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BEGIN TRANSMISSION

(Opening theme & titles)

Tansut (T):

Hi there, this is Tansut, welcoming you to another sparkling episode of Space Ghost Coast to Coast! Tonight, strange British man Robin Leach, author Merrill Markoe, and British pop sensation Bananarama. And now, put your hands up to your face, and scream like a girl! (in high voice) It's Space Ghost!

Space Ghost (SG):

(invisos in) Greetings, y'all! I'm Space Ghost! Welcome to my incredibly entertaining comedy-style interview program, where anything can happen, and usually does. (band intro music) On tonight's big crazy-time joke show, legendary chronicler of high-livin' lifestyles Robin Leach, comedic author Merrill Markoe, and musical guest Bananarama, along with the usual gang of idiots, Zorak:

Zorak (Z):

Blah-diddy blah blah...

SG:

And Moltar.

Moltar (M):

Blah-diddy blah.

Z:

Blah-diddy blah blah...

M:

Blah-diddy blah.

Z:

Blah-diddy blah blah...

SG:

Stop it!

M:

(quietly) Blah-diddy blah.

SG:

(invisos to desk) Please welcome an old old old old old friend of mine, host of "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous", Robin Leach!

Robin Leach (RL):

(monitor lowers from ceiling) Spooky champagne wishes, and mysterious caviar dreams?

SG:

It's a great pleasure to have you hear, Robin.

RL:

I'm delighted, privileged, honoured. (image breaks up on monitor, with audio static)

SG:

Uh, Robin? Moltar! Wake up back there, we're losing Robin!

M:

(reading book, laughs)

SG:

Moltar? Moltar!

M:

Whoops! (throws lever, image returns to normal)

SG:

Uh, what happened, Moltar?

M:

I musta hit it with my knee or somethin'.

SG:

Well, try to be more careful in the future...

M:

Just get off my back, man!

SG:

(pause) Alrighty! I'm here with Robin Leach! Thank you for joining us, Robin.

RL:

Space Ghost, thank you. May your nights be happy and long. But please take that cloak to the cleaners, will you? It's getting a little grey.

SG:

Oh-kay. (flies off) (bounds back instantly) Heh, forgot my wallet. (flies off again)

RL:

(looks annoyed)

(Space Ghost bounds back, wearing strange clothes)

SG:

The cleaners were closed, but I found this nice blouse in the gutter, and I have fashioned a hat out of a fry box.

RL:

You need, um, you know, a tailored, more tailored look to yourself.

SG:

Are you suggesting a prosthetic abdominal augmentation enhancer?

RL:

Now you're talking, y'see?

SG:

Y'know, Robin, you should do a show on me.

RL:

Really. I wonder why...

SG:

Because I have a lot of class. Just the other day, in fact, I went out and got myself a blender. It lets me blend.. just about anything!

Z:

Beat!

SG:

Classy people are always blending stuff.

Z:

Beat!

SG:

Now, I too can blend.

Z:

(sips his coffee) Beat!

SG:

It would be a good show! You think about it. (band plays a riff)

RL:

Yes, Space Ghost.

SG:

Now Robin, all seriousness aside, congratulations on the incredible success of your show, you must be very proud.

RL:

Back in 1982-83, when we started this, uh, extraordinary show of looking at, uh, the richest people in the world, the most famous people in the world, everybody said we were nuts, we were crazy, we should be carted off and thrown away, um, by the men in the little white coats..

SG:

Uh huh.

RL:

.. You probably know a few of the little men in the white coats, don't you?

SG:

Um, uh, no. I .. don't .. know .. any .. little .. white .. men.

Z:

Yeah, you do, Space Ghost. You remember the nice men at the clinic.

SG:

(distraught) I'm not going back there, Zorak!

Z:

(stares back)

RL:

Okay, secretive. Secretive Space Ghost...

SG:

Citizen Robin, do the rich and famous require more oxygen than the average citizen?

RL:

They require more of everything, they require more caviar, more champagne, and more gas...

SG:

And more cheese!

RL:

What they would do to get the secrets of your safe flight...

SG:

Would they take me to fancy places?

RL:

... and the speed of your flight, they would pay you millions of dollars!

SG:

Millions of dollars?

RL:

In fact, there's a couple of multi-billionaires who've authorised me to try and slide some money under the table for you, to reveal your secrets to me.

SG:

Power bands!

