Episode 107 - The Fusilli Jerry
pc: 619, season 6, episode 21
Broadcast date: April 27, 1995
Written by Marjorie Gross
Story by Marjorie Gross & Jonathan Gross and Ron Hague & Charlie Rubin
Directed by Andy Ackerman
Jerry Seinfeld ....................... Jerry Seinfeld
Jason Alexander .................. George Costanza
Julia Louis-Dreyfus ............. Elaine Benes
Michael Richards ................. Cosmo Kramer
Marla Sucharetza ................. Nancy
Lou Cutell ............................ Dr. Cooperman
Yvette Cruise ....................... Clerk
rc: Estelle Harris ................... Estelle Costanza
rc: Jerry Stiller ...................... Frank Costanza
rc: Patrick Warburton ......... David Puddy
[Opening Scene: Jerry and Elaine are outside, heading towards the apartment building]
JERRY: I hear you're going out with David Putty.
ELAINE: Yeah. What, is it a problem?
JERRY: Well, I think he could've asked me. Supposed to be a friend of mine.
ELAINE: Well, I guess he figured you just wouldn't care. It *has* been a few years.
JERRY: Elaine, you always care who an ex-girlfriend dates. You don't want it to be someone you know, and you don't want it to be someone better than you. Now, even though the latter is *obviously* impossible.
ELAINE: Oh, god.
JERRY: The former still applies. I don't know what it is, but I just can't see you with a mechanic.
ELAINE: Oh, yeah. Right, right. Well, all those mechanics do is work all day with their hands and their *big*, *muscular* arms on machines, and then they come home dripping with animal sexuality like Stanley Kowalski. What a huge turn-off that is.
JERRY: All right.
[At Monk's, George and Estelle are looking over their menus]
GEORGE: Look at that. They got lobster on the menu. Who would order a lobster here. I mean, do they bring a lobster in everyday hoping *todays* the day.
ESTELLE: So what if they have a lobster. Suddenly you're a shell-fish connoisseur.
GEORGE: You know, I think we really need to be in front of a television set. You take T.V. out of this relationship, it is *just* torture.
ESTELLE: So, I'm getting an eye job.
GEORGE: An eye job? Ma, you don't need an eye job.
ESTELLE: Georgie, I'm a divorcee.
GEORGE: No, you're not a divorcee. Youÿre just separated. You're---you're a separatee.
ESTELLE: Well, I'm out there, George.
GEORGE: No, you're not out there.
ESTELLE: I am, too!
GEORGE: You're not out there! You can't be, because *I* am out there. And if I see *you* out there, there's not enough voltage in this world to electroshock me back into coherence!
ESTELLE: Well, anyway, the operation is on Tuesday and I need you to drive me home because I'll be all drugged up.
GEORGE: Tuesday? I can't do it Tuesday. Steinbrenner needs me to run---
ESTELLE: This is the only time the doctor *has*.
(Kramer walks by their table on his way out)
GEORGE: Kramer, hey, hey! (Gets up out of his seat)
KRAMER: Hi, little buddy.
GEORGE: Come on over and sit down.
KRAMER: Hey, listen, I gotta go somewhere.
GEORGE: No, you're gonna sit down, you son of a gun...
KRAMER: All right, I'm sitting down. How are you? (Kisses Estelle on the cheek)
ESTELLE: So, Kramer. I'm getting an eye job.
KRAMER: Oh, yeah, good for you. Hey, you have to look your best. You're out there now.
GEORGE: She's not out there!
KRAMER: So, who is your doctor?
ESTELLE: Uh, Bakersoll.
KRAMER: (whistles). He's good. He's *very* good. He worked on this kid from Guatemala with no nose. Turned him into Ricardo Montalban.
GEORGE: Hey, Kramer, what are you doing Tuesday?
KRAMER: Tuesday? Uh...
GEORGE: Why doesn't *he* pick you up after the operation. He's got the car with the bench seats that you like.
ESTELLE: Oh, I don't care.
KRAMER: Yeah, I know, but I can't drive anybody anywhere until I go down to the motor vehicle bureau and get my new plates.
