30 Rock (2006–2013): Season 6, Episode 16 - Nothing Left to Lose - full transcript

I've finished my Kabletown self evaluation!

Nailed it.

"My greatest weakness is humility.

I'm probably the most humble
person in the whole world."

I wrote that.

These self-evaluations are a charade.

People cannot be impartial
about themselves.

You should read what some
of your coworkers wrote.

What three words best describe me?

The. Complete. Package.

My greatest weakness...
Is chocolate.



Surprisingly the only person
who was honest was Jenna.

None.

"I am the worst person I know.

"When I used to live with Liz,
I would videotape her sleeping

and sell it to Japanese businessmen"?

No wonder that tour group kept
calling me "sleep whore-San."

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

Don't read that.

I filled it out last night

after mixing alcohol
with prescription... exhaustion.

I need to redo it.

I can't believe I have
to read all of these.

This is the biggest waste of time

since NBC's diversity writing program.



That was a good idea, but all
of our actors are so white.

Slap it to me, Daddy-O.

Popo popped dookie down by the vacants.

6x16 - Nothing Left To Lose

This is Jenna.
What are you wearing?

Jenna, love,

it's English director Christopher Nolan.

Mr. Nolan, I saw you across the room

at the Dark Knight premiere.

I was shooting blow darts at Maggie
Gyllenhal from a heating vent.

Yes. How would you like
to be in my next movie?

I quit this show!

To hell with you all!

Go to hell!

I just need you to do a
quick camera test for me.

so I went to Times Square,
did cartwheels like he asked...

Oh, boy.

We got the whole thing on tape.

This was a prank?

This isn't body paint.

It's a spray they use
to kill geese at airports.

What happened, J-Mo?

Did you pass out in
a goose costume at LaGuardia?

Ugh, what is that smell, Tracy?

It's the new fragrance I designed.

It's called "Desire,"

but with a "Z" instead of the second "E."

What is that supposed to smell like?

All my favorite things.

The Knicks, a mop from
a strip club, a carefree hobo,

a crate with a new giraffe
in it, and broccoli.

It smells disgusting.

Yeah, I wouldn't know.

I lost my sense of smell years ago.

But when one sense goes away,
the others make up for it.

I have an incredible sense of touch.

I feel an old Jack-o-lantern
from last Halloween.

Are you serious?

You can't smell?

Why haven't you been to a doctor?

Who has the time,

with work, family and hobbies
and listing excuses?

Oh, my.

It smells like grandma's house
at Christmas.

That's when we found her
dead on the toilet.

Pete, I spent the morning going over

these Kabletown self-evaluations.

Your evaluation gave me pause.

Are you sure?

Those look like hands to me.

Here's the problem.

In answer to the question,

"where do you see yourself
in five years?"

You wrote, "right where I am."

That's an unacceptable answer.

I mean, what if
the Wright brothers had said,

"let's just keep making bicycles,"

or Alexander windowblinds had said,

"no, I don't want
to partially see outside"?

Yeah, no, I get what you're saying,

but I'm Pete Hornberger.

The last time I tried to put
myself out there,

the girl turned out to be a cop.

Do you understand how this
attitude reflects on me?

I am also required to complete

one of these inane self-evaluations.

It's a farce.

What?
Like Frasier?

But that's fun...

But I can't say
I'm succeeding as a manager

if you're failing as an employee.

You have no ambition, Pete.

No, no, you don't understand.

For me, that five years
thing is very ambitious.

Look at my life, Jack.

My father was a congressman.

I was valedictorian at St. Andrew's,

an olympic archer,
fourth guitarist in Loverboy...

As a teenager.

It's almost unbelievable.

If it weren't all true,

I'd say it doesn't even make sense.

But now look at me.

The last two decades
have been a freefall.

If I could stay in the same
place for the next five years,

that would be a huge accomplishment.

Do you know who you remind me of?

George W. Bush,

during his "let's do coke and
buy the Texas rangers" phase.

But he made a decision
to be the best president ever

and then he was.

You've lost your mojo, Pete.

And I'm going to get it back for you.

Well, something is definitely
obstructing your sinus cavity.

Now we have two options.

I can either drill a hole in the back
of your head,

and push it out with your brain...

Okay, that sounds good.

Or I could just pull it out
through your nostril.

We'll do the second one.
Thank you.

You know, they don't tell you
this until after you've paid

for medical school, but being a doctor

is exactly like the game "Operation."

And there we go.

My buck Rogers decoder ring!

How long has that been in there?

Those things are from the '70s.

Yeah, you know what else
is from the '70s?

Women staying quiet.

I totally remember this.

