that from game shows.

You lied to me.

I didn't lie, Kenneth.

I massaged the truth.

What do you need to move past this?

Well, sir, you made a liar out of me

by making me sign that time card.

I would like you to sign
your name to a piece of paper

that says, "I am a big, ol' liar."

I'm not doing that.

Well, then, we pages have no
choice but to go on strike.

I like you, Kenneth.

But you do not want to
mess with me right now.

I am in the middle of a raging period!

Of economic turmoil.

Too late, sir!

Page strike!

I will wait.

Ken, how do I get out of this building?

What do we want?

To get you sandwiches!

When do we want it?

Whenever will
be convenient for you!

What do we want?

To get you sandwiches!

When do we want it?

Whenever will
be convenient for you!

What do we want?

To get you sandwiches!

When do we want it?

Whenever will
be convenient for you!

What do we want?

To get you...

Lemon, how's our talent search going?

The worst.

I'm lying to everybody

about something I don't
even want to be doing.

Pete and I keep
accidentally touching knees

under those little comedy club tables.

What is a new cast member?

Shut up, shut up, here it comes.

Good morning, y'all.

Well, who is this Southern peach?

Do you know the song "Are
You Ready For Some Football?"

Do I?

That's what my phone plays
whenever Ray Lewis calls me.

Well, you are going to record a rollicking,

new Southern rock theme for N.B.C. Sports.

Yee-haw!

What sports does
N.B.C. have these days?

Oh, off-season tennis.

Liz, I'm going to need
Jenna all day today.

No, Wednesday is a very
important rehearsal day.

Where's Kenneth?

Picketing the building.

Whatever religious undergarment
Kenneth wears is in a twist

because I took my bonus this year.

Ooh, they lost their overtime,
and you took a bonus?

Is someone going
to answer these phones?

Studio 6-H, hello?

Hello!

Hello?

Why don't you give them some overtime

out of your giant bonus?

Aren't you trying to be
Johnny America right now?

I am Johnny America.

And this strike ends now.

Hello, is anyone there?

I'm in a sort of tunnel and I
see a man with a blue uniform.

I think he's a friend.

Uh... Oh, never mind.

There's a door, I'm out.

Oh, it's sunny!

Hello, fellow human being.

Would you like to ask me what time it is?

Are you a large child or a small adult?

You look regular.

Can I guess your name?

Is it Pedro?

Is it Craigford?

Is it Swimming?

Are you a pre-op transcentaur?

Excuse me.

Do you have change for a $10,000 bill?

I would like some chicken nuggets, a beer,

and some of my wife's rice, to stay.

Excuse me, sir.

Do you want to hold hands
with a black millionaire?

Does anyone want to be my friend?

I'm normal!

Len, this page strike is an
embarrassment to the company.

I get it.

It's like I tell my assistant.

Your weight is a reflection on me.

I can't have that apple-cheeked goon

outside screaming about my bonus.

What are my options?

Let me ask you a question, Mr. Donaghy.

How do you kill a snake?

You cut off the head.

Of course!

Thank you.

Now I won't be afraid to go into my garage.

Here's how we play this page thing.

I go undercover, infiltrate the union.

Take this Parcell guy down from the inside.

Very well.

And you have undercover experience?

They used to call me the Chameleon.

Ah.

Because of my slender
frame and my big, wet eyes.

Has anybody seen my wallet?

It's an L.L. Bean child's
wallet from the 1970s.

There's no money in it,
but I was one hole-punch away

from a free Tasti D-Lite.

Damn it to hell!

I hate my life!

Liz, maybe you left your wallet

in a friend's car last night.

Maybe, and maybe I will run
into that friend again tonight.

And then, I will get it back from her.

Yes, she will give it back
to you when he goes home

and gets it from her wife.

What's up with you two?

You've been acting weird all week.

Weird?

You left together last night.

And then, later, I saw you
in front of a comedy club.

Oh, boy.
Uterus...

Are you guys doing it?

Yes, yes, we are doing it.

No!

So there you go, case closed.

Pete and I are intercoursing each other.

Hi, honey.

Liz, I found your wallet
in what our children call

"the big, wed cawr".

No, Paula, no.

Let me get through this.

If this is what Pete needs,

I would be willing to welcome
you into our lovemaking.

No, it's no.

Pete, I know that I
haven't been very sexual

since my mother died.

No, stop, Paula, stop.

Okay, now, look.

We... Pete and I have been sneaking around

because Jack is making us
look for a new cast member.

Yeah, but you can't tell any of the actors.

Do you not see me?

Oh, dang it.

I keep forgetting about you.

You know what?

I've had it with this place.

I don't need this this show,

because I could get a job
tomorrow in the Air Force!

I quit!

Oh, somebody help him out, for God's sake.

You've got to use your lower back.

That's incorrect!

Lift with your legs!

Attention.

Attention, everyone.

Strike update.

I am happy to report that
Local 415 has joined our cause!

I think we should just give up.

Yeah, Brandon's right!

