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- And we have Theresa on the line.

- The day will come for you, Barry. And there will be a reckoning, an adding up and a totaling. Those who turned away will be turned upon. And I don't care what your story is, Barry. You are responsible, and there will be no confusion at your trial. It will be short, and necks will crack. The whips will strip your back bare to the bone, and your children will cry for you... as they are slaughtered before your eyes. You... The Jews will hang high over the streets. You will be buried in piles. You dig your own holes. I am here merely to tell you that the day will come. It will.

- Believe it or not, you make perfect sense to me. I should hang. I'm a hypocrite. I ask for sincerity, and I lie. I denounce the system as I embrace it. I want money and power and prestige. I want ratings and success. I don't give a damn about you or the world. That's the truth. For this, I could say I'm sorry, but I won't. Why should I? I mean, who the hell are you anyways, you audience? You're on me every night like a pack of wolves,'cause you can't stand facing what you are and what you've made. Yes, the world is a terrible place. Yes, cancer and garbage disposals will get you. Yes, a war is coming. Yes, the world is shot to hell, and you're all goners. Everything's screwed up, and you like it that way, don't you? You're fascinated by the gory details. You're mesmerized by your own fear. You revel in floods, car accidents. Unstoppable diseases. You're happiest when others are in pain. That's where I come in, isn't it? I'm here to lead you by the hands through the dark forest... of your own hatred and anger and humiliation. I'm providing a public service. You're so scared. You're like a little child under the covers. You're afraid of the bogeyman, but you can't live without him. Your fear, your own lives, have become your entertainment. Next month, millions of people are gonna be listening to this show, and you'll have nothing to talk about! Marvelous technology is at our disposal. Instead of reaching up to new heights, we're gonna see how far down we can go. How deep into the muck we can immerse ourselves. What do you wanna talk about, hmm? Baseball scores? Your pet? Orgasms? You're pathetic. I despise each and every one of you. You got nothing, absolutely nothing. No brains, no power, no future. No hope. No God. The only thing you believe in is me. What are you if you don't have me? I'm not afraid, see? I come in every night, make my case, make my point, say what I believe in! I tell you what you are. I have to. I have no choice. You frighten me. I come here every night, tear into you, I abuse you, I insult you, and you just keep coming back for more. What's wrong with you? Why do you keep calling? I don't wanna hear it anymore. Stop talking! Go away! You're a bunch of yellow-bellied, spineless, bigoted, quivering, drunken, insomniatic, paranoid, disgusting, perverted, voyeuristic, little obscene phone callers. That's what you are. Well, to hell with you. I don't need your fear and your stupidity. You don't get it. It's wasted on you. Burros before swine. If one person out there had any idea... of what I'm talking about... Fred, you're on Night Talk.

- Yes. You see, Barry, I know it's depressing that so many people don't understand you're just joking.

- Jackie, you're on Night Talk.

- Hello. I've been listening for years, and I find you a warm and intelligent...

- Arnold.

- What you were saying before about loneliness, I'm an electrical engineer...

- Lucy.

- My mother is from Waco and wants to know if you went to high school...

- Larry.

- Why do people insist on calling homosexuals normal?

- Ralph!

- I'm in my house. I'm at home, which is where you should be, Barry. Hey, I'm not far away. You could come over if you want. We're the same kind of people. I have beer, soup. I'm here. Come over later. I'll wait.

Silence. Barry cries.

- Barry, there's 60 seconds left in the show. This is dead air, Barry. Dead air.

- I guess we're stuck with each other. This is Barry Champlaign.

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