GEORGE: Well, giddy-up!
[At the motor vehicle bureau...]
KRAMER: Yeah, I'm here to pick up my new plates. My name is Kramer. Cosmo Kramer.
CLERK: Kramer.... (checks computer) All right...
KRAMER: All righty...
CLERK: Sign right here, please. (hands over clipboard)
KRAMER: (signs it) Okay. (The clerk hands him a manila envelope). Thanks. (opens up the envelope) Assman? Oh, no, these don't belong to me. I'm not the Assman. I think there's been a mistake.
CLERK: What's your name again?
KRAMER: Cosmo Kramer.
CLERK: (checks computer again) Cosmo Kramer. You *are* the Assman.
KRAMER: No! I'm not the Assman.
CLERK: Well, as far as the state of New York is concerned, you are.
(Failing to clear up the mistake, Kramer drives off with the new plates attached)
[Meanwhile, we join Elaine and David---in bed, I should add. David, who apparently looks satisfied, is still breathless. Elaine, on the other hand, is looking somewhat, preoccupied]
DAVID: How do you feel?
DAVID: Something the matter?
DAVID: Then what is it?
ELAINE: No, nothing.
[Later on, at Monk's, Jerry has just come in to meet Elaine. He joins her at the booth]
ELAINE: I was with David *Putty* last night.
JERRY: Yeah, so.
ELAINE: He did the move.
JERRY: What move?
ELAINE: You know...*the* move.
JERRY: Wait a second. *My* move?
JERRY: David Putty used *my* move?
ELAINE: Yes, yes.
JERRY: Are you sure?
ELAINE: Jerry! There is no confusing *that* move with any other move.
JERRY: I can't believe it. He *stole* my move.
ELAINE: What else did you tell (reaches over to slap Jerry) him. (does it again) The two of you must have had *quite* a little chat!
JERRY: Oh, it wasn't like that! I didn't even mention you. You know, we were in the garage. You know how garages are. They're conducive to sex talk. It's a high-testosterone area.
ELAINE: Because of all the pistons and the lube jobs?
JERRY: Well, I'm going down to that garage and telling him to stop doing it.
ELAINE: Well, wait---wait a second.
ELAINE: Isn't that a little...rash?
JERRY: No! He stole my move!
ELAINE: Yeah, but...*I* like the move.
JERRY: Yeah, but it's like another comedian stealing my material.
ELAINE: Well, he doesn't even do it exactly the same. He--he--he uses a pinch at the end instead of the *swirl*!
JERRY: Oh, yeah. The pinch. *I've* done the pinch. That's not new. Besides which, I don't know how you could trust any of his moves now. His whole *repertoire* could be lifted.
ELAINE: You know, it's strange, because he's such an honest mechanic.
JERRY: I know, he's probably the only honest mechanic in New York.
[Later, Jerry and George are outside, where Jerry has just bought a candy bar at the newsstand]
JERRY: ...so he stole my move and he's using it on Elaine.
GEORGE: You told David Putty your move and you didn't tell *me*? I *need* a move. You know I have no moves, Jerry. (points to the candy bar) Gimme a bite.
JERRY: Can I just get it opened first?
GEORGE: I can't believe you're hoarding sex moves. I'm out there rubbing two sticks together. You walk around with a zippo.
JERRY: All right, all right. Here. (hands George a piece of the candy bar).
GEORGE: (takes a bite) Oh, that's good. That's very good.
JERRY: You feel better?
GEORGE: Yeah, much better. All right, so what's the move, because I need *something*. This woman I'm dating, it's like she's doing her nails during love-making.
JERRY: Nancy Klopper?
GEORGE: Yeah. Never seen anyone so bored. I'm working like a dog here. Give me a moan. *Something*. I'd settle for a belch, for god's sake. All right, come on, let's have it.
JERRY: All right, George. I'm gonna tell you. But I just wanna make sure, before---
GEORGE: Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's in the vault. I'm putting it in the vault.
