Jerry does his stand-up act

Jerry: The practice of giving gifts for some one's birthday goes back millennia. The practice of trying to out-do your previous present goes back milllennia, minus one year. Do you find that you're always trying to do better than you did last year, when it comes to gift-giving? Last year you gave your friend tickets to a ball game, and because you don't want to look bad this year, you up the ante and try to give them even more expensive concert tickets? And then you look for a compliment; 'You know they're *fifth row* from the front!' Not like those crappy bleacher tickets in the stadium from last year! And then the worst is if you find out another friend of your friend is giving an even better gift than yourself. ''I'll see your trip to the Poconos, and raise you a trip to Orlando!' "Oh, yea? I'll see your Orlando, and raise you Paris!' "Fine; I'll see your Paris, raise you Athens, Greece, and add a cruise!'" "Too rich for my blood! Call!' Then you're all like, "Uuuhhh, I was bluffing. I can't afford a trip and cruise to the Mediterranean! I'm sorry! But I did get you some tickets to a Death Metal concert in the park!"



Elaine and Puddy enter the comic book store, where a short, nerdy guy works behind a counter, and a couple guys in their late teens are checking out the New Releases displayed along one wall. The store is a comic book lover's dream with new and old comic books, action figures, and toys displayed everywhere.

Elaine: What're we doing here,David? You won't find your monthly issue of 'Hot Car Salesman' here!

Puddy: I know, babe. I'm here to buy a present for a friend.

Elaine: A friend? One of the guys in the dealership reads comic books?

Puddy: Strike one, babe. Nah. It's for Jerry.

Elaine: Oooh, right right right. His Superman fixation.

Puddy: Home run, babe. Think he'll like it?

Elaine walks over to the new releases, pulls an issue of 'Superman' from the New Releases display, and hands it to him, but Puddy doesn't take it from her.

Elaine: Here, Big Spender. Maybe you should buy two issues and up the ante to five bucks!

Puddy: You wound me, babe! He's probably already got that one-- life-long subscribers like him will always guarantee receiving every issue with a subscription. I'm gonna get him one of the older issues.

Elaine: Won't he just have one of those, too, if he's always been a subscriber?

Puddy (turning around and looking at the old issues hanging up on the walls): Not if he didn't buy it when he was a kid. Gonna case the joint and find one from a buncha years ago.

Elaine turns away from Puddy as he checks out the old comics on the wall, and strolls over to the new releases again where the teenagers are. They notice her, and are distracted enough to stop reading. One teenager mumbles to the other, and the second one begins to trembles and hyperventilate. The panicking teenager shoves the comic back into the stands and hurries for the door, followed by his friend.

Hyperventilating Teenager (gasping): A girl! A our store! C-coooll!

Second Teenager: And it's her!

Elaine watches them leave, shakes her head with confusion, and checks out a comic book. She picks it up and flips through it.

Elaine: Pllft! Yeah, like a guy with claws like that could get a girlfriend like that! Nice mutton chops, claw-man!

Elaine returns the comic to the stands, and is about to turn away, when she sees something that attracts attention. She yanks a comic book off the display, and flips through it, looking at it page after page with an open mouth, until she finally gasps in shock.

Elaine: David! David, look at this! (Her urgency is momentarily interrupted as she watches Puddy lay one twenty dollar bill after another on the counter, and only a single comic book protected in a plastic sleeve beside it) What's going on?

Puddy: Buying a comic book...remember?

Elaine: I remember, but I seem to remember that comics only cost a couple bucks these days!

Puddy: Not a collector's item from 1960, babe. I just bought Jerry's birthday present.

Elaine approaches, suddenly angry, so the short and nerdy-looking storekeeper scoops up the wade of 20's and shoves it into his cash register, slamming it shut in one fluid motion, so she can't take back the money. He looks at her in a quiet, wide-eyed panic, like the two teenagers did before, his thick glasses making his eyes look huge. However, a price sticker on the cover tells her how much Puddy just paid for the comic book.

Elaine: TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS?! Get-OUT!!! (Elaine gives Puddy her trademark Elaine-double-handed push) For a stupid comic book that once cost twenty-five cents?! Are you outta your mind, David?! You can't pay that much for a stupid comic book!

Puddy: Just did. 1960, 'Superman Annual Number 2'; it's got Brainiac and Bizarro and look! Titano, a giant gorilla with laser beam eyes!

Elaine: David, you just spent two hundred dollars on a a Superman comic book!

Puddy: Yea, that's right.

Elaine: Jerry's not even your best friend! Why don't you just buy the first-ever issue for two thousand dollars while you're at it?!

Store-keeper: I can get you one for eighteen-hundred if you're interested?

Elaine: Shut up!

Puddy: Hey, babe, I only like Jerry-- I'm not in love with him! Two thousand bucks for a Superman comic is ludicrous!

Elaine: Yes, it is ludicrous!

Puddy: Everyone knows a first issue would cost like ten thousand in mint condition!

Store-keeper: I can get you that, too! I know a guy who knows a guy who knows an off-shore--

Elaine: Well, you're not buying it!

Store-keeper: No returns on old issues! Thankyouhaveaniceday!

Elaine: David--!

Puddy: Chill out, babe. Wait'll you see what I buy you for your birthday!

Elaine (considers it): Really? It'll be more than two hundred?

Puddy: As sure as Brainiac is a green robot guy in pink tights.

Elaine: Okay, okay. Have it your way. But, look at this! See anything interesting?

Puddy (looks at the Wonder Woman comic she hands him): Nice hooters.

Elaine: No, no, no! The face, David! Look up a couple inches from those gigantic guzzungas!

Puddy: Having a hard time, Elaine. They're mesmerizing!

Elaine (yanking the comic book from him and using her hand to cover the superheroine's body): What about now?

