30 Rock (2006–2013): Season 4, Episode 11 - Winter Madness - full transcript

When Liz Lemon decides to take the TGS show on the road to cure a case of the winter blues for the staff, the anticipated trip doesn't exactly go as planned. Jack Donaghy chooses the destination and travels with the show for his own interest, and while away from New York, the TGS crew blames Liz for all of their misfortunes.

Good morning, Lemon.

Ugh, I hate January.

It's dark and freezing and
everyone's wearing bulky coats,

so you can do some
serious subway flirting

before you realize
the guy is homeless.

Work is awful.

Everyone's snippy and tense.

Well, the lack of sun
makes people depressed.

It's called Seasonal Affective Disorder.

Oh, is that where the
word "sad" comes from?

What?



You think "sad" is an acronym
invented by psychologists?

I've been stuck inside
playing online Boggle.

It's messing with my head.

Star, rats, arts, tars.

Ah, it's from Nancy.

She said she's in line
behind the female Larry Bird.

Oh, God.

There's a photo.

Oh, come on.

How is female Larry Bird
holding hands with a guy?

What am I doing wrong?

What's that for?

I'm telling Nancy that I'm
with female Kevin McHale.

So what's going on with
you and Nancy, anyway?



We're just friends.

It's platonic.

I have elaborate fantasies
of her husband dying

in a boat explosion.

But she's getting divorced, right?

Well, she hasn't mentioned it.

It's not the sort of thing
you discuss by text or email.

Well, this is my stop.

Stop, pots, tops...

Opts, post.

Morning, Kenneth.

Good morning, Miss Lemon.

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to snap at you.

I've got Winter Madness.

Lutz?

Do the right thing.

What's going on?

It's Lutz's turn to
pick where we eat today.

Oh, boy.

Lutz, don't do this.

But it's my turn to pick.

I'm the picker.

Lutz, look at me.

It's a long year.

Think of the group.

Subway.

Whoa, guys!

Calm down!

I know we're all
tired and cranky.

But we've just got to get
to the end of the season.

And hey, who knows?

Maybe some people won't
be coming back next year.

I don't care.

Worth it.

Oh, hello.

Hey, Jack.

Going to the... octopus.

Nancy, I'm sorry, the audio's bad.

Jonathan, why do I
have an Indian assistant

if my computer is always...

Jack...

I'm messing with you.

Oh, very funny, Donova...

Oh, the computer froze.

Nice.

So, uh...

To what do I owe the pleasure?

I wanted to tell you I'm
coming down to New York.

Oh, really? When?

June 5th.

For my son's graduation.

So five months from now.

Okay.

Well, maybe you'll
come up here before then?

Well, my 25th reunion
from Harvard Business School

is June 5th.

That's too bad.

Well, I should go.

I've got to scrape the
icicles off the gutters.

I'm tired of waking up to a
porch full of dead squirrels.

God, I miss Boston.

See you.

Liz, I have an idea.

Something to boost morale.

Pete, no.

I listened to you when you
wanted to take the staff

to see that r-rated
hypnotist, and that sucked.

He was pretty bad.

Nutmeg.

No, rodeo, rodeo, rodeo.

Look, I think we can take
the show to Miami for a week.

What?

Can we afford to do that?

If we do it on the
cheap, double up rooms.

Think about it, Liz.

Florida.

I can rent a covertible.

You can complain about the
heat with elderly people.

I can sell this to Jack.

Cross promotional.

Deal mechanics.

Revenue streams.

Jargon.

Synergy.

That's the best
presentation I've ever seen.

Get started right away.

One little thing.

Instead of Miami, make it Boston.

But I...
I bought a parrot shirt.

Whoo!

Okay, exciting news, guys.

This week, T.G. S.
is going on the road!

There's a rumor that
it's Miami, is it Miami?

Close.

It is a city with
an N.B.A. team.

And even though Will Smith
never wrote any raps about it

the poet, Robert Lowell, lived there.

Okay, we're going to Boston,
no one's happy about it.

It's freezing!

No, no, no, it's going to be fun.

How?

Their bars close at 2:00.

You know, I went to college in Boston.

Well, not in Boston, but nearby.

No, not Tufts.

Shut up.

It's 14 degrees up there.

How is that supposed
to make us feel better?

Harvard.

You have been told to shut up.

Come on, silver lining!

It's a fun vacation
on the show's dime.

FYI, to pay for this vacation,
we need to cut some corners.

So we will be doubling up hotel
rooms and we are going by bus.

Also, there is no SpectraVision
or internet in the hotel

so plan ahead, gentlemen.

Porn-wise.