RL:

Power bands. It begs the question, what is a power band?

SG:

These things right here! They're for killin' villains! (does power band moves)

RL:

Really. That's a little violent, isn't it, in this day and age when we should be seeking to get along with each other?

SG:

Yeah, well, me and Zorak get along pretty well. Don't we, Zorak? (shot of bandshell, sans Zorak) Where's Zorak?

Sorcerer (S):

He's not here, Chief.

SG:

Where is he?

S:

Eating musical guests Bananarama. (girls' screams in background) Hey, save some for me, daddy-o!

SG:

Robin, I have to apologize for the actions of my bandleader. He's quite a pill.

RL:

Well, I'd just get rid of him. I mean, I wouldn't, I'd just lay down the mantris killer, just...

SG:

(writing) Yes, lay, lay down the mantis killer, hmm mmm, yes...

RL:

You just pour powder around him in a circle, bring in the witches, and...

SG:

(still writing) Witches, good.

RL:

And poof, the magic dragon, gone. Just, just issue the threat.

SG:

Ya hear that, Zorak? Puff, the magic dragon!

Z:

I got your magic dragon, right here! See?

(Magic dragon stands next to Zorak's keyboard pod)

SG:

Well, hello there, magic dragon!

M:

(watching "Skat Sandwich" video on control room monitor, with Space Ghost at his C2C desk dubbed in) What is this garbage? And why am I not in it?

RL:

Where's the, uh, where's the wine and champagne offer?

SG:

Excuse me?

RL:

Where do you keep it?

SG:

Didn't you get the Vienna Sausage tray? That was for you!

RL:

This is it?

SG:

Uh, we had a little problem with the fridge, so...

RL:

I'm not interested in your problems, I'm interested in my stomach!

SG:

Uh, look, Robin, we'll be finished up here in just a few minutes, and then we can all go out to dinner.

RL:

I've been kept too long as it is. Now, where's the paycheque, Space Ghost?

SG:

Er, the paycheck?

RL:

You haven't been very gracious to me.

SG:

Now you listen to me, buddy boy! (pause)

RL:

Surely Space Ghost is not stuck for words!

SG:

Just gimme a second! Okay, I've got it. (ahem!) Now you listen to me, buddy boy...

RL:

Your talent booking department booked the wrong guest. (laughs)

SG:

How do you mean?

RL:

I am, in fact, Zoltran, and I have been kidding you all along.

SG:

(gasps)

RL:

I have taken the identity of Robin Leach to fool you, Space Ghost.

SG:

(gasps)

RL:

And you have worked into my evil ugly trap.

SG:

(gasps)

RL:

And now, in very quick order, I will raise my arms, cover myself, in black magic, and you are history!

(Robin's skin turns green, rays shoot out of his eyes at Space Ghost)

SG:

(gibbers)

Z:

(laughs)

M:

(laughs) Eh, that's funny! (Zoltran is on control room monitor, eyes no longer blasting Space Ghost)

SG:

Well, it looks like the "eyes" have it, but not for long, Zoltran! (Zoltran disappears from studio monitor, and is replaced by a test pattern) Moltar, what're you doin', I was about to blast Zoltran!

M:

I couldn't let that happen. He's my... brother-in-law. (dramatic sting music)

INTERRUPT TRANSMISSION

RESUME TRANSMISSION

M:

Merrill Markoe is ready.

SG:

Merrill Markoe? Or Zoltran? (dramatic sting music)

M:

I'm really sorry about that. Linda, she's...

SG:

Listen, Moltar, we can't have our guests being possessed by your freeloading brother-in-law.

M:

I know, I know, but I promised my wife that...

SG:

I don't care what you promised, we obviously need to tighten security around here, because that is not gonna happen again!

M:

(throws lever, brings up Merrill on control room monitor)

Merrill Markoe (MM):

Wow, I'm in a satellite!

SG:

(studio monitor lowers from ceiling with Merrill) Halt, citizen!

MM:

Citizen?

SG:

Identify yourself!

MM:

Is that, by citizen, do you mean me?

SG:

Identify yourself!

MM:

Oh, I thought you booked me.

SG:

(sarcastic) Maybe I did.

MM:

You don't know who I am?

SG:

(sarcastic) Refresh my memory.

MM:

(laughs) Refresh your memory... oh, great. (deep breath) Uh, Merrill Markoe is my name. And who are you?

