The Breakdown (1)

Hank:That sign says 'Applesauce.' No, no, no. I'm kidding. It says 'applause.'

Announcer:and now, because it's a condition of his probation, Larry Sanders!

Larry:He said for a million dollars, he'd let Robert Redford sleep with Hillary.

Larry:If Robert Redford has to pay a million dollars to get laid... Do I need to finish this thought? Imagine what Hank must have to pay.

Larry:I am not watching my show right now. I'm watching Bonanza. That is not Hank. That is Hoss.

Beverly:Why do you put her through?

Larry:Larry, you called her.

Beverly:Oh, that's right.

Larry:Do I have trouble prioritizing emotional commitments?

Beverly:Oh, please, don't ask me. I haven't had a healthy relationship since junior high.

Larry:Well, let's stick to me today.

Artie:Jesus! Are you laying in your own puke?

Artie:Who are they? It's a mystery.

Larry:They don't need to be a mystery to me, Artie. I'm the host.

Artie:I'll tell you who got nominated. Letterman, Saturday Night Live, and I'll bet you Billy Crystal hosting the Academy Awards. Am I right? What's the other one? A Jackie Mason Hanukkah, Artie?

Artie:Walk it off?

Larry:Cancel. Move on. Why don't I just put ice on it? It's a marriage, for god's sakes!

Larry:They're out there. You don't need to check. Artie was selling them like there's no tomorrow. They must be there, or he wouldn't be in here saying there's hot towels. They must be out there very close by. There's hot towels out there. I could tell.

Hank:I thought you were talking about the Emmy nominations. Oh, screw her! She was always trying to drive a wedge between Larry and me.

Hank:We'd hit the bar at the Bel Air hotel, work a little skirt.

Larry:Jerry van dyke. Fuck him.

Larry:This towel isn't even hot!

Phoenix?

They're dropping you for Chevy Chase.

You're kidding.

Hard to believe, isn't it?

Kathy Ireland:They're great. Open-toed.

Larry:Mine are closed-toed-- I like all your shoes.

Larry:Until we get this show on track, I have no dick.

Artie:No dick? Check.

Larry:Jesus, he's dipping into the toilet. I agree. Why didn't we get the Buttafuocos on? They turned us down. Good. They're not right for the show anyway. I agree. Fucking Koppel blurs the line. My god, no, it's not right.

Larry:Who can afford a hair weave or a transplant? And for that matter, who knows a baboon who wants to give you his hair?

Larry:If it's Hank, why isn't Hank here? Hank has one line, and it's his name. You think he can do that without a rehearsal?

Artie:Isn't 'cap in a can' funnier?

Larry:Cap in a can. Ha! You're right! That's funnier. Cap in a can!

Larry:This doesn't look like it comes from a can. I understand how this part could come from a can, but how would the brim know to come out of the can before the rest of the hat?

Artie:I'm pissing in my pants, conceptual flaw and all!

Writer:I'm sure that the writers can cook up something funny about your marital disorders.

Beverly:He's been working on them since 1989.

Artie:No, no. Lee Marvin lost everything but the dog.

Artie:It should with that hippie in the white house.

Larry:What kind of bit? Two guys with patches on. Take it off.

Hank:Uh, she's almost housebroken.

Larry:It says, 'Have fun in Vegas.' I'm not going to Vegas.

Hank:Yes, you are.

Hank:I've seen men try to lose themselves in their work like this before-- Redd Foxx and Dick Shawn and Regis Philbin. Capisce?

Hank:But the best cure for stress is... Blow jobs. Bingo.

Larry:What a little kiss-ass.

Hank:Bob Stevens. Who's Bob Stevens? Bob Stevens is an ordinary, everyday guy.

Larry:Well... This is really going to sell.

Larry:Bob, I guess you're pretty sold on this product. Aren't you, Bob? Bob? Hank? Yeah.

Artie:You can't buy those kind of fuck-ups, Larry.

Larry:Let's book Boy George. His smack problems are behind him.

Larry:You ever feel like somebody grabbed you, when they weren't there?

Artie:No.

Larry:That was weird.

Artie:That's a heart attack.

Hank:I first met Larry in the spring of 1985. My cruise liner was moored off the coast of portugal. Amen.

Larry:Hank? Ge the fuck off the bed.

Beverly:You're 42. Don't push so hard.

Larry:This heart attack is a warning. It was a heart episode.

Beverly:You know what I mean.

Beverly:And she took the dog.

Hank:Before you know it, your head turns sideways, you're coughing.

Larry:I'm just gonna go fuck myself.

Hank:Stress kills, you know? And-- and we all know, the best relief in the world for stress is--

Larry:Don't say it, Hank.

Hank:Blowjobs.

Writer:Is that anything like a designing women episode?

Larry:Yes, in that they both make you sick?

Writer:Yes, and involve fatty build-up.

Larry Sanders:Most people are mad at me.

Larry:Wow, if your back end gets too big, you gotta get a Stairmaster.

Hank:This is 8 ball in the corner pocket. This is game over. All we need are our cue sticks, it sounds like to me. Hey, now. You bring the chalk.