When I was nine, I found it
on the floor of the "G" train.

I knew if my Foster mom saw it,
she would make me sell it

at a pawn shop
to get our family a cheerio.

Okay, sometimes I think the stories

of your childhood poverty
are exaggerated, but continue.

So I hid the ring up my nose.

I must have forgot about it.

You may feel some burning and tingling,

but you should regain normal
sensation in just a few hours.

Oh, I'm sorry, I was talking
to my lover on my Bluetooth.

Uh, one moment, Suki.

Anyway, Tracy, you should start

regaining sensation in less than an hour.

But a newly regained sense
can be a very powerful thing.

Even overwhelming.

So if you do have an extreme reaction,

please try to get it on video
for my nephew's funny website.

Uh, Liz, are you getting
enough vitamin "C"?

May I suggest messily eating
an orange while I photograph it?

Kenneth, what do you know about revenge?

Well, the Bible says it's wrong,

but it's the surprise hit
of the season on ABC,

so I don't know.

Anyway, I know how busy you are,

so I got you some more tattoo concealer.

Thank you.

I just ran out.

I was so young when I got this.

Who even remembers 2007?

Wait, how did you know
I was out of concealer?

From your trash, Mrs. Maroney.

The garbage man knows all.

In this big trash bag,
I see everyone's mistakes,

their embarrassing secrets,

their dreams they don't
dare share with anyone.

Oh!

Like this.

Interesting.

Kenneth, you don't happen to have

the other writers' trash
in there, do you?

No.

I can't handle that much volume.

I'm kidding.

They call me "the natural."

I'm so good, the other janitors

just sit in the basement all day

getting drunk and laughing about
this idiot they know.

Oh, no.

Kenneth, this concealer
is the wrong color.

Oh, no.

I'll be right back.

Keep an eye on my trash cart?

Oh, I'll keep an eye on it.

Look at us, laughing together,

like a couple of Jews watching
The Daily Show.

This is the gym of
the New York racquet club, Pete.

Theodore Roosevelt was a member here.

In fact, many of the animal heads

mounted downstairs were shot by T.R.

Including the one that looked
like a terrified Asian man?

It was a different time, Pete.

Today, the most powerful men in New York

still come here to exercise.

And nothing is a better workout
for body and soul than boxing.

It's the first sport man ever invented.

Except of course, uh, hide and seek.

Shh.

Uh, yeah.

Boxing is primal, Pete.

It's exactly what you need.

So come on, don't just stand there.

Throw a punch, feel like a man.

A man who, years ago,
was on top of the world,

who saw Paula and dragged her
back to his cave.

Actually she took me that first night.

Hit something.

Put your frustration into your fists

and hit something!

Hornberger!

Get up, Pete.

Get up and fight.

For God's sake, Hornberger,
the dummy is winning!

Why are you kissing it?

I'm submitting to its strength.

It's the Alpha.

Good morning, fresh coffee.

Good morning, clean floor.

Funny, Kenneth.

You don't have any smell at all.

Don't worry about it.

# Perfume and roses
and strong halitosis #

# Powders and flowers
and spicy clam chowders #

# I can smell, I can smell, I can smell #

# I can smell #

# I can... #

Daddy?

- Nice save.
- Oh, no.

Vengeance announcement.

Look what I found in the trash.

An email confirmation
in Frank's name for one ticket

to see Taylor Swift at Nassau Coliseum.

She writes the songs herself.

When she can't cry any more, she writes!

What are you laughing at, Toofer?

You're the man who took
professional boudoir photographs

and then tried to mail them
to Parade magazine columnist

Marilyn Vos Savant.

I happen to think that smart is sexy.

Our foreplay would be puzzle-solving.

Uh oh, Lutz's turn.

What is this gonna be?

Oh, no. I don't have anything for you.

You don't matter.

But if you two dirtbags

ever mess with me again,

I'll take this to the next level.

You don't do 22 episodes
of "Celebrity outhouse"

with Lorena Bobbitt without
learning a few things.

You're at rehearsal before me?

Of course I am, Liz-dad.

I'm your good boy.

I memorized all my lines, so can I go

get dressed for the photo shoot now,

so you don't have to wait for me?

Sure, little buddy.

You know, smell is the sense

most closely associated with memory.

I know, Dotcom, that's why
whenever I smell that jacket,

I remember being bored.

The only person you're insulting

with that attitude is yourself.

Obviously something about the way I smell

reminds Tracy of his dad.

Well, his father did
work for a soup factory

and you are constantly eating.

It's not a food thing, Grizz.

I think it's my hair pomade.

Midnight symphony?