Puddy (squinting): I never realized how many veins there are on your hands, babe! How old are you, anyway? What're you doing, soaking them in vinegar? (She grits her teeth and slaps the comic with her other hand) All right, all right. So?

Elaine: It's me, ya doofus! Look at Wonder Woman's face! She looks exactly like me!

Puddy: The boobs are all wrong...

Elaine: Forget about her chest! Look at her eyes, her lips, her nose and chin and cheekbones! Somebody's drawn my face on her face! How long has this been going on?!

Puddy: You have a problem looking like a hot Amazonian chick used by young teenage boys as their first sexual fantasy-lady in their early formative years into adulthood? Not that I have any experience in such things...

Elaine: Of course, I doooo! Who drew this, who? (She flips to the front, but the artist name is mysteriously missing from the credits) Never mind, I'll just buy it and figure it out later.

Elaine pulls out her wallet and tosses the store-keeper a five.

Store-Keeper: For an extra five dollars I can offer you a protective mylar cover and cardboard back?

Elaine: No, thanks.

Store-Keeper: I've got an issue on the wall from 1965 for thirty-five--

Elaine: No, no, no! Just the comic book with my image on it, okay?

Store-Keeper (glances at the comic book, then at Elaine as he places it in a paper bag): She's a little taller than you...and her bum looks--

Elaine: Gimme gimme! You should be ashamed of objectifying women like this! What kind of society do we live in that portrays women with such impossible measurements?! You're messing with teenage boys heads with women looking like this!

Puddy: Didn't mess me up.

Elaine drags Puddy out of the store, leaving the Store-keeper alone. He reaches below his counter, inserts a DVD into his player, and seconds later the theme of the 1970's 'Woman Woman' TV series is blaring in the store.


George and his new girlfriend Ginger are sprawled out on her couch bed kissing passionately.

Ginger: So, George...what was that you mentioned about a counter-clockwise swirl?

George: Well, if you play your cards right, I might just show you sometime!

Ginger: Show me now!

George: Huh?

Ginger (removing her blouse): Show me now! I'm ready!

George: B-but we just met! This is only our second date!

Ginger: When it's right, it's right, don 't you think so, George?

George considers this for about 2 seconds, then starts to rip off his shirt, as Ginger removes her blouse. They embrace and kiss passionately, but seconds later George's eyes open up and his hands begin to explore her bare back above and below her bra. He touches something that makes his face twist with revulsion.


George (voice-over): There was...scabbage, Jerry. Definite signs of scabbage!


George and Jerry are having breakfast at their usual table.

Jerry: 'Scabbage'?

George: You know. Pimples that have been picked and form a tiny, dry scab? Scabbage.

Jerry: Ooooh, 'scabbage'. I thought you said 'cribbage'! I thought you broke out into an impromptu game of cards on her back!

George: Believe me, that would be preferable to what's actually breaking out on her back!

Jerry: Are you sure? Maybe you touched her girdle or a towel or--

George, No, no girdle! She was down to her bra and skirt, and when I held her in my arms I could feel a horrible, disgusting, massive bumpy surface all across her back! We were getting along so well, she was into me, dinner was perfect, we were having a great time, so she asked me to come upstairs to her place. And then she ruins it by asking for sex!

Jerry (sarcastically); Yeah, I hate it when that happens.

George: But, this isn't something I signed up for! She's so pretty, and funny, and...

Jerry: Loose?

George: No! I was gonna say 'rich'. I thought we were going to make beautiful music together, but instead I find a 3-D map of the Moon on her back! She's like a Moon-Girl, or something! And she's been...picking.

Jerry: Aw, c'mon, willya? I'm eating here!

George (glancing over his shoulder): How can you eat when that idiot won't turn down his radio?!

Jerry: It's not a radio. Monk's is playing music now. No more dead silence listening to other people talk and chew.

George (looking around): This is permanent?! How am I supposed to concentrate with music blaring in my ears like this?

Jerry: The same way I have to concentrate with your voice blaring in my ears?

George: Ho ho ho, very funny. Anyways, about GInger--

Jerry: Never thought you were a 'Ginger man'. I always pegged you for Mary Ann guy!

George (smirks, and shakes his head): Yep. Gonna get good advice today from you today, I see.

Jerry: Okay, okay. So she has a bumpy back--

George: I'm not talking about 8 or 9 or even a dozen pimples, Jer. I saw the whole thing-- she wanted her back massaged at one point. I felt like I was Neil Armstrong coming in for a landing at the Sea of Tranquility, only with an uncontrollable urge to throw up! She had it all-- little new ones under the surface, festering red ones, broken scabby--

Jerry; Okay okay, I see it, already.

George: Dozens and dozens and dozens! Godzilla has a smoother back! And therein lies my problem.

Jerry: How you're going to tell her it's over between you two?

George: It's not over! I can't let this stop me!

Jerry: Oh, because she's rich? You're going to stick with the Moon Girl because she's got a big house and a nice car?

George: Well, Jerry, what're the chances of finding a woman that's hot and heavy for me after just two dates?

Jerry: About the same as striking gold on the Moon! But you can't stand to touch her!

George: And that, my friend, is the Ginger Conundrum!

Kramer strolls in from the front door, and waves to his friends, then fidgets and shakes his head like he's just been splashed with cold water. He does a 360, looking about as he approaches them, then points to the ceiling and a speaker playing the Beatles' ''s Lonely Hearts Club Band'.


Jerry: Music. Now we can listen to music while George talks about taking the space shuttle to the Moon to see his girlfriend!

George gives him a sneer.

Kramer: Jerry, everybody knows the space shuttle doesn't have the engine thrust capability to escape the gravitational pull of the Earth to fly to the Moon!

Jerry: Oh.

Kramer: Naw, for that you need one of those alien saucer jobs at Area 51. Can you guys still hear me?

Jerry: It's not that loud. You get used to it.