Did Pete just say we're
doubling up rooms?

Did he?

Oh, this is the worst.

What if, uh, you
and I roomed together?

Oh, no, Toofer and I
already talked about it.

You can't have talked about it!

You just said you didn't
even know about it!

You think I like sharing
a room with Toofer?

Dude is still playing that Obama song.

And yeah, I know
you're standing there!

Hey, fellows.

We're getting Tracy his own room,

so I assume you
two will pair up?

Why would you just assume
we would room together?

Why would he assume we wouldn't?

I don't know.

Maybe because one
of us still hasn't read

the other's screenplay.

I read it.

I just didn't like it.

Hey, Cerie.

I thought you and I
could be roommates.

Go out, meet guys, share
clothes like twinsies.

What size are you?

Usually, designers
just make clothes for me.

But when I do buy stuff,
I'm a child's medium.

Well, I only wear designer labels.

These are Jamie Foxx for Assfarm.

But I can't room with you.

Sue and I already talked about it.

Why?

You know Sue says stuff
about you behind your back.

What, she always says
stuff to me about you.

Wait... what?

I was making my thing up.

You bitch.

What did you tell
her, you vondruke?

Liz Lemon, I can't go to Boston.

Oh, Tracy, come on.

You don't understand.

I get in trouble on the road.

Thank you, thank you.

It's great to be here in Cleveland.

You suck.

I suck?

The Rock and Roll
Hall of Fame sucks.

Hello.

The road is a minefield, L.L.

All those angry drunks
and new temptations?

Yeah, I don't know what to tell you.

This Boston thing is Jack's idea.

That stupid, Irish, piece of...

Oh, boy.

Boston is not going to go well.

♪ WBHD Boston ♪

Hey, leave him alone!

Stop it!

Miss Lemon, these gentlemen
are the writers for Bruins Beat,

whose offices we'll be sharing.

They're all named Sean, they
are mean, and I hate it here.

Liz, Mr. Donaghy would
like to see you in his office.

What, what?

Boys, come on.

Ow!

Liz, Liz, help!

Liz, Liz!

You've got to be kidding me.

What, are you not using an
office replication service

while we're here in Boston?

Is it identical?

Not quite.

Seven items are different.

See if you can spot which ones.

So how's the show
looking for Friday?

Like it may not happen, actually.

Well, that will really
disappoint your key demographic

of drunken 11-year-olds.

Look, I know for you, this is all just a way

to meet married ladies, but it is my job.

Let me give you some advice
on uniting a divided people.

Find a common enemy.

A common enemy.

For example, what keeps
people polite on airplanes?

A shared hatred of the C.B.S.
sitcoms they're forced to watch.

No, I understand the concept.

Because with these dummies,
the common enemy is always me.

And I'm sick of it.

I'm not going to be
the bad guy this time.

Then find someone else.

I recommend Lutz.

Why do I always want
to choke that guy?

You just do.

But that's not my...

Am I interrupting?

Of course not.

Oh.

You're not a part of this, Liz.

Why didn't you tell me
you were coming up here?

I wanted it to be a surprise.

I hope that you, and, of course, Mark

will come to the show on Friday.

I can't believe I'm in the
same building as Bruins Beat.

Come on, give me a tour.

Of course.

Ooh, actually,
I'm going to tag along.

I still haven't had a
formal tour of the facility.

Zzt.

So I'm going to stay here.

Why the long face?

Your boss there making
your life miserable?

It's complicated, Sean.

I know what it's like.

I'm the head writer of Bruins Beat.

Trying to have it all?

It's wicked hard.

Is this where they do the news?

Small, isn't it?

I've found that news anchors
and breasts are always smaller

than they look on T.V.

You can try it.

I feel like Chet Curtis
and Natalie Jacobson.

Tonight's top story.

A Worcester man accused
of trading his foster son

for gasoline.

And later in the hour, 10 tips
on how to make your cat's

birthday go "Purr-fectly

Back to you, Nat.

Nancy, are you okay?

Oh, God.

I swore I wasn't going
to cry in front of you.

Mark left.

Yesterday.

He took a job in New Orleans.

What?

What about his roofing company?

Apparently, Brad Pitt
and Sharon Stone

did a crap job re-building
those Katrina homes.

Mark thinks that he can
make a fortune down there.

But I know the real reason he left.

He wants to force me to be
the one to ask for the divorce.

So you guys are having problems?

I'm sorry.

Oh, Jack, it's a mess.

Suddenly, he has
his own bank account.

We've had our house
on the market for a year.

And neither one of us know
what to do about the dog,

because we both hate it.

Have you talked
openly about divorce?