JERRY: It's not even a question of that. The point is when something like this is passed along, one must be certain that it's going to be used in a *conscientious* way. This is not some parlor trick to be used---
GEORGE: You're gonna tell me...or not.
JERRY: All right. On your bed. You got a headboard? You'll need a headboard.
GEORGE: I got a headboard.
JERRY: Is it padded?
JERRY: Good. How tall is she?
GEORGE: Five-foot four. Why?
JERRY: You can't have more than a one-foot differential in your heights. Otherwise, you could really hurt your neck.
GEORGE: I can't tell ya how much I appreciate this.
JERRY: George, if you could master this, you'll never be alone again.
[Back at Jerry's apartment: Jerry and George have just walked in, still conversing on the same subject]
JERRY: Now, the ending is kind of an option. I use the swirl. I like the swirl. I'm comfortable with the swirl. *I* feel the swirl is a great capper. He uses the pinch, which I find a little presumptuous.
GEORGE: Is it a clockwise swirl?
JERRY: I prefer clockwise, but it's not written in stone.
(Kramer enters, holding an object of some kind).
KRAMER: Here you go, buddy. (shows it to Jerry).
JERRY: What is it?
KRAMER: *Fusilli* Jerry! It's made from Fusilli pasta. See the microphone?
JERRY: When did you do this?
KRAMER: In my spare time. (turns to George). You know, I'm working on one of you, George. I'm using ravioli. See, the hard part is to find a pasta that captures the individual.
JERRY: Oh... Why Fusilli?
KRAMER: Because *you're* silly. Get it? (hands the Fusilli to Jerry) Yeah...
JERRY: Well, thank you very much.
GEORGE: So, did you get your new plates?
KRAMER: Oh...yeah. I got my new plates. But they mixed them up. Somebody got mine and I got their *vanity* plates.
GEORGE: What do they say?
KRAMER: Yeah. Assman, Jerry. I'm Cosmo Kramer, the Assman!
JERRY: Who would order a license plate that says "Assman"?
GEORGE: Maybe they're Wilt Chamberlain's.
JERRY: It doesn't have to be someone who gets a lot of women. It could be just some guy with a big ass.
KRAMER: Yeah, or it could be a proctologist.
JERRY: Yeah. Proctologist.
GEORGE: Come on! No doctor would put that on his car.
KRAMER: Have you ever *met* a proctologist? Well, they usually have a very good sense of humor. You meet a proctologist at a party, don't walk away. *Plant* yourself there, because you will hear the funniest stories you've ever heard. See, no one wants to admit to them that they *stuck* something up there. Never! It's always an accident. Every proctologist story ends in the same way: "It was a million to one shot, Doc. Million to one."
(A phone rings in the distant)
KRAMER: Oh! There's my phone. (He leaves)
GEORGE: So, where you gonna stick this (points to the Fusilli Jerry)
JERRY: I'll tell you where I'd like to stick it.
[We cut to the garage where David Putty is working on a car. Jerry walks in]
JERRY: Hey, David.
DAVID: Oh, hi, Jerry.
JERRY: Hey, what's the story? I hear you're doing my move.
DAVID: What move?
JERRY: What move? *My* move. The one I told you about. You used it on Elaine.
DAVID: You're move? What, are you kidding? I was doing that before I knew you. All you told me about was the ending.
JERRY: The ending is the whole thing. Without the ending, it's nothing. You had *nothing*.
DAVID: Oh, that ending was *so* obvious. I would have figured it out anyway. I didn't need you to tell me that stupid twist.
DAVID: Whatever. I don't even do it.
JERRY: Oh, yeah, I know. You do the *pinch*.
DAVID: Yeah, that's right.
JERRY: You can't come up with your own stuff , so you *steal* other peoples? You're nothing but a hack.
DAVID: Are you through, 'cuz, uh, I gotta get back to work.
JERRY: Well, I'll tell you what I'll do, you know. If you wanna do it out of town...okay. But not in the city.
DAVID: All right, how about the next time your car breaks down, you take *that* out of town.