SG:

I'm askin' the questions here!

MM:

Oh!

SG:

Do you have proper identification?

MM:

Ah, yes, I certainly do.

SG:

Well, let's see it!

MM:

(sighs) Getting carded! This happens to me on every one of these talk shows. (digs through her purse)

SG:

(impatient) Come on, come on, snap it up!

MM:

(pulls out picture ID, holds it up so Space Ghost can see)

SG:

(reading ID) Merrill Markoe... Okay, everything seems to check out. You can carry on.

MM:

(puts ID away) Now, do you always wear that, that hat?

SG:

It's not a hat.

MM:

I can't see you.

SG:

It's a cowl.

MM:

It's a who? A towel?

SG:

Not a towel, a cowl. With a C.

MM:

Oh. Well, why don't you take it off, I can't see your eyes.

SG:

But it hides my secret identity.

MM:

Oh, well, who cares what your secret identity is?

SG:

Well, me, for one.

MM:

What are you protecting? What are you afraid of, Space Ghost?

SG:

My personal life is very private and personal to me.

MM:

Well then, what are you doing on television?

SG:

(laughs) You know, Merrill, this interview should be more about you. Are you getting enough oxygen?

MM:

No, I don't have a problem with that. Now, explain to me, where are you?

SG:

I'm... over here.

Z:

No, she means 'in space', stupid.

MM:

Like where, like relative to, say, Uranus, and Mars, would it be like to the left, the right, what?

SG:

Ohhhhh... Over here, Merrill.

MM:

I don't think you have any idea where you are, or do you?

SG:

I sure do!

MM:

You're asking me who I am, and you're asking me for information, and you have no idea where you are!

SG:

Uh, um...

MM:

What kind of host are you?

RL:

(in control room, talking to Moltar, still green, as Zoltran) Did it work?

M:

Oh yeah, Zoltran, it worked alright. I lost my parking space because of you, you jerk!

RL:

You run the show, so you have ultimate power.

M:

No, see, that's what Linda tells you! Do me a favor, and give me a call before you just decide to possess the body of one of our guests.

RL:

How do I get back, from here?

M:

What, you gotta broken leg? Walk!

MM:

You don't, you don't breathe oxygen?

SG:

For the last time, no.

MM:

What exactly do you breathe?

SG:

Um, air.

MM:

You breathe air. It doesn't have oxygen in it?

SG:

(flustered) Sure, it has.. oxygen in it.

MM:

I don't think you have any idea what you're talkin' about, do you?

SG:

Just don't fluster me! You've got me all flustered!

Z:

Fluster him! Fluster him good!

MM:

Well, how old are you?

Z:

Good one!

SG:

Ohhh... Thirty.

MM:

Well, wait a minute now, wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute. Wait a minute, wait a minute. Space Ghost, you're thirty?

SG:

Uh huh.

MM:

I thought you were a superhero in the sixties.

SG:

I was.

Z:

He was.

MM:

You were a superhero when you were born? Just, like as an infant, you were a superhero?

SG:

Exactly.

Z:

Right!

MM:

You couldn't have been a superhero, if you were a superhero in the sixties, you'd have to be pushing fifty.

Z:

At least!

SG:

Well, (laughs) I'm not a math teacher.

MM:

You don't know the background, do you? You just don't know your own background.

Z:

(laughs in background)

SG:

I am thirty years old.

MM:

You're not thirty.

SG:

I am thirty years old.

MM:

You're closer to fifty, aren't you, Space Ghost? You're not thirty.

Puff (P):

Whoa, you're fifty?

Z:

What, me?

SG:

Magic dragon, I'm gonna come over there and nail your magic feet to the floor!

MM:

Well, for a guy pushing fifty, I guess that's about as best as you can do.

SG:

(sighs) Moltar.

M:

(throws lever, starts credits rolling)

MM:

Are you actually a ghost?

SG:

Of course I am. I'm Space Ghost.

MM:

So does that mean you're deceased?

SG:

I, uh... yeah.

MM:

Do a lot of deceased people go into the talk show host kind of a field?

SG:

You know what? I'm not deceased.

MM:

Alright, alright. Well, let's move on to something you can answer.

(Credits roll)

(Band intro note)

("Ow!")

© 1997 Cartoon Network, Inc. All rights reserved.
Animated Characters TM & © 1966 Hanna Barbera Productions, Inc.
All Rights reserved.

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