Kramer: Oh, and I suppose you could get used to a screeching sound in your ear?

Jerry: Sure! I dated Elaine, remember?

Kramer: What?

Jerry: I said--

Kramer: No. I can't do this! I can't impart vital details of conversation to you guys with the ever-present cacophony of that rrrracket interrupting my thought processes, and forcing me to repeat myself in case you didn't hear me!

George: Pardon?

Jerry (cupping his ear like an old man) : Eehhh?

Kramer shakes his head, and practically dashes out of Monk's. Jerry and George look at one another, smiling. and clinking their coffee cups together in a toast.

Jerry: This stuff might be more powerful than Raid!

George (bobbing his head to the beat of a Beatles' song that's playing): Good song.

Jerry: I'm still waiting for some 'Judas Priest!



Elaine is showing her co-worker, Linda, the 'Wonder Woman' comic book she bought.

Elaine: So you see what I'm talking about?

Linda: What? Is this some kind of a joke?

Elaine: What?

Linda: Did my parents call you to set this up?

Elaine: What're you talking about?

Linda: Come on, Elaine! A Wonder Woman comic book, and I'm Linda, as in 'Linda Carter'? It's not even April Fool's Day!

Elaine: What about it?

Linda: My obsessed parents named me 'Linda' after Linda Carter who played Wonder Woman! And now you bring in this comic book to taunt me? I thought we were friends! Since when have you been a practical joker?

Elaine: No no, Linda, that's not it! I'm just trying to show everyone how much I look like Wonder Woman!

Linda: Oh, come on! She's what? Six feet tall and double D's? And you're about five-five and--

Elaine: All right all right, I don't look like her, but *she* looks like *me!*

Linda: Same diff. Do you know how much grief I've taken all my life over this half-naked chick? My parents used to do it after the 'Wonder Woman' TV show ended! My Dad said it helped him to concentrate! Mom thinks I was conceived after the second season premiere. I wonder if she was wearing a costume?

Elaine: Don't you see the similarity in the facial features, at least? And the curly hair?! I've got curly hair!

Linda: Half the East Side has curly hair. So you weren't pranking me?

, Elaine's boss, arrives at her door, and knocks, a big smile on his face.

: Ladies? Not interrupting am I?

Linda: No, sir. Elaine was just comparing her boobs to a my family shame.

Linda leaves, leaving a confused with Elaine.

Elaine: What's up, ?

: Elaine, I have a new assignment for you. A shipment of Portuguese distorcido socks have come in from a distributor and I need a suitable background story to encourage people other than the proud Portuguese population to purchase them. I'll e-mail you a gallery of images of them so you'll know what they look like. Have it on my desk by Monday, if you please.

Elaine: Sure thing, sir. Oh! While you're here, I'd like to show you something.

(reluctant): It's not your big toe again, is it, Elaine? I already told you that your shoes are twisting your toes into a shape not unlike an asparagus tip!

Elaine: No, sir, it's not that. Can I get your opinion of who you think this drawing looks like?

Elaine offers him the 'Wonder Woman' comic book, and Peterman examines it, turning it slightly to the left and right, and begins to flip through it.

: My, my. This lackadaisical artist must be absolutely bonkers-- this Amazonian princess doesn't look a thing like Linda Carter!

Elaine: I know! She looks like me!

: With all due respect, Elaine, Linda Carter must be nearing age 50 by now, and you're ten years younger, yourself.

Elaine: I'm not 40! I've got a few more years left! But, can't you see the resemblance between this drawing or her and me? The artist put my face onto Wonder Woman's body!

: Immortalized within the confines of comic book art featuring one of the longest-running examples of female power in American literature? And the problem is...?

Elaine: Well...uh...when you put it that way...

: this some sort of deep-seated jealousy you're carrying about for the theatrical accomplishments of one Ms. Linda Carter? Because if it is--

Elaine (exasperated): I just thought she looked like me. It's no big deal. I like Linda Carter, I really do!

: Oooh, Elaine. The dark path of the feminine cat-fight can be a long and tortuous one with no end in sight! Oh, there's a titillating excitement about it from the male perspective, but from your perch it's laden with scratches and unbecoming tears in your stockings!

Elaine (slumping into her chair behind her desk): Oy.

: In fact, I think a little professional help in overcoming your obsession would be in order! No need to thank me! The Portuguese distorcido socks campaign shall include a Wonder Woman reference! Yes, I can see it now! Be a Portuguese Wonder Woman with distorcido socks! How did the television show intro go? (singing it softly, and snapping his fingers to maintain the beat)) 'Wonder Woman, Wonder Woman, All the world's waiting for you, and the power you possess...'

Elaine (mumbling): Kill me now

: '...In your satin tights, Fighting for your rights, And the old Red, White and Blue...' Perhaps substitute 'red, white and blue' for the colors of the Portuguese flag. Hopefully it'll still rhyme. And replace 'satin tights' with 'distorcido socks', taking care to keep the jingle intact. You might also want to visit .com, a.k.a. the renowned Internet Movie Data Base, to familiarize yourself with the lovely and gracious Linda Carter, and all of her myriad accomplishments! Let's nip this cat-fight in the butt before it poisons your mind any further! Get to work, Elaine! By Monday morning, remember?

Peterman leaves, and Elaine plops down into her chair behind her desk, frustrated.

Elaine (mumbling): Up, up and away.



Jerry is still at the table, but George has left. Jerry's table also has two empty coffee cups and two empty bowls off to one side, as he hums along, and moves to the beat of George Thoroughgood's 'Bad To The Bone'.

Jerry: She could tell right away, that I was bad to the bone! Bad to the bone! Bad to the bone! B-B-B-B-Bad to the bone...

A Waitress approaches with her order pad.

Waitress: How was breakfast today?

Jerry: B-b-b-b-BAD!

