Andy Richter Controls the Universe (2002–2003): Season 2, Episode 1 - We're All the Same, Only Different - full transcript

It was an exciting
Monday morning.

I was about to turn a
billion seconds old.

Here, you can track it with me.

Hey, guys, the company's...

Wait-wait-wait!

Andy is about to turn one
billion seconds old.

Here it comes.

And...

now!

Yay!

It's over.



So, the company's looking to
hire a new technical writer

and they're offering a
finder's fee of $3,000

to anybody who brings in the
candidate who gets the job.

$3,000... That's a
lot of halibut.

My... grandfather used
to call money "halibut."

I was trying it out.

It doesn't work.

Just so you know,

because this place is
so full of white guys,

they're probably going to hire...
I'm not sure

of the most politically
correct way to say this.

Another white guy?

We understand.

No. The opposite.



A person of color.

Damn.

I know an albino who
would have been perfect.

Well, I think this
is a good thing.

I think

it's important to help those

who historically have
been denied opportunity

based solely on their race.

If it falls to us to correct
the deeds of generations past,

well, that's a
responsibility I welcome.

I wish I said that.

Keith always says
the right thing.

I'm such a schmuck.

And I'm, like, 30
pounds overweight.

God, I hate myself.

I agree with Keith.

Me, too. Me, too.

I agree with him
more than anybody.

Not more than me.

Or me. Or me.

Me, too. Oh.

Way to go.

If only I could go back in time

and say all that cool
stuff Keith just said.

Well, I think this
is a good thing.

I think it's...

What were you going to say?

♪ You never know just
what's around the bend ♪

♪ Where to go and
where you've been ♪

♪ Just see the world
through my eyes ♪

♪ And I think you'd
be surprised. ♪

A few days later, we met
in Jessica's office

to help a non-white person

who traditionally we
wouldn't have cared about.

Keith said it better,
but you get the idea.

Let me show you my candidate.

His name is Ted Swathmore.

He's an African-American
technical writer

who just moved into my building.

Isn't he great?

Oh, wait.

There he is!

All of these resumes
are impressive.

You know, uh, Ted has
five years experience.

And he's been black
his whole life

which has not been easy
in such a racist society.

My candidate's a woman

from Saudi Arabia.

She watched as her mother
was stoned to death

for driving a car.

A bumper car.

You know, I know

that we're trying
to do a good thing,

but I think that it's terrible

putting people in racial
categories like this.

Let me guess...
Your guy is white.

No.

My blind guy is white.

I found a one-armed,

gay, Native American,
little person.

Are you kidding me?

Unfortunately, he wasn't
a technical writer.

Just wanted to meet
another one-armed, gay,

Native American little person.

If anyone knows anybody.

Well, all of these candidates
are very qualified,

but, Wendy, your woman
has more experience.

So, I'm going to recommend her.

All right!

Three grand!

Oh, and... I'm helping someone

who historically... How
does that go again?

Guys, I just want to say

that race is a very
uncomfortable subject,

but only by talking about
it like we've been doing

have we proven to ourselves...

just how uncomfortable
it really is.

Things continued about the same

until eventually we
were all replaced

by genetically
engineered superdogs.

The end.

Actually, something
happened the very next day.

Hey, boys.

Ted, what are you doing here?

I got the job, Andy.

On your recommendation.

Thanks a lot, pal.

Really? That's fantastic!

Well, what happened
to Wendy's woman?

Apparently, she flew back
to visit Saudi Arabia

and was stoned to death for
having luggage with wheels.

Okay, that country has way
too many rocks lying around.

As happy as I was about
Ted getting hired,

I wanted to make sure
that Wendy was okay.

I'm okay.

That was easy.

Well, I'm sorry.

So, what are you going to
do with the three grand?

I've always wanted to have
two TVs in my bedroom

so that I could lay on
my back and watch one

and then if I felt like
rolling over onto my side

then bam, there'd be
another one right there.

