Tuesday, January 22, 2008

The Story of Joe – Wings Transcript 2.2

The Story of Joe Wings TranscriptAt the Logan Airport in Boston…

Passenger: Hey, Mac, when are we gonna get this crate off the ground?
Brian: Sir, I’m sorry, but the gate just called said that we’re waiting for two more passengers. I’m very sorry.

Brian looks out the window.

Brian: Ah! Ah! This looks like them now.   Continue reading...

Brian opens the window.

Brian: Excuse me, sir. Uh, we’re pretty full up at the moment. I don’t think we have room for that case of beer.

Cliff enters the plane.

Cliff: There, put that down, Normie. They’re not going to wait till you drink all those. Are you?
Brian: Uh, no. No.
Cliff: I didn’t think so.

Cliff makes his way to the front of the plane.

Brian: You can sit right up here next to me.

Cliff chuckles.

Cliff: Well, that’s great. Thank you there, skipper. Uh, I got the old shotgun position. Yeah. I’ll keep watch for the kamikazes for you.

Norm enters the plane and talks to the guys down the runway.

Norm: Now, you fellows promise that stuff will be here when I get back?
Brian: I wouldn’t worry. Those teamsters will guard that beer with their lives.

Norm makes his way behind Cliff.

Cliff: This is probably as close as you’re gonna get to the actual control panel of an airplane. So, I’d like to, uh, give you a little tour of the cockpit if you don’t mind, here. You’re probably wondering, first, what this little dial is, over there. That’s your, uh, ignito vector overdrive.
Brian: Sir, uh, would you mind fastening your seat belt?

Cliff mimicks a radio.

Cliff: Uh, 10-4, captain.
Norm: Can’t wait to get out on the water. Do you know how the fishing is around Nantucket?
Brian: Oh, yeah, I hear they’re bitin’ like pit bulls at a mailman convention.

Brian and Norm laugh. Cliff is not amused.

Cliff: That supposed to be funny?
Brian: Guess not.

Cliff taps the altimeter.

Brian: Don’t do that.
Cliff: Well, your altimeter’s stuck at zero, there.
Brian: We’re on the ground.

Cliff stammers.

Cliff: Oh, yeah, that checks out. Well, uh, I’m about ready to take off, there. How about you, sky king?
Brian: Just one more preflight adjustment to make.
Cliff: What’s that?
Brian: Would you two guys mind switching seats?
Cliff: Oh, I get it, redistribution of payload.

Cliff removes his seatbelt and switches seats with Norm.

Cliff: That’s your, uh, R.D.P., ladies and gentlemen.
Norm: Is this for, uh, safety reasons?
Brian: Oh, yeah. If he’d stayed up here, I’d have killed him.
Norm: Oh. So, uh, what time does cocktail service start?
Brian: Oh, we don’t have cocktail service.

Norm grunts and pulls out a can of beer from his pocket.

Norm: You do now.

Fay talks on the PA.

Fay: Announcing the arrival of Sandpiper Air Flight 48 from Boston and for the benefit of our French-Canadian visitors, I’m afraid I don’t speak your beautiful language.

Helen hands Joe his utensils. Joe looks at the fork and wipes it clean. Helen sees Joe and she’s not amused. She hands him a coffee mug and he starts wiping that too.

Helen: What are you, a raccoon?
Joe: There were spots.
Helen: Are you insinuating that my utensils are unclean? ‘cause I will have you know that I clean each and every one of these—

Helen grabs the spoon from Joe and looks at it.

Helen: Oh gross.

Joe continues to scrub the rest of the utensils.

Helen: What is the matter with you?
Joe: Well, remember I told you that a reporter from American Flyer Magazine was coming to interview me?
Helen: Right.
Joe: It’s today. It…it’s no big deal.
Helen: Then, how come you have goose bumps?
Joe: I don’t have goose bumps.
Helen: Lowell, take a look at these honkers, man.

Lowell looks at Joe’s arm.

Lowell: Wow, they look almost like real geese.
Joe: Come on, I’m just cold, all right?
Helen: No, it’s not cold in here, actually, it’s kind of hot. Anybody else hot in here?
All: Yeah!
Joe: Ok,ok, I have goose bumps. They’re in “V” formation, they’re flying south for the winter. Is everybody happy?

Everybody grunts.