Waitress (indignant): Ex-cuse me?!

Jerry: Oops! Sorry! Just singing to myself.

Waitress: Oh. Okay.

She begins to tear off Jerry's check, but he stops her.

Jerry: Actually, I'm gonna stay a while longer!

Waitress (looking at the empty dishes on the table and checks her watch): Must be nice not to have a job to go to! You've been here almost an hour and half!

Jerry: I know. I'll be gone soon.

Waitress: Only if you buy something else.

Jerry: Okay. I'll have...The Big Breakfast!

Waitress (checking her watch again): Breakfast hours are almost over, and it'll take at least 15 minutes to make it?

Jerry (smugly): Yes...I know. (The Waitress leaves and Jerry begins to play air guitar) 'I'm here to tell ya, Honey, that I'm bad to the bone!'


Newman is buying a hot dog from a street vendor, as Kramer approaches from the other side of the street

Newman: $3.99 for a hot dog and Coke?! I'm a United States Postal Employee! I'm entitled to a discount!

Vendor: Not from my cart, you're not, Chico!

Newman (producing his I.D. card): Look! Here! See? I am who I say I am! I'm an official government employee!

Vendor: Congratulations, El Presidente, but you're not getting a deeescount!

Kramer: Newman! I need your help!

Newman: Kramer! Kramer! Kramer! Tell El Stupido here I work for the Postal Service! I'm an agent, right?

Vendor: Hey! I'm no Stupido, El Gigante!

Kramer: Never mind that! We've got big problems! BIG!

Newman: What? It's not about that body in apartment 5D is it? Because the last time I saw Mr. Crankley was--

Kramer: No, no, it's... (pauses, thinks about that, shivers, and continues) No, it's about Monk's!

Newman: What about Monk's? I haven't eaten there in months!

Kramer: They've got music blaring inside! I can't hear myself think! I couldn't even sit down! You gotta help me convince them to shut it off!

Newman: What do I care? In case you haven't noticed, I only order food or get it from vendors on the street like (glances at the annoyed hot dog vendor, and doesn't quite lower his voice enough) El tirĂ³n ilegal here.

Vendor: Hey! I speaka da Spanish, muchacho gordo!

Newman: I'm barred from Mendy's, thanks to the Fettuccine Incident, the Soup Nazi is long gone, Kenny's chicken is history, and the fat-free yogurt place was run out of business because it was actually triple fat! I'm left with these kinds of street vendors, thanks to Jerry spending 24-7 at Monk's, so why should I care about it's new music policy?

The Vendor suddenly snaps on his radio, blaring it full blast, which makes Kramer twitch, and pull Newman away. Newman gives up and walks down the street with Kramer.

Kramer: Fine, I'll buy you lunch at Reggie's! It's dead-quiet in there.

Newman: Luke-warm coffee and charred fish cakes? I'll pass! So they're playing music; lots of places play music in the background. It never bothered you before?

Kramer: This is different! Monk's is a sacred sanctuary! A place of wise and insightful discussion that cannot be defiled by the likes of Barry Manilow or Kenny G in the background! You gotta help me stop this!

Newman: Sorry, Kramer, you're on your own! They could play Norwegian show tunes all day for all I care!

Newman crosses the street, heading for a different hot dog vendor.

Kramer (frustrated and shaking his fist) : Yeaaaah! Real nice, Newman! Thanks, buddy! Thanks for the assist! I won't forget this, Newman!

Kramer looks around, unsure where to go, so he continues down the street the way he and Newman had been walking.



George is sitting on the couch, while his father, Frank, is sitting in a matching chair next to it. Frank has a couple boxes beside his chair, and many mylar-covered issues of TV Guide set out on the coffee table. He picks up one and shows it to George.

Frank: Ya see this, George? This was a show called 'Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In'! It was a big hit back in '68!

George: Yeah, I know. I've heard of it.

Frank: It was a show that was chaotic and schizophrenic and ridiculous, and yet the American people sucked it up like a junkie begging for his next hit!

George: I know. I remember it.

Frank: It got high ratings...probably because everyone was high that was watching it! But not me! Not Frank Costanza! (shouts at the cover of his TV Guide) Ya wouldn't catch me watching a single episode of these bastaaaards!

George: Jeez, what's the deal? It was a funny show, that's all.

Frank: Ya think so, huh, kid? Well let me impart some parental wisdom with sugar-coated TV history on it...


Frank: Back then, TV networks were flipping and flooping TV shows all over the place, making dirty backroom deals to kill off some shows and ram others down the American people's throat like somekindaaaaa disturbed dentist! Anyway, 'Laugh-In' did so well in it's first year, that they moved it to a better time, plopping my favorite television program, 'Star Trek' to the empty wasteland of 10pm on Friday nights! It's third season was supposed to be nice and early, on Mondays at 8pm! Instead, Rowan and Martin, who I have always called Hitler and Chairman Mao, ruined 'Star Trek's future, forcing it's cancellation! I've never forgiven them for that! (yells at the TV Guide again) Neverrrr!

George: I think it was NBC's decision in the end, Dad, not Dan Rowan and Dick Martin!.

Frank: HA! NBC, indeed! Or as I refer to it, 'The Great Satan'. And don't get me started on how they ruined 'Punky Brewster'!

George: Trust me, I won't. Anyways, Dad, I really came here for some information. What was the name of that doctor you went to for--

Frank (leaping up, panicking): Oh, God! Oh, my God, is it Lupus?! Did you catch Lupus from those squirrels you were feeding in the park?!

Gorge: What squirrels? I haven't fed them since that field trip when I was in 7th Grade!

Frank: These things have a way of percolating inside of you for years before they attack you from the inside out! Now, tell me, George, let me have it. I can take it. Your Old Man's here for you.

George: I don't have the problem, it's somebody else.

Frank: The old It's-not-for-me-it's-for-a-friend gambit? Is that what you're playing at, George?