I think it's going to be a
lot cooler than it sounds.

I was going to use the money

to pay for my grandmother's
varicose vein surgery.

But she's, like,
really old, right?

It's just that
after Jessica said

she was going to
go with my person,

I called Grandma and told her
she could have the surgery.

She was so happy that she cried.

Ever since I was a little girl,

Nana's been wanting to de-vein
those grotesque legs of hers.

Can't call her now

and tell her she can't
have the surgery.

I don't know what
I'm going to do.

Well, good luck with that.

So, Wendy was okay.

I need $3,000.

Did you tell Andy why
you needed the money?

Yes.

And then did you keep staring
at him like I showed you?

Yes. For, like, ten minutes.

He's buying two TVs
for his bedroom.

I know; it's crazy.

But I bet in ten years,
we're all doing it.

All right, I wasn't
going to suggest this,

but if you're really desperate,

I may have a way for
you to make some cash.

Sounds suspicious.

It doesn't involve sex, does it?

Of course not.

You just have to take drugs.

Hey, Wendy.

Good morning, Keith.

Are you okay?

Oh, I'm fine.

I'm participating in a
drug study for Pickering's

pharmaceutical division.

They're paying me
three grand to use

this antihistamine
for six weeks,

which, apparently, turns
people into Demi Moore.

You're testing drugs?

Well, I got to
tell you, sweetie,

I don't think that's
such a good idea.

I mean, is it safe?

Are there any other
side effects?

My breasts are larger and I
have an increased libido.

Well, if you really
need the money.

Life was good.

The two TV thing was
everything I had hoped.

It worked so well

I was considering
getting a third TV

so I could lie on my other side.

But something about having
that many TVs just seemed sad.

The only problem was

once I knew I couldn't
lie on my other side,

I really wanted to.

But it wasn't just the
televisions that made me happy.

Ted was a great guy.

I never thought that
much about race before,

but here was this totally
qualified person

who in the past might not

have even been interviewed
for this job.

He deserved to be
here, and I was glad

to have played a small role
in making that happen.

Are you smiling at me again?

I'm just so proud.

Ah, you...

Yup, things were good...

until they immediately
turned to crap.

Hey, Andy.

Hi, Ted.

Hi, Lori.

Uh, Andy, I have an extra ticket

to see Riverdance this weekend.

You know, that really
exciting Irish dancing

where they're dead
from the waist up?

The only way I'd
go see Riverdance

is if they were actually
dancing into a river.

Andy, it's authentic
Irish culture.

Oh, please.

I grew up in Chicago.

I am so sick of the Irish.

The way they're
always in your face

with their green beer and
their cheesy proverbs

and their whiny music.

Oh, shamrock this and
shamrock that, and...

Oh, my God, the
public urination.

And you know, it's not just on St.
Patrick's Day.

Really? Well, you
know what, Andy?

I'm Irish.

You can't be Irish. You're...

not obnoxious
enough to be Irish.

Yeah, well, I am Irish.

I am as Irish as
the Blarney Stone.

And the unfulfilled promises

that Cormac MacDermot
MacCarthy made

to the High King of Munster.

And you know what? I'm
not going to tolerate

you making racist
comments about my people.

Ted is Irish?!

Didn't you know?

No, I didn't know.

How could I have known?

Okay, maybe there
were some clues.

Ted, what are you doing here?

I got the job, Andy.

Really? That's fantastic!

And check out these shoes.

They're from my
leprechaun friends.

No, I think I would
have remembered

if any of those things happened.

Ted, I have known Andy
for many, many years,

and I've heard him say some
stupid things many, many,

many times.

But I have never

ever even once heard him say
anything even remotely bigoted.

It wasn't about
African Americans.

It was about the Irish.

Oh.

Then what's the problem?

Let me say to both of you

that at Pickering Industries,

we take allegations of
racism very seriously.