Joe: Come on, this could be important for me. The last independent airline this magazine profiled went from a 2-plane operation to a 6-plane operation in one year.
Helen: Really? You think that could happen to you, Joe?
Joe: You never know.

Joe daydreams of seeing his photo at the cover of American Flyer Magazine.

Roy: Hey Hackett, so, American Flyer hit you up for that article, huh?
Joe: Yeah. Sure, did.

Roy laughs.

Roy: They’ve been after me for months to do an article, but I’m too busy. I guess when they realized I wouldn’t be at their beck and call they went to their “B” list. When that didn’t pan out, they went to you.
Joe: You are not gonna ruin this for me, Roy. This is gonna be good publicity in a respected air magazine.
Roy: Please, please, forgive me, Mr. Big Shot.

Roy pats Joe’s back.

Roy: I didn’t mean to rain on your parade.

Roy snickers.

Helen: Then cover your mouth when you talk. You’re spraying like a garden hose.

Helen serves Joe his food. Passengers arrive at the terminal. Cliff enters with his arm around Brian.

Cliff: Uh, you know, I betcha if you made about, oh, I don’t know, 20 degree adjustment on those trim tabs that baby’d settle down on the runway like a butterfly with sore feet.

Cliff slaps Brian’s back.

Brian: Uh-huh. Uh-huh.

Brian turns to Norm.

Brian: Hey, uh, does he talk to people like that all the time?
Norm: Oh, he doesn’t need people.

Brian leaves.

Norm: Cliffie, let’s go down to the wharf, charter a boat.
Cliff: Hey.
Lowell: I’ve uh, got a boat for charter. And she’s a beauty I’ll give you a great deal, too.
Norm: All right, sounds good.
Cliff: Hey.
Lowell: Of course, my family lives on the boat, but they won’t get in your way. Don’t mind the little one. He’ll probably just crawl right up on your lap and fall asleep. At least that way, he won’t eat the bait. And, uh, try to ignore the skin rash the little guy’s got. Uh, the clinic says that it’s not contagious.

Lowell starts scratching himself.

Cliff: That’s good, well, uh, we’ll get back to you, uh, there, Captain Nemo.
Lowell: All righty.

Lowell tries to pat Cliff, but he steps back. They chuckle.

Cliff: See you later. Shiver your timbers, pal.
Norm: There’s one gene pool you don’t want to take a dip in.
Joe: Well, listen, listen, you guys are looking to charter a boat, try Jack O’Shea. Tell him Joe Hackett sent you.
Cliff: Oh, Jackie O’Shea, huh?

Cliff puts his arm around Joe and chuckles.

Cliff: Sounds like an Irish bloke. I betcha we’re not gonna have any trouble getting cocktail service on that boat.

Cliff laughs and walks away humming.

Norm: Uh, he’s—he’s an ok guy. It just takes a little time to get used to him. I’m about, uh, two years away myself.

The man who was complaining on Brian’s flight enters the terminal and approaches Fay.

Ted: Yeah, I’m Ted Cobb from American Flyer Magazine. I’m looking for Joe Hackett.
Fay: Uh, that’s him right over there.

Fay points at Joe.

Fay: Oh, and in case you need it for your article, my name is Fay Evelyn Cochran, my favorite color is blue, and I was the first stewardness to use the emergency exit gesture.

Fay shows Ted the emergency exit gesture.

Ted: I’ve seen your work. Thanks.

Roy runs up to Ted Cobb.

Roy: Excuse me, Mr. Cobb.

Roy shakes Ted’s hand.

Roy: I’m Roy Biggins, owner of Aeromass, the island’s number one airline. Here, have an Aeromass pen. You know, sir, the fact that you have been overlooked for the Pulitzer Prize is unconscionable. May I award you with an Aeromass mug?

Ted takes the mug then walks away.

Roy: And—and, sir, if—if you could see your way clear –

Roy follows and almost grabs Ted.

Roy: To mentioning my—my airline in—in your magazine,

Roy starts whimpering and he wipes tears with an Aeromass face cloth.

Roy: It would be so…

Roy stammers.

Roy: Here, have an Aeromass face cloth.

Joe approaches Ted.

Joe: Ted, nice to meet you. I’m—I’m Joe Hackett. Why don’t we go in my office?
Ted: You’ve got some real whackos in this island, Hackett.

Ted throws Roy’s goodies in the trash.

Joe: Oh. So, you’ve met my brother, huh?
Ted: Is that guy your brother?
Joe: Oh, no, that’s Roy. I don’t think he has any siblings.