George: No, it really is for someone else that I know!

Frank (sitting down and arranging his TV Guides): Oh, then to hell with them. Who cares, then?

George: I do! Pop, I met a girl and she's--

Frank: She doesn't look like Goldie Hawn, does she?

George: No.

Frank: Good! Goldie made it big after 'Laugh-In', and I never lived it down. Ever see all those tattoos? Makes Angelina Jolie look like an amateur with a Crayola crayon!

George: I think those were temporary tattoos, Dad. Anyways, my friend has a severe acne problem, and I was wondering if your doctor could treat her or at least recommend someone?

Frank; Ya got a problem with a natural blemish that'll just go away on its own? How can you be so vain?! Why're you so superficial? You didn't get that from me-- just look at your mother! You know who else was vain? (picks up a different issue of TV Guide) Sally Struthers! Acted all high and mighty, but did she ever win an Emmy? Huh?! I...don'!

George: It's not a little pimple! It's a whole back-full of them! All over her shoulder blades, her spine, down to her--

Frank: You're dating a a Gravel Girl, is that it?

George: Well, more like a Moon Girl...

Frank: 'Moon Girl'? That's idiotic, unless she's got lots of craters or a tattoo shaped like a crescent moon? Hey, who does she like better? Captain Kirk or Captain Picard? This could be important.

George: Just tell me if there's a doctor I could send her to to fix this? I really like her, Pop.

Frank: Okay, all right. I think I might know somebody. I'll have to check my old phone number book to find it. In the meantime, just sit there quietly. I need to collect my thoughts as I rearrange my TV Guides in order of aggravating, bothersome, annoying, and vexatious, depending on who's on the cover for that week! Starting with all of the issues featuring the cast of 'Mork And Mindy'! That lunatic Robin Williams would have fit right in with those kooks on 'Laugh-In'!



Jerry is still at his usual table and he's alone, although the table has various dishes and cups, indicating that food has been eaten. The same Waitress walks up to him, as he sits there, slapping the table with the palms of his hands and bobbing his head to the beat of the song being played, 'Dance To The Music', by Sly and the Family Stone.

Waitress: Okay, here you go. Come again.

Jerry: Oh, that's okay. I'm not leaving yet.

Waitress: I know. Just pay Ruthie on the way out.

Jerry: No, I mean I'm not leaving yet. I'll stay for a while and order something else.

Waitress (sighing and pulling out her pencil and order pad): What'll it be?

Jerry: I dunno. I'm full.

Waitress: You want to stay but you're not hun--?

Jerry: Oo-oo-ooo! Ssh-shh! Here comes the good part! (pauses and enjoys a particular riff of the song)

Waitress: Excuse me, but you can't stay here all day! This table has to be freed up for other customers!

Jerry (looks around and notices several empty tables): They can sit somewhere else. There are other places to sit. It's just that you guys have been playing non-stop favorites of mine! Not a single bad song all day! It's uncanny!

Waitress: But it's 2:30 in the afternoon! You've been here six hours, and prevented anyone from the lunch-time crowd to sit here!

Jerry: The customer is always right! And it's my right to sit here and order food.

Waitress: But you're not hungry!

Jerry: I will be, I will be! Give it time! That was a big salad!

The Waitress realizes she's not getting anywhere with Jerry, so she goes to the counter and speaks to the Owner, while Jerry waits for the next song, realizes it's one of his favorites, and starts to tap the table to it's beat, unaware that the owner and other customers are watching him. The Owner approaches him, and leans over him menacingly, prompting Jerry to shrink back and stop his tapping.

Owner: Okay, Seinfeld, you've had your fill of coffee, bacon and eggs, sandwiches, salad, pie, and muzak. Time to hit the road.

Jerry: But you're playing such good music! Can't I stay a while longer?

Owner (considers this, listening to the song playing): All right, but only until the fat lady stops singing. Get it?

Jerry: Got it.

Owner: Good.

The Owner leaves, and Jerry softly taps the table, disappointed, and looks about, reeling back slightly as he sees how many people are staring at him.

Jerry (softly, and to himself): Okay. I can do this. I can leave now. I've had my fill. What're the chances of another favorite song coming on after this one?

The song ends, and Jerry hesitates. He sees the owner staring at him with intimidating crossed arms, so Jerry pulls out his wallet, as if to say, 'See? I'm paying and leaving.' However, he freezes, wide-eyed and nearly perspiring as he looks up to the ceiling and hears a song that he loves.

Jerry (softly and to himself): No. Nooo! This can't be happening! Not that one! Not my all-time favorite song from The Whooo?!

The Owner takes two steps forward, prompting Jerry to bolt out of his booth and over to Ruthie to pay his bill. He slowly shuffles towards the door, checking his wallet, and shirt, his hair, anything to slow down his progress. With gritting teeth, he slowly reaches for the door handle with an extreme force of will.

At that moment, Kenny Bania arrives.

Bania: Hey, Jer.

Jerry: BAAANIAAAAA!!! My good friend, buddy, palll! (Jerry grabs Kenny and hugs him like a long-lost best friend) Long time no see! Howya been, Bania?

Bania (confused and trying to struggle out of the hug): Fine, fine. Seeya.

Jerry (acts all buddy-buddy with Bania): No-no-no-no! What's the rush?! Stay a while! Let's sit and talk and listen to the cool new music here! Mostly listen to the music but eat something together like old times!

Bania: I was only coming in here for a glass of milk and maybe a brownie...

Jerry: Milk and a brownie, listen to this guy! Brownie-shmrownie! You gotta keep up your strength, eat enough to nourish your brain and come up all those new Ovaltine jokes you're so famous for a while! I'll even pay!

Bania: Okay. I guess I'm hungry enough.