Any bigoted remark,
and I mean any,

will simply not be tolerated.

It wasn't about
African Americans.

It was about the Irish.

Oh.

Then what's the problem?

Now, then

what seems to be the problem?

We all had to spend the weekend
in sensitivity training.

Jessica blamed me.

Is that coffee?

I didn't see coffee.

Do you see it now?

My eyes!

Look who's sensitive
all of a sudden.

Okay, Jessica was mad

but luckily they
weren't serving coffee

or lye or anything else

that could sear the eyes.

I can't believe I have to
take sensitivity training.

Couldn't they just give the
Irish thicker-skin training?

Great. I'm the only
black person here.

How do you think that looks?

Me, a black woman, being
labeled racially insensitive.

Give me a break.

Maybe we'll all learn
something this weekend.

I don't need to learn anything,

you white, big-mouth bastard.

Jews are cheap.

Blacks are lazy.

Asians can't drive.

Puerto Ricans steal.

Wow. It was a powerful
way to get our attention

pointing out all the horrible,
hurtful, stupid stereotypes.

This guy was good.

Good afternoon, everyone.

I'm Mr. Stevens,
your instructor.

Who are you?

Hey, Dwayne, Dwayne Farley.

My Guinea boss told me

I have to take this seminar.

It's going to be a long weekend.

Hey, Whitey.

I'm just kidding.

That's something you're
not supposed to say.

How was your weekend?

I'm great.

My sinuses have
never been clearer.

Oh, what's with your voice?

Drug testing.

It's not for the weak.

Oh, my God. You've got
to quit that program.

Hey! This goes to the mail room.

I'm not the mail room.

I can't quit now.

Nana needs a new pair of legs.

Besides... this is fun.

And bring me some coffee!

Andy, how was
sensitivity training?

It made me very
sensitive about race.

That's good.

No. It made me too sensitive.

I mean, it's all I
can think about now.

What are you anyway, French?

Andy, people are just people.

We should all be
working together

to create a totally
colorblind society...

a future where people
are brought together

by their similarities

not driven apart by
their differences.

I want to live in a world where

if somebody asks,
"Is Andy black?"

I say, "I don't even know
because I don't see color."

Would we not see any
color because, then

how would we drive
or pick ripe fruit?

I haven't worked out
all the details.

All I know is, I hate racists.

I hate everything about them...
Their music, their food,

their so-called religion.

The way their men are so skinny
and their wives are all so fat,

but mostly, I hate the
way they judge people

based on tired stereotypes.

I had to make things
right with Ted.

I'd been a jerk about
the Irish thing...

but would Ted forgive me?

What if he didn't?

Damn him and his
stubborn Irish ways!

Where's Andy?

I think he went to
go talk to Ted.

Something I can help you with?

Okay.

I'm having a little problem
with Wendy's voice.

I think it's kind of sexy.

No! You're wrong.

It's just an opinion.

I know, but it's wrong.

The other night we were...
you know...

Having sex.

Yeah.

And when she... you know...

Attained the joyful
and supreme pleasure

God intended everyone
but me to have.

Yeah. Only it sounded
like Frankenstein

tearing apart the castle.

There's my little man.

They're looking
for you upstairs.

Yeah? Okay.

I better go.

Hoo-ha! I'd like

a swing like that on my porch.

And so, I realize now
that we're all the same.

People are just people, and I'm
sorry for what I said last week.

Well, Andy...

as we Irish like to say:

Every finger has not
the same length

nor every son the
same disposition.

Right.

There's no point
in keeping a dog

if you're going to
do your own barking.

Are you messing with me?

Yeah, man, I'm messing
with you, man.

We're all right.

And so, life was good again...
Until it immediately

got even better.

Hey, Ted, are you
ready for lunch?

I sure am.

Hey, Andy.

My sister Jackie.

Jackie, Andy.

Hi, Andy.

Hi, Jackie.

I went to lunch with
Ted and Jackie,

which isn't this.