Joe points to Roy. Roy waves.

Joe: Word is, he ate ‘em in the nest.

Ted and Joe enter the office.

Joe: Uh, have a seat, Ted. So, uh, what angle are you gonna take for this article?

Ted sits down and pulls out a notepad from his briefcase.

Joe: I mean, you have the romance of the “One man, one plane”, and there’s the drama of David versus Goliath.

Joe sits on the desk.

Joe: I guess it just depends on what you’re looking for.
Ted: I’m looking to fill three pages.
Joe: I see.
Ted: Now, look Hackett, I’m not gonna kid you. I hate flying. I hate writing for this stupid magazine. I’m only here because my editor’s aunt flew on your little airline and thought it would make a cute story.
Joe: Yeah, I think it might.
Ted: I don’t do cute. I never had to do cute when I worked for Mercenary Monthly.

Joe is stumped.

Ted: Now, there was a magazine you could sink your teeth into. You could write stories with raw power that would leave the taste of blood in your mouth. But back to reality. Start at the beginning.
Joe: Well, uh, when I was a kid, you’re never guess who my hero was.
Ted: Chuck Yeager.

Ted pulls out a magazine from his pocket.

Joe: Yeah! How did you know?
Ted: I’m psychic.

Ted starts reading. Brian enters the office.

Joe: Brian, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on your way to Provincetown.
Brian: Yeah, Lowell had to pull the plane in, there was a small leak in the fuel line.
Joe: Oh, uh, well, Ted, this would be good for you to see—uh, Ted?

Ted stops reading and looks up.

Joe: This would be good for you to see. Uh, here at Sandpiper Air, safety is our number one priority. That’s why I hired the best mechanic on Nantucket.

Joe pulls up the blind. Lowell is sitting on top of one of the engines. Joe taps the window. Lowell waves at Joe and falls off the plane.

Brian: He’s kind of a mechanic savant.

Joe pulls down the blinds.

Joe: Oh, uh, Ted Cobb, this is Brian, my brother. He’s my other pilot.
Ted: Oh, yeah.
Brian: Ted Cobb? You’re not the Ted Cobb who wrote for Mercenary Monthly, are you?
Ted: Yeah, I am.
Brian: Oh, man! I love your stuff! My favorite was a 4-part article on the sucking chest wound. Oh!

Ted is amused.

Ted: Yeah, I was, uh, pretty proud of that.
Brian: Oh, man! I used to read your magazine from cover to cover when I was flying out of Mustique.
Ted: You flew out of Mustique?

Ted puts down his magazine.

Ted: I lived there for two years! Hey, did you ever go drinking at Basil’s?
Brian: Are you kidding me? They named a drink after me, “The Traumatic Head Injury”.

Ted laughs.

Brian: That’s me, yeah, yeah. In fact, I remember this one time, Princess Margaret walks in and she needs a light for her cigarette, who knew she smoked, right? So, I grabbed a Tiki torch…
Joe: Ahem!

Ted laughs. Joe nudges Brian.

Brian: Uh, but what am I going on about? This, uh, this article’s all about Joe, right?
Ted: Who’s Joe?

Brian points to Joe.

Ted: Oh, right.
Brian: Joe, Joe, tell him about the time you were flying the Sultan of Brunei and one of your engines blew and you had to—oh, wait a second. That was me. Ok, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Tell him about the time you were flying and your wings iced up and you had to make an emergency landing on Lake—
Joe: Nope, nope. That—that was you, too.
Brian: Oh. Wow! What a life I’ve led.
Joe: You know, Ted, it isn’t often that I brag about Sandpiper’s on-time records, but I’ve got some stats here—

Ted takes his pen and notepad.

Ted: Hey, uh, listen, Brian, tell me what outfit did you fly with out of Mustique?
Brian: Uh, Iguana Airlines. “We’re ugly, but we get your there.”

Ted laughs.

Ted: They were a nutty bunch.
Brian: Oh, tell me about it. Tell me about it. Hey, I remember this one time I’m flying a planeload of swimsuit models down to St. Thomas, right. So, halfway there, we developed a little engine trouble, so I have to ditch.
Ted: Wait, now, slow down, slow, I wanna get all of this.
Brian: Ok, ok. Wait, wait, wait, so, I ditched and here I am, I’m on this deserted beach with these six gorgeous babes looking to me for protection. Thank goodness, I had some.