Jerry (pulls Bania over to a different booth on the other side of the restaurant): Let's make it a meal! You won't even have to trade it for an Armani suit this time! Hahaha! Are you hungry enough for a meal, buddy?

Bania: I dunno. I had a cheese and jam sandwich around 12...

Jerry: That's very cool! Tell me all about it! (Bania opens his mouth to speak, until Jerry throws up a hand to stop him) Just wait for this song to end first.

Bania stares at Jerry, who looks away and starts moving to the beat of the muzak.

Unseen by both, Kramer is staring inside the cafe, his face and hands plastered against the windows, tears running down his cheeks, unable to find the strength inside himself to enter the restaurant, or stop his friend from associating with a fellow comic that he can't stand.


An early evening view, with the sun just beginning to set, if the muted lighting outside is an indication.


The restaurant is busy and full, as George brings his girlfriend, Ginger, with him to the reservations booth. He's looking confident and rather pleased with himself.

Hostess: Hello! Welcome to Poppy's! How may I help you?

George: Costanza. Party of two.

Hostess: Cos...tanza. Cos...Cos...Oh, here you are. Right this way, please.

Ginger: What a nice place, George! I've heard so much about Poppy's! I've always wanted to come here!

George: I've heard some stuff about this place, too! Just be sure to ask for the Sous Chef to make your dinner for you!

Ginger: Why?

George: Ahh, well, I've heard that Poppy, himself, tends to be a stickler for how he, uh, handles his food, and at that rate we might get our salad by 9:30! He's a perfectionist! A raving perfectionist! He'll just keep making our main course over and over... by hand, until he gets it right, so I'd stick with the Sous Chef. Or anyone else.

Ginger: Oh. Okay. (notices George looking about, instead of looking at his menu) Something wrong? Do you want to sit somewhere else?

George: No, no. I've got a good view of the entrance.

Ginger: The entrance? Or do you mean....the exit?

George: Oh, no! That's not what I meant! I was just stating, by way of perspective and land marks that I could see the entrance from here. Let's eat!

George and Ginger examine their menus, with George raising his every few seconds so he can look about the restaurant without his date noticing. Suddenly, he sees an older man and his wife enter the restaurant, and scrambles to sit up.

George: OH MY GAAAWWWD! Look who it is! I know that guy! Sit right here-- I'll bring them over to join us!

Ginger: George, what're you--? We're on a date!

George dashes over to the man and his wife, intercepting them before they can take a few steps towards their reserved table, nearly shoulder-blocking the Hostess against another couple's table.

George (grabbing the man's hand and shaking it furiously, and not letting go): Doctor Nelson! So nice to see you, sir! An honor and a pleasure, sir!

Doctor Nelson: Do I know you, young man?

George: I'm George Costanza, son of Franklin Costanza! My father speaks very highly of you, sir! Extremely, very highly, sir!

Doctor Nelson: Err, very well. Thank you. I'll take my hand back now-- I'll be needing it to eat here tonight!

George (blushing and finally letting go): Of course, of course! How can you break bread, as it were, with only one hand! Not much you can do with just one hand all night, huh?

Doctor Nelson: Uh, yes, well, good evening, Mr. Costanda.

George (laughing and linking an arm with the Doctor, and taking a few steps away from his intended booth and towards George and Ginger's booth) Aahh, yes, well, why dine alone? Here; come and eat with my extremely rich and lovely girlfriend! Just the three of us!

Mrs. Nelson (indignant): What about me?

George (dragging Doctor Nelson to his table): We'll be need some bread sticks or something, honey, sure.

Doctor Nelson (jerking free): That is my wife, sir!

George: Oh, sorry! C'mon then, sit with us and take a load off! N-not that you have a load to take off, but you know what I mean!

Doctor Nelson: My wife and I were expecting to eat at our usual table! As for dining with you and your date--

George: It's on us! What do you say? Free dinner for you and the missus, Doctor!

Doctor Nelson hesitates and considers this. Mrs. Nelson steps forward, frowning.

Mrs. Nelson: Let's do this, Henry.

George: Attaboy, Doctor! C'mon! Let me introduce you to a sweet girl!


It's dark out, indicating a much later time.


George, Ginger, and the Nelsons have finished dinner, and are down to coffee and half-finished dessert. George looks frustrated and bored, although Ginger is speaking animatedly and softly with . Doctor Nelson is drunk, speaking loudly, and looks up at his wine glass.

Doctor Nelson: Heyyy, Gggeorrrge, I kin shee myshelf in my glassh. I need to go on a diet, ya think? My head'sh all gooey-shaped and shtuff! L-li-li-like a teardrop!

George: Kinda packing in the Merlot, don'tcha think, Doctor Nelson?

Doctor Nelson (About to reply, when he suddenly realizes something and leans into George's face): Hey. You're bald!

George (waving at the alcohol-breath in his face): Thanks for noticing.

Doctor Nelson: And kinda cute. Gimme a hug!

Doctor Nelson grabs George and holds him in a headlock, and kisses him on his head before George struggles free and straightens his messy hair.

George: So, Doctor, can we talk about your practice now? You've been putting it off all night, or so it seems!

Doctor Nelson (puts a finger to his lips): Sssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! It'sha shecret! Like Kryptonittilitte!

George: It's just that I know of someone with a serious problem that only you can help her with--

Doctor Nelson (pours the last spoonful of wine out of his bottle and into his glass): Oh-oh-oh, that'sh nish of you to say, Georgie,! (takes his finger, traces the rim of the bottle opening with it, and licks up whatever trace of wine he felt) Mmm. Yummy wine! But yer probabably in the minorityyyy! Heeheeheeheeehee!

George: What...what's that supposed to mean?

Doctor Nelson (leaning into George again, and nearly falling into his lap): Sssshhhhhhh!

George: Mrs. Nelson? Ma'am? What's Doctor Nelson talking about?

