(9 of 10)
Fourth Writer: "Well, that's the way the horse flies."
Seventh Writer: "That's the way the Spanish flies,"
Second Writer: "Oooh, this is the way we're supposed to beat Lucy?"
Apparently, yes. As the script takes shape, Wiles and Schlatter begin to toss out soft comedy lines and beef up others. Soon the final draft—having grown to 235 pages, or about three times as large as the customary script for a one-hour comedy show—is ready. The cast gathers around a table in the studio for a read-through. After two days of casual rehearsal, they head for the stage for two twelve-hour days of taping. The only audience present consists of staffers, office boys, secretaries, members of families. The laughter on the show is canned and carefully metered out to exploit each line.
In the party atmosphere that pervades the set, new ideas are constantly added as the show moves from printed script to video tape. Jokes and ideas for skits are solicited from the nonwriting staff and anyone else who happens by. The twelve-year-old daughter of a production consultant, for example, specializes in graffiti (her latest contribution: LASSIE KILLS CHICKENS). On taping days, the writers are everywhere, feeding lines on the set, in the halls, dressing rooms, offices and wardrobe department. Periodically, the cast members try out impromptu bits on one another, often walk before the camera and say the first thing that comes into their heads. Recalls Sammy Davis: "I was looking forward to appearing on the show. Joey Bishop was going to be on, too. But when we went into rehearsal, I was handed the fattest script I have ever seen in my entire life. It was about four inches thick, and I said, 'I didn't come here to do Gone With The Wind.' They said, 'Don't worry, do what you like. You can ad lib and come back to the script whenever you like'—and I did." So did Bishop.
The cameo tapings are made with an eye for economy as well as variety. The average Laugh-In show costs $170,000 to produce. To save money, each cameo guest is given perhaps dozens of one-liners to recite. Those gags that are not used on one show are preserved on tape, along with an assortment of skits and acts, for use in future shows; they are numbered and filed in a "joke bank" under such headings as "Joke Wall" or "Cocktail Party."
Producer Schlatter, who is in charge of these tapings, also acts as referee and muse. Burly, bearded, he sits atop a tall stool in the studio, juggling phones, flipping through scripts, arguing with the censor and, occasionally, pinching the behind of any girl who is careless enough to stray within range.
Another temptation Schlatter & Co. are unable to resist is the chance to cash in on a pile of merchandising arrangements. A new Laugh-In magazine is selling at the rate of 300,000 a month. The first Laugh-In record album has sold 125,000 copies in three weeks. A rather third-rate Laugh-In comic strip is running in 60 newspapers. Soon there will be Laugh-In jogging outfits, Laugh-In water pistols, Laugh-In graffiti wallpaper and Laugh-In fortune cookies.
All this, in addition to