Ted and Brian both laugh. Joe is a bit annoyed.

Joe: I’m just gonna, uh, get a cup of coffee.
Brian: I mean, far be it for me to tell them that there was a Sheraton on the other end of the island.

Ted guffaws.

Joe: Then I’m gonna put a bone in my nose light my hair on fire and do the Lambada with Fay.
Brian: Good, Joe. Thank you.
Ted: A Sheraton!

Ted exclaims.

Ted: I love this!

Ted continues to laugh. Joe leaves the office.

Roy: Hackett! Hackett! Did Ted say anything about me?
Joe: Yeah, he said, you’re the sexiest man he’s ever seen.
Roy: Really?

Joe goes behind the lunch counter.

Helen: How’s your interview going?
Joe: Oh, it’s going along nicely only, I don’t seem to be part of it anymore. Hey, what’re you two guys still doing here?
Cliff: Ah, soaking up some local color.
Norm: Yeah, I’m soaking up my second right now.

Norm raises his mug of beer.

Norm: And a beautiful amber it is, too.

Joe: Helen, I need an anecdote.
Cliff: Well, my friend, you’ve come to the right place. It was 1967, I believe—
Helen: Yeah, yeah, yeah, just drink your beer.

Helen whispers.

Helen: He never shuts up.
Joe: C-c-come one. Helen, help me out here. Brian’s in there dazzling Ted with stories about his flying career--

Helen walks away from behind the counter. Joe follows her.

Joe: And I can’t remember any good stuff about me. Uh, granted, Brian is a little more outgoing and all, but I think I’m a pretty interesting guy, too.
Helen: Oh, I’m sorry, Joe, what?
Joe: Never mind.

Joe leaves Helen. Lowell approaches Joe.

Lowell: Joe, I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news. Good news is, the plan’es fixed.
Joe: What’s the bad news?
Lowell: I think I’m possessed by Satan. Either that or ragweed season has come early.

Lowell sneezes. Joe looks at Fay.

Joe: My money’s on Satan.

Joe sits beside Fay and sighs.

Joe: Hey, why am I trying to compete with Brian? I’ve got my own story, and it’s a damn good one. I mean, I started this airline with nothing but $5,000, and my own sweat and spit.
Fay: Joe, that’s kind of disgusting.
Joe: And now it’s a growing business. I mean, I am an American success story. If Ted Cobb can’t see that, I’m just gonna have to open his eyes.

Ted and Brian step out of the office. Ted laughs. Joe approach them.

Brian: By the third day, those girls had elected me king!

Ted laughs his heart out.

Joe: Yeah, Brian, the plane’s fixed, let’s get it in the air.

Brian exclaims.

Brian: What’s the magic word?
Joe: Eunuch.
Brian: I’m out of here.

Brian leaves.

Joe: So, uh, Ted, why don’t we go back to my office? I wanna tell you the history of Sandpiper Air from day one.
Ted: Hackett, history’s for geeks. I’m looking for stories with real excitement.
Joe: Oh, well, now that I know what you want, let’s just go back—
Ted: Maybe later. I’m gonna fly with Brian on this next flight. Get a good look at the operation.
Joe: Oh, good. Good. Uh, when you get back, I’ll take you to lunch, my treat.
Ted: Uh, sorry, Joe, no can do. I’m having lunch with the Bri-guy.

Ted leaves. Joe turns to Fay.

Joe: “The Bri-guy”?

Joe daydreams and Brian replaces his picture on the magazine.
Cliff and Norm are at The Club Car.

Cliff: So, thereore, the clam is the only bivalve with, uh, an erogenous zone. Uh it’s located right here under the Scumpus. See?

Cliff points at the clam. Helen and Joe arrive. Helen sees Cliff. She gasps.

Helen: Quick, Joe, run!
Cliff: Oh, look who’s here!
Joe: Hey.
Norm: Hey.
Joe: How come you guys aren’t out on the water yet? It’s after 1:00.
Cliff: Well, uh, we’re a lot closer than we were before.
Norm: Yeah.

Cliff sniffs.

Cliff: I can even smell the salt air from here.
Norm: You know that cold be the beer nuts you smell, huh?

Norm places he bowl of peanuts under Cliff’s nose.