[While driving, Jerry hits a pothole and his car is now making a clanking noise]
[We join George and Nancy, who are....getting busy under the covers.]
NANCY: Ow, George! (crawls out from beneath the covers) What are you doing?
GEORGE: (pops his head out of the covers, looking a bit confused) Uh...you know, uh...pleasuring you.
NANCY: Well, stop it!
GEORGE: You don't like the move?
NANCY: No. I don't.
GEORGE: You're kidding.
NANCY: No, I'm not. It feels like aliens poking at my body.
GEORGE: Sorry. I'll just go back to my usual routine.
[Back to Elaine and David in the middle of, uh...you know...]
ELAINE: Oh, god! Oh, god, Dave! Oh, yes! Yes!
DAVID: No, I'm sorry.
DAVID: I can't do the move.
DAVID: Oh, he's ruined it for me.
ELAINE: Oh, oh, come on, please?
DAVID: No, he called me a hack. I'm just not into doing it anymore.
ELAINE: Oh, so---so that's it?
DAVID: I'll come up with some new stuff.
[Cut to Kramer heading towards his car. He picks up a note on his windshield and reads it...]
KRAMER: "Call me. Thirty-six, twenty-four, forty-six. I think I have what you're looking for." (Pleased by the note, Kramer stumbles into his car).
(Meanwhile, Estelle is at Dr. Bakersoll's office)
DR. BAKERSOLL: I must caution you about one thing. You can't cry for at least ten day. You can ruin the operation.
ESTELLE: Oh, okay.
DR. BAKERSOLL: Now, is someone coming to pick you up?
ESTELLE: Yes, my son's friend should be here any minute.
[In the parking lot just outside, Kramer has pulls into a "Doctors Only" space]
SECURITY GUARD: Can I help you?
KRAMER: Ah, yeah. Doctor Cosmo Kramer. (points to plate) Proctology.
SECURITY GUARD: Oh, oh, okay. Sure...
KRAMER: Thanks. Have a good day.
[Kramer is driving Estelle home]
KRAMER: I just can't get over how fantastic you look.
ESTELLE: Oh, really?
KRAMER: Oh, yeah. This takes twenty years off.
ESTELLE: And it was all done by laser. I don't even need bandages.
(As a car passes Kramer, someone yells out, "Yo, Assman! Look at the Assman!" Kramer waves).
ESTELLE: Did he say "Assman"?
KRAMER: Oh, yeah.
ESTELLE: Oh my goodness.
(Another car passes: "Hey, the Assman's in town!")
KRAMER: You got that straight!
ESTELLE: Boy. I never dreamed it could make such a difference.
(Kramer makes a sudden stop, and in a protective gesture, he sticks his arm out in front of Estelle.)
[Back to Jerry's apartment]
JERRY: You must have done *something* wrong. You probably screwed up the order. Did you close with the swirl?
GEORGE: Supposed to close with the swirl?
JERRY: Oh my god. Yes, you close with the swirl. There's a progression there. I told you to write it down.
GEORGE: Yeah, yeah, should've written it down.
(Bzzz. Jerry walks over to answer it)
JERRY: C'mon up. (turns to George) You know what? Do me a favor. Don't even do the move anymore. You're gonna give it a bad name.
(The phone rings)
JERRY: Hello? Yeah, this is Jerry Seinfeld. What? Twenty-eight hundred dollars?!! That's the estimate on my car?!! No, don't even do anything. I'm gonna think about it. Okay, bye.
GEORGE: What's to think about? If Putty says it's what it is, it's what it is. He's not gonna cheat you.
JERRY: Except that it's not Putty.
GEORGE: What happened to Putty?
JERRY: Eh, we had a little fight about the move. I took her to this other place. I think they might be trying to screw me.
GEORGE: Well, of course they're trying to screw you. What do you think? That's what they do. They can make up anything. Nobody knows. "By the way, you need a new Johnson rod in there." "Oh, a Johnson rod. Yeah, well, you better put one of those on."
(Elaine comes in looking a bit peeved)
JERRY: Hey, Elaine.