Mrs. Nelson: Well, I would appreciate it if you kept this confidential, but Henry's licence has been, sort of...suspended.


Other guests at other tables look at him momentarily.

Doctor Nelson: Heyyy, I said 'sssshhhh'! Dooya wan' me ta spell that fer ya, ya crazy idgit?! That's S-S-S-H-H-H-H---

George: Suspended? For what, may I ask?

Doctor Nelson: Tell him, Muriel. Tell my best bud, Gorgeous Georgies.

Mrs. Nelson: Well, without getting to far into detail, suffice it to say that my Henry is not only an life-long, incorrigible alcoholic, but he also uses the occasional pharmaceutical off duty. He was pilfering office supplies of the medicinal type when they caught him!

George: Oh, God! How're you supposed to help Ginger, now?

Ginger (surprised and staring at George): I was unaware that I needed medical help!

George: Well, you know... Your...your back.

Ginger: My back isn't sore.

George: It's not sore. It...has sores! You know, all that acne and stuff.

Ginger: WHAT?!

Mrs. Nelson: I don't understand? How could Henry help Ginger?

George: Well, obviously, he can't now, now that he sloshed and suspended! But if he was still on duty--

Mrs. Nelson: As a veterinarian?

George: P-pardon?

Ginger: George?! Are you calling me a 'dog'?!

George (clasping her hands in his and rubbing his shoulders comfortingly): NO, no, of course not! My Dad told me about Doctor Nelson and said he was the best dermatologist in town!

Mrs. Nelson (indignant): I'm the dermatologist! So you just assumed that as a woman I couldn't be one?!

George: No no no! That's not it! My Dad's insane and he leaves out important details all the time!

Mrs. Nelson: We're leaving, Henry. Let's go. At least it was nice meeting you, Ginger! I'll see you on Tuesday.

The Nelsons stand up and begin to leave.

Ginger: Thank you, Doctor Nelson. Well, George. So my acne is a problem to you?

George: No, not at all! Ha! Certainly not! It's not as if I've noticed and given you a nickname like, like, 'Moon Girl' or something!

Ginger (shocked, and standing up to leave): If you'd paid any attention to me tonight, George, instead of getting all liquored-up with your druggie-friend, you would have heard me discuss my little problem with the real Doctor Nelson, who offered her services to me to get rid of my pimple!

George: No no no! It's like that at all! I...'pimple'? 'Pimple', as in singular? As in...'one pimple'?

Ginger: Yes, of course, what did you think? I have a pimple on my forehead underneath my bangs that's driving me crazy! I'm very self-conscious about it and desperately want to have it looked after!


Ginger: Yes, And fortunately I was able to hide it from you all this time, but I see you're so vain and callous that it bothers you enough trick a doctor into coming here and looking at it! I owe you that much, George, but you could have said something before!

George: Just one pimple?!

Ginger: Yes, George, one pimple. But you wouldn't understand. I suppose I can't exist in your perfect world! I don't think we should see each other again, George. Good-bye.

George: No, no, no! Moon Girl--I mean, Ginger, wait! Just let me--! (Ginger is gone, and the Waitress arrives to give the check to George. He picks it up and nearly gags on the total) George is getting screwed! What else could go wrong tonight?!

Poppy (walks up to George's table, recognizing him): Aaaah, George Costanza-- Jerry's friend! Howda you like-a the food tonight?! I made-a every dinner tonight-a for the first-a time in-a year! My suspension; she's a-over!

George tosses the check onto the table, and begins to slid down into the booth, barely able to withhold his panic and frustration.


Night time view with very few people passing by on the street.


The restaurant is empty, except for a single waitress speaking on the phone. Jerry and a Hobo. Jerry is still tapping the table to the beat of a song, this time The Eagle's 'Hotel California'.

Hobo: ...and that's how I invented the Internet! Pretty easy. I was bored one Friday afternoon...

Jerry: Yeah, yeah. Nice. Oh! Here it comes! Here it comes! (Jerry breaks out into air guitar during a guitar solo)

Hobo: Do ya wanna know how I killed Castro?

Jerry: He's still alive.

Hobo: That's what I wanted all of youse to keep thinking! I replaced him with a look-alike. A clone a created in my garage in 1944!

Jerry: You should write a book revealing all of your inventions, Yugo. It's time the world knew the discoverer of dust-bunnies!

Hobo: I would, if I wasn't already a multi-trillionaire from Latveria! Unfortunately, the dictator that's in power there would pay a fine Ruskie-penny to find me alive and well here in Metropolis!

Kramer arrives in his housecoat, momentarily staggers from the annoying music playing, and approaches Jerry and the Hobo.

Kramer: Okay, Jer. Time to go home. It's over.

Jerry: No, I don't think so, Kramer! Oooh! Listen! Another hit! 'Sharp-Dressed Man' by ZZ Top!

Hobo: Hey! How did you get outta yer cage, Sting?!

Jerry: I've found a new friend, I'm at peace with the world, and have found the best place to sit and eat and listen to music. (the lights dim and most shut off, as the waitress turns off 'Sharp-Dressed Man' before it ends.) Oh, oh. W-wh-what's happening?

Waitress: We're closed! Get the hell outta here already, willya?!

Jerry: Nonono! It can't end like this! It can't!

Hobo: Do you want me to clone her into a nice waitress, Jerry?

Kramer: C'mon, buddy; it's 2:30 in the morning, and Monk's is closed for now. It's already two and half hours into your birthday, and this is no way to spend it.

Jerry: All right, all right. I guess so. It was nice meeting you, Yugo.

Hobo: You, too, Jerry. Thanks for the coffee and donuts and sandwiches and cake and hot dogs and--


The trio leave Monk's.


It's morning again.