Cliff: Yeah, yeah. That’s what it is.
Norm: One of the other. I don’t know.
Cliff: Well, you know, we were on our way to see your friend O’Shea and, uh, we were sashaying by this little, uh, pub and Normie suggested we drop in to get directions and we just fell victim to its unique charm.
Norm: We have absolutely no place like this in Boston.
Cliff: So, what do you say, Norm? Want to go up to the big ones?

Norm grunts.

Norm: Yep! All right.

Norm looks at Joe.

Norm: I hear they serve 60-ounce mugs down the street.

Cliff and Norm leave.

Joe: Oh, hey, Helen, look. It’s Brian and that guy from the magazine. What a surprise, let’s go join them.
Helen: Hey, wait a minute. You didn’t wanna take me to lunch. I’m only here so it won’t look like you’re pathetically tagging along after them. Joe, why didn’t you just tell me the truth?
Joe: Would you have come?
Helen: Of course not. I have a lunch counter. I don’t normally close it at lunch to got to lunch. That’s why it’s called a lunch counter.
Joe: Helen, I just want the guy to know he’s missing out on a damn good story.

Joe makes his way to Brian and Ted’s table.

Helen: Yes. But this is not—
Joe: Hey, Helen, look, it’s Brian and Ted.
Helen: Hi.
Joe: Hey, guys, uh, do you mind if we join you?
Brian: Uh, no, no, grab a seat.

Joe sits beside Ted.

Joe: You know, uh, Ted, after you left, I thought of a pretty hair-raising experience I think might be just the kind of story you’re looking for.
Ted: Finally.

Ted takes his notepad.

Joe: I’d just taken off from Hyannis with a full load of passengers when out of nowhere a squall hit so I told the passengers to strap in and hang on.
Ted: Hey, this is good. Go on.
Joe: Well, the thunder was crashing, lightning’s flashing all around us my gauges were going haywire, when suddenly, one of my engines quits.
Ted: And you went on a spin?
Joe: No, no, no, I got it started again. But by this time, we were in a steep dive. The ocean was rushing up to meet us.
Ted: So, you had to ditch.
Joe: No. No, no, no, I—I leveled her out just as the whitecaps were licking at our underbelly and we made it back to Nantucket.
Ted: Where you crash-landed.
Joe: No, we—we landed safely.
Ted: Any fatalities? Multiple injuries? Anything?
Joe: Well, I could have sworn I heard one of the passengers say, “Dear God”.
Ted: I see. Will you excuse me a second here?
Brian: Sure.

Ted leaves.

Joe: What, the guy takes off points ‘cause nobody was killed?
Brian: Well, what are you doing here?
Joe: What do you mean?
Brian: Well, I mean, Helen owns the lunch counter, she doesn’t close it down at lunch time to go out to have lunch.
Joe: All right, all right, all right. I’m here to make sure you don’t swipe my story.
Brian: I’m not trying to swipe your story—
Joe: This is just like you, Brian, you’ve always tried to steal my thunder.
Brian: I mean, you’re way off base, here.
Joe: This isn’t the first time you’ve pulled this.
Brian: What are you—
Joe: What about my confirmation? I’m just about to kiss the bishop’s ring, you fall on the floor and start making all those noises.
Brian: I was having an asthma attack.
Joe: Yeah, like that wasn’t planned.
Brian: Uh, for your information, pal, I just spent the whole day talking about you.
Helen: To the bishop?
Brian grabs a tablecloth.

Brian: Make a puppet.

Brian hands Helen the tablecloth.

Brian: Joe, if you don’t believe me, why don’t you take a look at Ted’s notes? They’re right inside his briefcase.
Joe: No, no, I can’t do that.

Brian exclaims.

Joe: It’s his personal property. I have not right to—
Brian: Why not?
Joe: Oh, oh. Oh, I see, I see. You know that I won’t look I there and that way I won’t know what you said to him.

Brian opens Ted’s briefcase and takes out his notepad.

Helen: Brian.
Joe: Hey! Helen, you are a witness they are officially out of the briefcase.
Brian: Go ahead, read ‘em out loud.
Joe: With pleasure.
Brian: Go ahead.
Joe: “Joe Hackett, best pilot I’ve ever seen.”

Brian plays with his food.

Joe: “Cool in a crisis, taught me everything I know about flying.”

Helen smiles and nudges Brian.

Joe: “Once turned down an offer to sing with the Doodletown Pipers?” They never offered me a job.
Brian: Oh, I know, but if they had, I’d like to think you’d have had the good taste to turn them down.
Joe: Oh, man.