Yeah, we talked to Dr. Phil

And then we made a collage
in our dream journals.

No.

You know how it is up here.

People don't talk.

They just run off to New Orleans

and jump on that B.S.
Saints bandwagon.

Go Pats.

Oh, Donovan, I hate
seeing you like this.

Well, I've got to get going.

I've got an open house tomorrow.

And Mark was supposed to shovel
the walk and salt the carport.

I can barely understand you,
but let me help while I'm here.

Do you know how to
re-wire a doorbell?

I do if you can resuscitate
an electrocuted person.

Can you wire the doorbell to the dog?

Okay, that's lunch!

Dude, why do you
keep fixing my spelling?

We're back in at 3:00.

No, 3:30.

Enjoy the town, everyone!

You're welcome.

Now who would like to join
me on a morale-boosting tour

of Boston's historic Freedom Trail?

Ooh, I would.

"N't."

Now what am I supposed to do?

I've got free time in a strange city.

Why don't you come on the
Freedom Trail with me?

It's an educational walking tour.

"Purr-fect"!

Like a cat birthday!

How can I possibly get in
trouble on a walking tour?

Smash cut to...

And I, John Hancock,
with one stroke of my pen,

set all Americans free.

You lying, white devil!

The only people you set free

were rich, white
dudes like yourself!

I think my good friend and
supervisor, Paul Revere,

can address that.

I'm out, Kenny.

Hey, you know what?

We're gonna go.

Man, no!

Most dudes that signed the
Declaration of Independence

owned slaves!

What about you, John Hancock?

Well, technically, I
just inherited my slaves.

I knew it!

For a dude that has the
most hilarious last name

I've ever heard, you blow!

We didn't land on Plymouth Rock!

Plymouth Rock landed on Mars!

All right, give it a try.

Okay.

Ah, I have many
other valuable skills.

It'll be the new owner's problem.

Just like the water heater.

And the ghost.

Well, it is a buyer's
market right now.

I think it'll turn around
in the next year or so.

Oh, I can't wait that long.

I got to sell this place
if I want to get divorced.

What do you mean?

Well, there's no money, Jack.

If I can get some cash out of this place,

then I can start a new life.

Buy a condo in Marina Bay.

Open a store for red-headed
girls to buy cosmetics

from someone who understands.

So you need to sell
this house to get divorced?

Basically.

You looking for a
country estate in Waltham?

There it is, see?

Why did you even
get to pick lunch again?

Because it's my birthday.

And thanks for remembering.

I'm 45.

It's kind of a big deal.

Who orders food
from a gas station?

The Shell by me has good hot dogs.

Guys, guys, come on.

We're all in this together.

Shut up, Liz!

This is your fault.

It's not my fault.

I tried to do something nice.

It was Jack...

Sure, find a scapegoat.

Just like John Hancock did
with the good King George.

Jack made us come to Boston.

This isn't about Boston.

Boston was just the match
that lit the powder keg.

Like the tragic events
at Lexington and Concord.

That's right.

We are sick of the
long hours, the crappy food,

sharing offices with the one
black guy in New York who sucks.

Getting stuck with
new cast members

who don't even hit on us once.

Stop trying to send dirty text
messages to my landline, Jenna!

And the winter.

Oh, Lord, the winter.

Really, you're blaming me for winter?

Well we've
got to blame someone.

Who's it going to be if it's not you?

You want someone to blame?

I'll give you someone to blame.

Dale Snitterman.

Okay, I'm out.

Who the hell is Dale Snitterman?

Dale Snitterman is the guy at N.B.C.

who makes all the decisions
that make us unhappy.

Snitterman is the one
who cancelled taco night

in the commissary.

Snitterman is the one
who okayed that cast photo

where your hair looks green.

He's the one who
keeps rejecting your

"summer shorts for the pages" idea.

Sounds like one of King George's
hated tax collectors.

Exactly.
Thank you, Tracy.

You guys think I'm the bad guy?

Fine, I don't care.

But I fight for you every day.

And if Dale Snitterman had his way,

this show wouldn't even be on.

That vondruke!

And all we can do

to get back at him is put on
the best damn show that we can.

And not give him the satisfaction

of everybody turning on each other.

Or me.

I love you guys.

You wanted to see the
world's greatest manager?

Is Kiyoshi Kawashima
of Honda here?

No, it's me.

I'm a genius.

I made up a fake N.B.C. executive

and blamed everything that
has ever gone wrong on him.

The imaginary enemy.

Classic move, Lemon.

The Salem Witch Trials,
the Red Scare, global warming.