Elaine and Puddy are on one side, while George is on the other. Jerry dashes in, stops suddenly and closes his eyes, his arms spread out as if to say 'Take-me!'. The others watch him, until Jerry opens one eye and then the other, and looks up at the ceiling and around himself. All he can hear are people talking and eating- the music is gone.

Jerry stiffly and slowly approaches his friends and sits down in the booth with them, looking like he's in shock.

Jerry: What's going on?! Where's the cool music! Where're my Eagles and Beatles and Monkees--

Elaine: Oh, my!

George: No more music. Seems it freaked out the owners when somebody refused to leave when he was asked fifteen times yesterday so the muzak is no more.

Jerry (softly and to himself): The day the music died. And they were singing, bye-bye Miss American Pie, brought the Chevy to the levy, but the--

Waitress: Shut up already!

Jerry sinks in his chair, but sits up again as George hands him a wrapped present.

George: Anyways, happy birthday, Jer!

Jerry: Oh, Georgie-Boy! Thanks, buddy.

Jerry opens up the present by tearing the wrapping to pieces, throwing it all over the place, even onto the occupied seats behind him. He lifts up the box top, his smile is frozen in place because he's unimpressed by what he sees, but doesn't want to hurt George's feelings. He pulls out a tiny 2-inch Superman figure, encased within a large plastic bubble and even larger cardboard backing. The figure is almost invisible amongst the colorful over-sized packaging, which makes up 85 % of the gift.

George: Cool, huh?! That's the new size for superhero figures these days! They've got them all down to that size now so they don't take up so much room! That way you can collect a whole Justice League of superheroes and they'll only take up about one square foot on you desk!

Jerry (smiling and through gritting teeth): That's...great...George. Thank you. (Under his breath) Even though I only like Superman and wouldn't be caught dead with a Flash or Green Arrow--

George (annoyed): What was that?

Jerry: Just reading the packaging...all 10 square feet of it. (Squints as he examines the tiny figure) What's wrong with his eyes?

George: What?

Jerry: He looks cross-eyed. Superman is cross-eyed! And is that a red dot on his chest?

George: Whatever! I wanted to get you something bigger--

Elaine: A cuff-link would have been bigger!

George: --but I'm tapped out of funds for the month as it is! Dinner last night was a little...pricey.

Jerry (to Elaine and Puddy): George is dating a Scabby Girl.

George: Moon Girl, Jerry, Moon Girl! Anyways, the Moon Girl is no more.

Elaine: Was she eaten by Moon Men?

George: Worse. Her one little forehead pimple popped a good thing I had going with her!

Jerry: That would be the routine of her paying for everything?

George: Yes! I had it so good! I never ate better! But she found out that I was trying to get her to see a dermatologist for her back, where the real problem was, but she seems completely oblivious to the 3-D map of the Moon on her back!

Elaine: Well, anyway, here's my present, Jerome! Happy birthday!

Jerry: Oooh, Laney! Thanks!

Jerry shreds the packing again, throwing even more wrapping behind him onto the shoulders of the same man in the booth behind them.

Jerry: Oh, cool. Um. Thanks.

Elaine: You don't like it?

Jerry (lifting a DVD of season 1 of 'Wonder Woman' out of the packaging for everyone to see): No, it's great. I'll be sure to...check it out.

Elaine: What? You don't like it?

Jerry: No. No, it's swell. Thanks.

Elaine: So you don't like it, is that what you're saying?

Jerry: No, I'm not saying anything. I'm thinking you're re-gifting!

Elaine: Huh? How can you say that?

Jerry: By the inexperienced re-wrapping of plastic over it, by chance? What is that, a sandwich-baggy?

Jerry hands it to George to check out, and Elaine is about to deny it, until her conscience gets the better of her.

Elaine: All right, sorry. I had to! I ran out of time, and I had to buy the thing for a research project for , and then--

George: Hey, you know what, Elaine, I never noticed how much you loom like Linda Carter!

Elaine (stares at him with rising anger): Why don't you just--

Puddy: Me, next. Stand aside, ladies, and watch as a Master Gift-Giver struts his stuff!

Puddy hands the flat gift to Jerry, who goes crazy again and tears off the wrapping, making Puddy gasp and reach forward in a panic, but unable to reach Jerry's frantic unwrapping. He stops himself and lifts the ripped present up to the table. Jerry's sad and embarrassed as he displays his $200 Superman Annual # 2 comic book, but with a large 3-inch tear in it from the top right hand corner down to the right side, the pages hanging on by less than half and inch. Puddy rests his elbows on the table and covers his eyes, speechless. Elaine stares at Jerry in shock, aware of how much the comic book costs.

Jerry ( softly and embarrassed): Oops. Sorry. Thanks.

Elaine: David, what happened to the protective plastic cover that came with the comic?!

Puddy (muffled, from behind his hands that are covering his face): I used it to bring my sandwich to work!

George gently takes the comic book from Jerry and examines it.

George: Hey, Jer...don't you already have this one?

Elaine and Puddy stare at George in shock and disbelief, as Jerry shrugs his shoulder once as if to say, 'Yes'!



DC Editor: Wellll, I can't see Batman wanting to sell Robin into the white slave market, Ted, just because he took a joyride in the Batmobile without asking, so I'll wait for you to come up with a better explanation as to why you have Robin down in El Salvador living with a family of goat herders. Let's move on to the next series now. So, Ricky, I love your artwork What do you have planned for Wonder Woman?

The nerdy, balding guy that Elaine met on the train years ago via Frank Costanza's TV Guide, who also designed a mannequin to look like her, shuffles his papers and replies,

Ricky: Now that I've rendered Wonder Woman to look the way I want her to look, I have a 12-issue arc where Wonder Woman is hit in the head by a pineapple in Hawaii and develops amnesia, and forgets her true identity of Diana. She's aided by a handsome, but shy mortal man, who helps her recover her memory, after a year of living together as man and wife, and going by the name of...Elaine!