They are a blanket union

that includes mall Santas,

horse whisperers, and bucket drummers.

Hey, dudes.

I'm organizing a viral protest
on "Tweeter" and "Youtubes".

Anyone wants to get in on that,

just write down your social security numbers.

I'm sorry, Brandon.

What show are you assigned to again?

Donahue.

Hey, Tray.

How's the connecting
to the common man going?

It's going super great, Dotcom.

Meet my new friends, "Nobody", and his wife,

"Susan Walters-Hyphen-Nobody".

I'm so far from my roots, I
don't think I'll ever get back.

What's that sound?

Bucket drummers!

Once I'm vested, I'm out of here.

Who are we?

Pages!

Mall Santas!

And what do we want?

Overtime!

Cleaner beards!

These... these are my people!

Bucket drummers, if you are striking, so am I.

Two, four, six, eight,

10, 12, 14, 16, 18.

♪ It's tennis night in America ♪

♪ Grab some buds and some brews,
it's going to be a fight ♪

Okay, I have to tell
her that Josh quit

without her getting wind of
the "new cast member" part.

Well, do it now, while
she's drunk on attention.

Or in an hour, when she's just drunk.

Hm.

Good, let's take five.

You look pretty!

Did you hear what happened?

I am so upset.

Oh, no, okay, let me explain.

I came in here to shoot these tennis promos,

and they had blue gels on the lights.

You know that makes
my teeth look see through.

You weren't here to do your job, Liz.

Okay, well, Josh quit.

Who?

Jack's counting on
Country Jenna to save the show.

But I just want to understand what it is

that's distracting you from the one thing

you've been told to do.

Really, you want to know what I've been doing?

Yes, Liz.

Enlighten me.

Jack is hiring a new cast member.

If it is a blonde woman, I will kill myself!

Jenna Maroney is great!

No new cast member!

New what?

If it's a blonde woman,
I'm going to kill myself!

I don't know what to tell you, Mr. Donaghy.

Sympathy strikers.

Celebrities.

Clever signs.

This strike is getting out of control.

Then step up the pressure, Len.

Take Parcell down.

I can't, the man is incorruptible.

He was impervious to the
charms of the "Nympho Coed".

Charlene LaRue.

Guide me.

Tell me what to do, Nixon.

May I come in, Kenneth?

Of course, sir.

Would you like something to eat?

I have some leftover turtle meat from dinner.

Or as you would call it, "bonus" turtle meat.

I'll just make myself a drink, if you don't mind.

Where's the bar?

Well, there's a bar in the shower

that the previous tenant
installed to keep from slipping.

He still died in there, though.

Huh.

We're not so different.

You and I.

Those glasses are for display only.

We both grew up poor.

We both put work above all else.

And yet, when people look at you,

they see who they want to be.

When they look at me, they see who they are.

Sir, you sound like the mall Santas

when they come back from lunch.

You win, Kenneth.

You have the moral high
ground, I can't change that.

But I can destroy you.

If the pages are not back
at work tomorrow morning,

I am shutting down the page program.

Forever.

You wouldn't.

Josh refuses to un-quit.

Jenna and Tracy are on strike.

We have no actors.

Now we could rerun episode 214.

No, no.

That's the one where Tracy tore
up that picture of the Pope.

In his defense, it was
Pope Innocent the Fourth.

Because he increased
taxation in the Papal States.

Well, where are your solutions, Liz Lemon?

You know, this whole thing is your fault.

Wait, it's not my fault?

Blame Jack or Kenneth or Tracy.

Or Meat Cat.

Because I've had the Cheesy
Blasters for three days.

We have no show, Liz.

You'd better hope that strike ends soon.

Why, so they can all go back
to making my life a living hell?

I hope they stay on strike forever!

Is this really our first week back?

Whenever would
be convenient for you!

Who are we?

Pages!

And what do we want?

What are you still doing here, Kenneth?

I made myself clear.

Well, sir, now that I know you're a liar,

I was wondering if you were lying about

canceling the page program.

And then, I thought, if there were no pages,

you'd have to pay somebody
real money to do our jobs.

And give them health insurance.

And if you don't even have
money to pay our overtime,

then you certainly can't afford all that.

What do you want?

You know what I want, sir.

I am a big, 'ol liar.

The strike is over!

What did we get?

A piece of paper that I
can't really tell you about!

Wait.

Was this strike just over a personal thing

between you and Mr. Donaghy?

Massage it, Kenneth.

No, it wasn't!

♪ It's tennis night in America ♪

♪ Got some buds and some brews,
it's going to be a fight ♪

♪ So put down your meth
and slip on your whites ♪

♪ 'Cause here in real
America, it's tennis night ♪

♪ Serve it up and smash it
the American way ♪

Slawomir Mleczko
versus Kryzsztof Mlynarkiewicz.

♪...Are ready to play ♪

In the
Barnett Cup Semifinal.

In the what?

♪ Got my lawn chair in my
trunk, not an ocean in sight ♪

♪ So kiss my ass, New York,
'cause it's tennis night ♪