My grandfather used that.

Midnight symphony.

You are the conductor of your
own proud African orchestra.

Midnight symphony.

- You use midnight symphony?
- It works, Dotcom.

It was discontinued a few years
ago, but I bought seven cases

of it on eBay from a guy named Reggie.

You're still here.

You didn't go to the store for milk

and heroin and then never come back.

That was his excuse?

You stayed because you love me.

Right, daddy-Liz?

I do love you... champ.

- But I could love you more.
- Well, you just wait.

Watch this.

Be careful, Liz.

Be very careful.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Dotcom.

Pete.

Confidence is a spectrum.

On one end, the ultra-confident end,

you have people like
Jack Donaghy, Vladimir Putin,

Orville Redenbacher.

Corn is not the only thing he popped,

if you know what I mean.

Then...

You have the other end of the spectrum.

Yeah, I get it.

Men with no confidence.

No, men who have nothing left to lose.

Great men like Richard Nixon,
the 1980 olympic hockey team,

my good friend John Rambo.

This is you.

And I shouldn't have
been trying to get you

all the way to the tiger,

because all you needed was a little push

to get you to nothing left to lose.

This is how you get your mojo back, Pete.

No, I am there, Jack.

My job is killing me,
my family resents me,

the other day I was mugged
by what I'm pretty sure

was two five-year-olds in a trench coat.

I already have nothing left to lose.

No, you have one more thing.

No. Not the ring.

You're clinging to something
that's gone, Pete,

and it's not coming back.

Allow yourself to be reborn.

Your life is tied
to the fate of the ring.

It must be destroyed.

Are you quoting Lord of the Rings?

No, I'm quoting myself
talking to Bruce Willis.

Well, well, well.

If it isn't tweedle-Dee
and tweedle-black.

We need to talk about what you did.

Well, you know what they say, boys.

If you can't stand the heat,

get off of Mickey Rourke's sex grill.

No, this isn't about us.
It's Lutz.

- I didn't do anything to Lutz.
- That's the problem.

He has a thing about
being left out of stuff.

The man has self-esteem issues.

I don't know why.

Well, he is estranged from his son

Kellan Lutz from Twilight.

I'm sorry, are you asking me
to apologize to him?

Look, yeah, we mess with people,

but there's a line we don't cross.

For example, after you went
through our trash,

we went through yours.

And we found this.

My self-evaluation!

I want to be famous to make
people love me

because I hate myself.

The Jenna I talk to
at night in the mirror

thinks I should kill myself.

Also, I caused that
Italian cruise ship to crash.

We could do a lot of damage with this.

But we're not going to.

Whatever.

Hey.

How's my boy?

Working hard?

So hard, papa Lemon.

You're not gonna wanna run away
and start a new family in Ohio

and have a daughter you also name Tracy.

Not if you're good.

I've been thinking of some
new characters for the show.

This is my Jimmy Fallen impression.

Awesome, awesome, I love it!
It's my favorite!

Wow, Tracy, that's great.

Tracy, what's all this stuff?

Just some stuff I needed
from home, like my bed.

It's a California Kong, which is two

California kings tied together
with gorilla leather.

- Wait, you're living here?
- I have to.

Turns out Angie's cooking
smells very ethnic,

and I definitely can't
be around my family.

I didn't expect this, but
teenage boys don't smell good.

Wait, you can't be around your kids?

What about baby Virginia?

Do you know what she does
in her underwear?

Something I once did at the Oscars

that caused Daryl Hannah
to throw up on me.

Tracy, you can't just
abandon your family.

I've got all the family I need
right here, L.L.

Now back to work.

Philadelphia, 1776.

John Adams and Mitt Romney enter."

Commentary!

So stupid, Lutz.

Disgusting.

Why don't you learn your lesson
and stop trying?

That girl at Starbucks smiles
at everybody, Lutz.

Everybody!

She doesn't want you to kiss her.

No wonder people don't include
you in things.

No wonder Kellan never wants
to see you again.

You're worthless.

Kenneth, be honest.

Am I the worst person you know?

Ms. Maroney, judging
is for God and his angels.

So, yes, you are.

Where's the writers' trash?

Oh, I've already taken it down

to the sub-basement compacter room.

The writers had me clean out
their refrigerator today,

so the trash smelled like, to
use a technical janitorial term,

total ass.

Kellan, why?

Okay, I know the answer to this,

but I just need to hear it.

If I have to choose
between work productivity

and what's best for one of my employees,

I choose work, right?

Great. Thank you.

Something about my shoes.

- Good meeting.
- Uh, which employee?

Gah, what does it matter?