This is dinner the next night
with just me and Jackie.

We really connected.

Watch how we finish
each other's sentences.

So she didn't realize...?

No.

Even though you were...?

The last person she wanted
to groom her poodle.

I can't...

Believe it? It's true.

So... The...

Chihuahua... and...

the... schnauzer...

ate... the...

entire... head...

without... anyone...

even... calling...

the... Department of
Animal Regulation? Yeah.

Okay, I'm exaggerating,
but we did really connect

and any problem I had with the
Irish was a distant memory.

Sex was incredible.

I can't show it to you, but
here's what it sounded like:

"Mmm. Mmm. Mmm.

Oh, Andy, oh, Andy. Ow."

"Oh, sorry."

"That's okay.

Mmm. Mmm. Mmm."

And we had so much in common.

Andy?

Yeah.

What's your favorite
color, bird, state,

Olsen twin and green,
leafy vegetable?

Blue, swan, Hawaii,
Ashley, Swiss chard.

That's my favorite
color, bird, state,

Olsen twin and green,
leafy vegetable, too.

Oh, gosh, nobody ever
says Swiss chard.

We did.

Yeah, life was good... until...

Mmm. Andy?

Parmesan.

Actually, I was going to ask you

if you wanted to have children.

Someday.

Yeah, me, too.

I want a boy and a girl,

and I want to name
the boy Seamus.

What?

Seamus. It's a good Irish name.

But that's wrong.

We're supposed to be building
a colorblind society

where everybody's the same

and nobody's singled
out for their race.

Andy, I'm proud of
my Irish heritage.

But you can't be proud of it.

It shouldn't even exist.

Don't you want to
live in a world where

if somebody asked me, "Is
Jackie Irish?" I would say,

"I don't even know
what that word means"

and they would say,
"Well, neither do I"?

No, Andy, because we're
not all the same.

We are all different.

Look at me.

I am an Irish woman.

And nobody has to know that.

I'm sorry, but I
can't possibly be

with a man who won't
embrace and celebrate

what makes me different.

But... But...

I am so sick of this race thing.

No matter what I do, it's wrong.

Thanks a lot, God.

Okay, smart guy.

Jackie says she wants to
celebrate our differences.

That sounds good.

But you said that we're not

supposed to see our differences.

We really shouldn't.

How are we supposed to celebrate
them if we can't see them?

Well, I guess you're just
going to have to ignore

as well as celebrate
what makes Jackie

exactly the same and completely
different from everyone else.

That didn't make any sense

and yet, I knew it was
the right thing to do.

I understand that...

Your attention, please.

The receptionist does
not wash dishes.

Do your own dishes,
or I will smite you.

I did not bring you out of Egypt

to clean up your stuff.

I have to go, but
I'll be watching.

You, my friend,

are out of control.

No, I am totally

in control.

The voice gives me all
of this authority.

No, it doesn't.

It's turned you into
the gross office guy

that nobody wants to be around.

Did you sneak up
behind Tim Stalin

and say, "Take it all, bitch"?

I was talking about a doughnut.

He always takes half
and then comes back

a minute later for the rest.

Get it? "Take it all."

Man, he jumped, like, 15 feet.

That is funny.

You have to go to sensitivity
training this weekend.

What?

But guys do this stuff
to women all the time.

And a lot of them will be
in the class with you.

I swear, nobody can
take a joke anymore.

Am I right, fellas?

I took Byron's advice

and told Jackie that from now on

I would embrace and ignore
everything that made me and her

totally different and
exactly the same

and then, one night,
I threw myself

into an especially rigorous
celebration of Irish culture

and took Jackie
to see Riverdance

and there, something
wonderful happened.

I hated it, but not
because it was Irish.

No, I hated it because
it was awful,

and the most wonderful
thing: Jackie hated it, too.

And suddenly all our
differences melted away...

and, of course, stayed
with us forever.