Now that you've cleaned
up your little mess,

I'll need to borrow
some of your people

to go to an open house
in Waltham for me.

Charlie What-now?

Nancy spilled everything.

Her husband left.

And they're getting
divorced if she can find

someone to buy their house.

And that someone is you.

I'm just going to be the money man.

The transaction will be
conducted by one of your staff,

who will be operating under the

alter ego Silas
Marymount-Peppercorn.

A name I came up with.

Oh, you should have come
to me for your fake name.

My executive?

Dale Snitterman.

Amazing, Lemon.

Where do you come up
with this stuff?

Well, you know, the creative
process is always a mystery.

I just wish I could get inside
that marvelous brain of yours.

Oh, wait, I can.

Okay, in this instance, the
creative process was that

I saw that name, forgot that
I saw it and said it later.

Then, in 1754, I graduated from
university here in Boston.

Well, not in Boston, but nearby.

No, not Tufts.

Don't listen to him!

We fell for his lies 300 years ago.

Don't let this slave-owning
time-traveler fool us again!

Excuse me.

John Hancock was a patriot.

Then patriots are overrated.

Hey!

What'd you say about the Patriots?

I said they suck!

Uh-oh, here come the punches.

This was all Snitterman's fault!

Are you here for the open house?

Hello, we are here
from a different town

for the open house,
because we are interested

in purchasing a
house in this area.

I'm Nancy, the owner.

I am Silas Marymount-Peppercorn.

And this is my first wife.

Moronica.

It's nice to meet you.

I'm British.

My wife and I have disparate
levels of attractiveness,

because I am
a successful inventor.

Well, I've got to be honest.

I was wondering.

Well, all right.

It's a three bedroom.

And a partially finished basement.

Partially finished?

I'll take it!

Dudes!

You're not going
to believe this.

Snitterman is here!

What?

I was
wandering around upstairs

checking out the local
cleaning lady talent

and I found that
son of a bitch's office!

He's in Boston?

We should go up
there and mess him up

for all the crap he's put us through.

Right, Liz?

Let's get him!

Yeah!

Okay, don't...

Okay... Oh, boy.

You little bitch!

What?

Look at you, you're just a suit.

You're nobody.

I don't even know why
I was scared of this guy.

Look, there must be some mistake.

Don't try to explain
yourself, Snitterman.

You don't talk!

You don't talk at all!

Okay, I think he's really scared.

We've done enough here.

Never!

Lutz, truffle-shuffle him!

Truffle shuffle!

Truffle shuffle!

Truffle shuffle!

Truffle shuffle!

Yeah, take that, Snitterman!

That's what you get for
making us work late tonight!

Yeah!

We're working late
tonight because of you!

So how was the open house?

Well, somebody
actually came for once.

Nice, young couple.

Weird last name, though.

I'm sure your name is weird to them.

Uh, any reason to open this?

Did they make an offer?

No, they didn't.

Really? Are you sure?

Yeah, that house
is never going to sell.

I'm going to take it off the market

and see what happens
in a year or so.

But what about your plans?

The condo?

The store for pale teens?

I can't run a store
and make change for people.

Have another open house.

I bet someone offers cash this time.

Not with that broken doorbell.

We'll have it fixed.

No, I had an offer, okay?

For 10 grand over the asking price.

So what's the problem?

The problem is that I've
been married for 23 years.

The dumb house was just
an excuse to stay put.

You know, I'm not ready
for a new life, Jack.

Not ready?
Nancy, we're 50.

Yeah, and that's too old
to rush into anything.

You know, you're not
from here anymore.

You know, down in
New York, people are like,

"Let's get divorced.

"You marry the butler,
and I'll be a gay Octomom."

It's different here.

People judge you.

Who cares what people
around here think?

Your neighbors named
their daughter Belichick!

I don't want to
talk about it anymore.

Of course you don't
want to talk about it,

you repressed, Irish maniac.

Don't want to talk about it!

You must know that I
have feelings for you.

No, not talking!

And I don't want to pressure you,

but if you were divorced...

No, let's go to Kelly's.

Let's get some roast beef.

Nancy, let me talk.

I'll give you two words.

Ten.

Four, final offer.

I'll wait.

Not forever.

I'll try.

Wicked hard.

Tracy, there you are!

I want you to meet my fellow
revolutionary and dear friend,

Crispus Attucks.

So you can see, John Hancock
has black friends.

Uh-huh.

And when did you two meet?

Why, we met at the
Sons of Liberty gathering.

Uh, when was that, Crispus?

1775?

Really?

So five years after
Crispus Attucks was killed

in the Boston Massacre?

Run, Crispus!

He's on to us!