It's Tracy and he has never been
more productive.

But he abandoned his family

and his baby daughter to do it.

Lemon, I invented business mumbling.

You white garbage bag full of pudding.

What?

Look, when you're a supervisor, your job

is to squeeze everything you can
out of your employees,

but there's a line and you've crossed it.

Since when do you care about any line

other than the bottom line?

Sorkinesque Repartee.

Because I'm doing it too.

I'm taking advantage of Pete

like you're taking advantage of Tracy.

I said I'd fill out my self-evaluation

after I'd fixed Pete.

A task I knew deep down

- could never be accomplished.
- Yeah, he's a mess.

But Pete's just an excuse.

The fact is I can't fill this out

because there's a question
I don't know how to answer.

"Where do you see
yourself in five years?"

For the first time in my career,
I don't know.

I could wind up anywhere.

Running this company, making couches,

serving as mayor of New York.

Or I could be 6 feet under...

In the subterranean paradise
we built to escape the poor.

Yeah, I get it.

As a writer, that uncertainty is the fate

that always I am to face being.

Well, I'm not used to it.

But that's not Pete's problem, it's mine.

You go talk to Tracy

and I have to stop Pete
from shaving his head.

Oh, God.

So, Lutz.

You thought I left you off
the hook the other day?

Well, you wish.

I spent the whole night
going through the garbage

trying to find the perfect thing
to humiliate you.

Yeah, we know.

We took photos of you

and sold them
to a garbage fetish website.

This was all a prank?

I knew the mirror thing would get her.

Ooh, I'm so sad.

I never talk to my son, Kellan.

It's all made up, Jenna.

Kellan Lutz isn't my son.

He's my grandnephew and we're very close.

Unbelievable.

I was actually doing something
nice for Lutz and...

Oh, my God.

I was doing something nice.

You took advantage of my niceness.

Why are you smiling?

You spent the night in our garbage.

We win!

No, I win.

On my self-evaluation, I said
I'm the worst person I know.

But it's not true!

Thanks to you guys, I'm the fourth worst.

# Jenna's amazing
like a star in the sky #

# Jenna's amazing like
a star in the sky #

Pete, I apologize.

I never should have
told you how to live your life

like some sort of American Barack Obama.

Commentary.

The truth of the matter is

this whole thing wasn't even about you.

It was about me.

Really? 'Cause it seems
like it was about me, Jack.

Do you know what was under my hair?

A birthmark.

Good God.

It looks like a swastika
made out of penises.

I know what it looks like!

Since you've been "helping" me,
my life has gotten worse.

I broke my nose, a gay rabbi
chased me through midtown,

and last night, Paula wouldn't
touch me looking like this.

Do you know what it's like
to try to have sex

wearing a child's
little orphan Annie wig?

- No.
- You know what?

You've done enough.

Get the hell out of my office.

Congratulations, I knew
I'd make a man out of you.

Get out!

There's the confidence.

Please, just leave.

Pete, you're welcome.

You wanted to see me, smell?

Sit down, champ.

Oh, why are you so heavy?

'Cause so much of me has died.

Okay.

Tracy, I'm so proud of you.

You have grown into
such a wonderful person

for these last 24 hours.

But when you're a father
or even a father smell,

sometimes you have to make sacrifices

to do what's right for your family.

I just wanna make you
proud of me, L. L.-Dad-Liz-dad.

I know.

But there's only one thing you
need to do to make me proud.

Pop dookie down by the vacants?

Boy, if I had a dollar
for every time I've been asked

to reverse one of my procedures,

my bitch ex-wife would be a millionaire.

May she rest in peace.

- All right.
- Wait, Dr. Spaceman.

There's so much I haven't smelled yet.

A magnolia tree in spring,

the towels at
a miss Hawaiian tropic contest,

the sweat of a terrified Webster

as you load him into a Cannon.

Tracy, you have to do this.

Now, full disclosure,

I lost your ring at a Bodeans concert,

so I'm gonna shove this

hilarious pencil-topper up there.

Get a haircut, or I'm gonna
shove you up a black guy's nose.

Very well.

You leave me no choice then.

Goodbye, helpful Tracy.

Goodbye... daddy-head.

Goodbye only evidence tying me

to my ex-wife's disappearance.

Aah!

Five years from now?

Well, I'd like
to still be working for NBC,

or whatever NBC is in five years.

A T-shirt company probably?

My greatest strength is that
I'm a good listener.

Watch.

In five years, I hope I don't have to do

this hat thing any more.

In five years, I'll probably be dead

and no one will even notice, and yes,

this is my second attempt
to writing my self evaluation.