ELAINE: Yeah, yeah, hello.
JERRY: Is it something I said?
ELAINE: Yes! As a matter of fact! David Putty won't do the move anymore.
ELAINE: Oh, he's come up with some other move. You should see this thing.
JERRY: What is it?
ELAINE: Oh, it's a lot of just fancy-shmancy stuff. You know what it's like? It's like a big budget movie with a story that goes *nowhere*.
ELAINE: I mean, this move is no good, Jerry. It's just taking up a lot of my time. And I...will not stand by and allow him to perform this move on me, when a perfectly good move is just sitting in the barn doing nothing!
GEORGE: Let me ask you a question. This new move. Is there a knuckle involved in any way?
ELAINE: Yes. As a matter of fact, there is.
GEORGE: I think that's mine.
ELAINE: I'm not surprised.
JERRY: Listen. I need you to do me a favor. When's the next time you're gonna see him?
JERRY: You gotta get an estimate on my car from him. I think this garage is trying to screw me.
ELAINE: An estimate? How am I supposed to do that?
JERRY: Well, look. Here's the work order with everything that broke. Just kind of bring it up at the right time and find out. (hands Elaine the work order)
ELAINE: (takes the work order and points to the Fusilli Jerry sitting on the table) What? What is this?
JERRY: That's, uh, Fusilli Jerry.
ELAINE: Fusilli Jerry?
JERRY: Yeah. Kramer made it.
GEORGE: All right, listen, I'll see you guys later.
(As George is leaving, Kramer comes in with a female companion)
JERRY: Hey, Assman!
KRAMER: Hey, well, this is Sally.
KRAMER: Shall we go?
SALLY: Okay. (turns around and walks out with an exaggerated swing of her hips)
(Elaine, Jerry, and George make a face)
[Back at the Costanzas' house...]
ESTELLE: You can't face the fact that I'm improving myself.
FRANK: You're not the only one improving yourself. I worked out with a dumbbell yesterday. I feel *vigorous*.
ESTELLE: Just take your mail and go home. I have things to do.
FRANK: I got things to do, too.
ESTELLE: Don't upset me! I can't cry!
FRANK: Getting an eye job like some Manhattanite, huh?
ESTELLE: Well, it's already working. Kramer made a pass at me.
FRANK: Kramer made a pass at you? You're crazy.
ESTELLE: I'm not crazy. He stopped short and made a grab.
FRANK: He stopped short? That's my move. I'm gonna kill him!
[Once again, we join Elaine and David...in bed as usual...doing what they do best]
ELAINE: Hey, let me ask you a question.
ELAINE: What do you charge for blown shocks?
ELAINE: Two, three hundred?
DAVID: I don't know. Maybe five hundred.
(They go back to kissing)
ELAINE: What about a bad gasket?
DAVID: Bad gasket?
ELAINE: Yeah. Like a terrible gasket.
DAVID: What is all this?
ELAINE: Nothing, nothing. I'm just taking an interest in what you...do.
DAVID: What kind of car is it?
ELAINE: Oh...any kind of---of a Swedish car.
DAVID: All together, that could run about sixteen hundred.
ELAINE: Is that with the parts and labor?
ELAINE: Oh, no. No, David. No, please. Not the knuckle....
[Back to George and Nancy in bed. George is looking quite pleased with himself. Nancy, on the other hand, looks...bewildered...pleasantly surprised...]
NANCY: Wow. That was...*great*. I mean...*wow*.
GEORGE: It just came to me.
NANCY: I---I've never in my life have---have I---. What was that?
GEORGE: You mean in the end?
GEORGE: A counter-clockwise swirl.
(Spotting something on George's hand)
NANCY: What's that?
NANCY: On---on your hand? Let me see what's on your hand.
GEORGE: Nothing. I don't know...just a little dirt.
NANCY: Give me that. (grabs his hand) I wanna see what's on your hand.
(They struggle for a bit, but Nancy finally gets a hold of his hand and tries to make out the scribble)
NANCY: Number one. Take her leg.... Oh, my god! Crib notes? You've got crib notes?!!