Joe closes the notepad and he hides his face with his hand.

Joe: Brian, I—I don’t know what to say. I’m—
Brian: Forget it. Forget it.
Helen: Here he comes!

Helen throws the notepad at Joe.

Brian opens the briefcase. Joe slips the notepad inside.

Ted: Well, guys, I’m out of here.

Ted closes his briefcase.

Joe: What?
Ted: Yeah. I just called my editor. I gave him an overview of what we had so far and he killed the story. We just couldn’t find the angle we were looking for.
Joe: What angle was that?
Ted: The interesting one. So long.

Joe daydreams and the magazine with his picture up front is run over by a car.
Joe pushes the chair and walks away.

Brian: Where you going?
Joe: Out.

Norm and Cliff are back at the airport.

Cliff: Oh, come one, Norm. I’m telling you, it was this big.
Norm: Cliffie, it was more like this, ok?

Norm moves Cliff’s hands to a breadth that’s smaller.

Cliff: Norm, I saw it with my own eyes and it was this big.
Lowell: Sounds like you guys finally got some fish.
Norm: Yeah, you bet.
Lowell: How many did you catch?
Cliff: Well, we didn’t actually go fishing. We’re, uh, talking about the size of the seafood platter Norm had at Captain Andy’s.
Norm: Which was this big.
Cliff: Norm, I’m telling you, it was this big and that’s why they call it the supertanker.

Roy talks on the PA.

Roy: Aeromass Flight 37 to Boston will now begin boarding through gate one.
Norm: Let’s go. I definitely want to come back here, though.
Cliff: Yeah, yeah. Think next time we should actually go fishing?
Norm: What? And ruin a perfectly good fishing trip?

Cliff and Norm make their way out the gate.
Brian is at the radio and sighs.

Brian: Cessna Nevada, 1-2-1, Papa-Papa, this is Tom Nevers Field. Come in, over.

Fay enters the office.

Fay: Have you been able to contact Joe yet?
Brian: Ah, he’s not answering.
Fay: He’s been up there for two hours. That boy can be so stubborn sometimes, I just wanna box his ears.
Brian: Yeah, I know what you mean.
Fay: And then throw him into the turnbuckle and give him a good pile driver.
Brian: Fay!

Brian chuckles.

Fay: I’m sorry, I’ve been watching entirely too much wrestling.

Fay leaves. Brian talks on the radio again.

Brian: Cessna Nevada, 1-2-1, Papa-Papa, this is Tom Nevers Field. Come in, over.
Joe: Tom Nevers Field, this is Cessna Nevada, 1-2-1, Papa-Papa, over.
Brian: Cessna Nevada, 1-2-1, Papa-Papa, can we stop using these stupid numbers and just go by our names?
Joe: Roger.
Brian: No, it’s Brian.

Brian laughs.

Brian: Joe, what are you doing up there?
Joe: I just need to do some thinking.
Brian When are you coming down? Helen’s worried sick about you.
Joe: Really?
Brian: Well, actually, she left over an hour ago, but she did say you owe her $3.50 for breakfast so she was thinking about you. I’m really sorry that the article thing didn’t work out.
Joe: Yeah, thanks. And, uh, I’m sorry I accused you of trying to steal my story.
Brian: Apology accepted, babe.
Joe: You know, Brian, I didn’t know why I was trying so hard to prove myself to that jerk. I don’t care what he thinks. I mean, I—I may not lived in all the exotic places you have, and done all the death-defying things, but that doesn’t matter. So, I don’t make good copy, but I’m a damned good pilot and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy with who I am, it’s just that every once in a while, I…now, now I’m gonna say something but you have to promise me you won’t ever throw this back at me, or tell anyone I ever said it. Sometimes I wish I was a little more like you. Brian?
Brian: Hey, Joe, I just found out the coolest thing. If you turn this dial a little bit to the left, I can pick up the dog races from Miami. I—I’m sorry, what did you say? Uh, uh, nothing, um, I’m heading home. Leave a light on for me. Out.

Brian puts down the radio, turns it off and sighs.

Brian: Sometimes I wish I was a little more like you, too.

This is not the actual script. This is my own transcription of the episode. The “The Story of Joe” episode was written by Bruce Rasmussen. Wings is owned by CBS Studios Inc., Paramount Pictures and Grub Street Productions.

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