GEORGE: It's a very complicated move! I couldn't remember it all.
NANCY: Oh, my god, you're sick. (gets out of bed)
GEORGE: You know, it's not the S.A.T.s!
[Cut to Frank on the streets. He spots Kramer's car. He looks inside the back window and sees the "Bro"---or is it the "Manssierre"? He checks out the plates]
FRANK: Assman? I'll get him, Assman!
(Back to Jerry's apartment)
JERRY: Sixteen hundred dollars? That's all? *Ooh*, they are ripping me off.
ELAINE: So what are you going to do?
JERRY: Well, that's it. I'm going back to Putty. No move is worth this.
ELAINE: Oh! You mean you don't care if he does the move anymore?
JERRY: Are you kidding? He can do every move I've ever done! Do you know what a good mechanic is worth? You can't compare that to sex.
(There's a knock at the door and Jerry goes over to answer it)
JERRY: Hi, Mr. Constanza. What's uh...?
FRANK: Where's your friend Kramer?
JERRY: I don't know. Why?
FRANK: Because I'm looking for him. That's why. He stopped short.
JERRY: What do you mean?
FRANK: In a car, with my wife. He stopped short. You think I don't know what that's about? That's my old move! I used it on Estelle forty years ago! I told everybody about it! Everybody knows! (Demonstrates) Hmmph! I stopped short.
JERRY: Really, stopping short. That's a good move.
FRANK: You're not kidding it's a good move!
(Kramer walks in.)
KRAMER: Hey, Frank.
FRANK: Don't Frank me! I know what you did. How dare you stop short with my wife!
KRAMER: C'mon, Frank, relax. I don't even know what you're talking about.
(Frank backs Kramer into the table, knocking the Fusilli Jerry to the floor)
FRANK: You think I don't know, Assman?!! To think I almost split the profits on the Manssierre with you.
FRANK: Manssierre! You...!
(Frank grabs Kramer by the collar and in doing so, he slips and falls right on top of the Fusilli Jerry)
JERRY: Oh, my god!
(Everyone gasps in horror, including George, who was just walking in at that very moment)
[At the medical center, the gang is in the waiting room, waiting for the word on Frank's condition. Looks like they're still in shock
JERRY: If I wasn't there, I wouldn't have believed it.
ELAINE: Me either.
GEORGE: They say this guy's the best.
JERRY: He had to use cork-screw pasta.
(At that thought, Jerry, George, and Elaine shift uncomfortably in their seats. Meanwhile, Kramer is checking out the pictures on the wall. He spots something...)
KRAMER: Jerry. Jerry, come here. Take a look at this.
(Jerry joins him)
KRAMER: The name on the boat. Look at it.
KRAMER: Yeah (points towards the doctor's office), he's the Assman! Jerry, *he's* the Assman!
(The doctor walks in)
DOCTOR: Which one is the son?
GEORGE: (stands up) I am.
DOCTOR: Ah. I'm Doctor Cooperman. I just want you to know that this won't take long. And he's going to be fine.
(Kramer stops Dr. Cooperman at the door.)
KRAMER: Yeah, excuse me, uh... You didn't by any chance recently get the wrong license plates?
DR. COOPERMAN: Yes. I'm still waiting for the motor vehicle bureau to straighten it out.
KRAMER: So...you're the Assman.
(Dr. Cooperman winks and heads back to where Frank is waiting)
FRANK: It was a million to one shot, Doc. Million to one.
[Back at the Costanza's house, George and Frank are just walking in]
ESTELLE: Where have you been?!! You were supposed to fix the stove! I've been waiting for hours!
FRANK: I fell on some Fusilli.
FRANK: You know, the corkscrew pasta. It was a Fusilli Jerry. It got stuck in me. Had to go to the proctologist.
ESTELLE: The proctologist? Are you okay?
ESTELLE: Oh, I was so worried. (grabs a couple of tissues from the box)
GEORGE: Ma, don't cry!
ESTELLE: Oh, I can't help it!
GEORGE: Ma, your eyes!