We Don't Mess Around

BAVARIAN TELEVISION
AND
INTERCONTINENTAL
ABSURDITIES
PRESENT

FZ: All right, we're on the air.
?: Wait a minute.
Tommy Mars: Frank, is it [lit]?
Ike: Whose air? Brown hair.

ZAPPA

WE DON'T
MESS
AROUND

Kaufhaus HERTIE, Schwabing
Sommer 1978

FZ: No poodle? That's really stupid . . . Now, some of this toys are quite exceptional, but this toy is really stupid looking. Let's make him rock.

FZ: Hi, folks. Bring the band on down behind me, boys. This is the sensitive part of our television program here. Also the sensitive part of the movie that we're making from the remnants of the television show. This is the part where I get to introduce the members of our rockin' teen-age combo this year. Here we have, for a second semester, Ed Mann on percussion. Peter Wolf on keyboards, and AKG promotion. Denny Walley, back with us once again from the Bongo Fury days, on guitar, slide and vocals. And the dynamic Ike Willis on fake guitar, knitted cap, and [...]. The most peculiar Tommy Mars on keyboards, welding goggles, and maybe just a little too much hair on his chest, but he can't help it because he's Italian. And over here, from Texas, Arthur Barrow on bass, formerly with Don Preston's rockin' teen-age combo. And last, but not least, Vince Colaiuta on drums, and dynamic seal call . . . How 'bout a couple more? . . . A little bit more . . . That's very good. Okay, we're gonna go into a song now, this is purely for entertainment purposes now, ladies and gentlemen. The name of this song is "Dancin' Fool."

FZ: Do the last "meat" again.

Meat.

FZ: Again! Again.

Meat.

FZ: Again!

Meat.

Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me

He was the Playboy Type (he smoked a pipe)
His fav'rite phrase was "OUTA-SITE!"
He had an Irish Setter
(Hrtch-a-pltch
Hrtch-a-pltch
Hrtch-a-pltch
Arf!)

It was a singles bar, a Tuesday night
The moon was dim, the band was tight
They did the Bump together

What a splendid sight
Her teeth were white
The drinks were cheap (it was Ladies Nite)
He was glad that he met her

She was an office girl (her name was Betty)
Her fav'rite group was HELEN REDDY
(They discussed the weather)

Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a
Man!

She was a lonely sort, just a little too short
Her jokes were dumb and her fav'rite sport
Was hockey (in the winter)
(. . . He shoot . . . he scores!)

He was duly impressed and was quick to suggest
Any sport with a PUCK had to be 'bout the best
As he jabbed his elbow in her (get it honey? Get it?)

Later on they went off to where the music was soft,
The candles were drippy, they saw a REAL HIPPY
Who delivered their dinner

The rice was brown, and soon they found
That the crowd around that had jammed the room,
Well it seemed to be getting thinner

Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a
Man!

He took her home to a motor court
She wouldn't kiss him, he tried to ignore it,
But it made him angry!
(Angry! It made me angry!
Why it made me so angry
I COULD HAVE KILLED THAT LOUSY BITCH!)

He called her a slut
(Slut slut slut . . . )
A pig
(Pig pig pig . . . )
And a whore
(Whore whore whore . . . )
A bitch
(Bitch bitch bitch . . . )
And a cunt
(Cunt cunt cunt . . . )
And she slammed the door
(The door!)
In a petulant frenzy!
(A petulant frenzy!
This is a petulant
Frenzy!
I'm petulant,
And I'm having a frenzy!)

On the sofa she weeps
BOO HOO HOO HOO
She weeps and she weeps
BOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO
She weeps and she peeps
Through the curtain

He just got in his car
But the battery's dead
So he has to use the phone
And she gives him some head
And that's the end of the story

Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a man like me
Honey honey, hey
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a
Baby don't you want a
Man!
Baby don't you want a man sometimes?

Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Roll it over 'n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town

Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Roll it over 'n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town

Hey, you good women, you sure has it tough
Of the good men, well there just ain't enough
All the good girls are lookin' all the time
Good men is something that they can't find
'Cause if they find one miraculously
They try to be lovin' as they can be
'Cause if they find one and they let him go
Chances are they might not never find one no mo'

Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Roll it over 'n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town

A good lovin' man is hardest to find
A good woman needs to ease her mind
I know a few that need to ease it behind
All y'gotta do is grease it down
'N everything is fine

Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Roll it over 'n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town

A girl don't need
No fancy grease
To get herself
Some rump release
Any kind
Of lube'll do
Maybe from another
Part of you
Lube from the North
Lube from the South
Take a little slobber
From the side of your mouth
Roll it over
Grease it down
Here come that crazy
Screamin' sound . . .

Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Roll it over 'n grease it down, down, down
Grease it down . . .
I grease it down!

FZ: Sure, look at this place! No, no . . . like cars or . . . Oh, wait a minute. A fine American product. Next to Coca-Cola this is probably the best of what the United States has to offer. Not much.

FZ: You're looking at me? You've got a good picture of me up there? Alright. This is the story of this song. Don't play. The story of this song— The name of this song is "Why does it hurt when I pee?" And what happened was, we were on the bus the other day, and our road manager, Phil Kaufman, who I'm sure you'll meet later, had to go to the toilet on the bus. And so first he said, "Excuse me, I'm gonna go vote." And then he walked into the toilet in the back. And he was in there for a couple of minutes, and the next thing you hear is this horrible scream coming out of the toilet. And then he comes out of the toilet and he says, "Why does it hurt when I pee?"

Now, this is the kind of thing that our songs are made out of— little incidents, little slices of everyday life that turn into really great musical masterpieces. The style of this song—The way the arrangement for a song is determined has something to do with the type of words that are in the song. The type of words that are in this song are really stupid, so therefore we have a really stupid arrangement. And the basic style of the arrangement is pseudo-English pomposity with fake drama thrown in on the side, smothered in Tico-Tico. So we will now give you the world premiere of "Why does it hurt when I pee?"

FZ: One, two, three.

Why does it hurt when I pee?
Why does it hurt when I pee?
I don't want no doctor
To stick no needle in me
Why does it hurt when I pee?
I've got it from the toilet seat
I've got it from the toilet seat
It jumped right up
'N grabbed my meat
I've got it from the toilet seat

My balls feel like a pair of maracas
My balls feel like a pair of maracas
I must be got the
Gon-o-ka-ka-khackus!
My balls feel like a pair of maracas

FZ: Hey. I would like to offer my apologies to the German people for the song that we're gonna do now, because, well, let me put it to you bluntly, folks, my pronunciation really sucks, and the text, the translation that we're using on this text, is a little bit on the twee side. I don't know whether you're gonna be able to get the true drift of this hot little number, but we're gonna try and deliver it to you anyway because our intentions are really good. I mean, we really wanna do a wonderful job here in the Fatherland, and so, let's go with a hot little number called "Sofa #2." A-one, a-two, a-three.

I am the heaven
I am the water
Ich bin der Dreck unter deinen Walzen
([...])
Ich bin dein geheimer Schmutz
Und verlorenes Metallgeld
(Metallgeld)
Ich bin deine Ritze
Ich bin deine Ritze und Schlitze

I am the clouds
I am embroidered
Ich bin der Autor aller Felgen
Und Damast-Paspeln
Ich bin der Chrome Dinette
Ich bin der Chrome Dinette
Ich bin Eier aller Arten
(That's right, eggs of all persuasions)

Ich bin alle Tage und Nächte
Ich bin alle Tage und Nächte

Ich bin hier (AIEE-AH!)
Und du bist mein Sofa
Ich bin hier (AIEE-AH!)
Und du bist mein Sofa
Ich bin hier (AIEE-AH!)
Und du bist mein Sofa

Yeah-ha-ha-ay
Yah-ha
Yeah, my Sofa
Yeah-ha-hey

Eddie, are you kidding me?
Eddie, are you kidding me?
Eddie, are you kidding me?

John Smothers: . . . put your hands through there.
FZ: You know, the important thing about this instrument is the way the air smells when it comes out of these holes . . . It has something to do with the glue that's holding it together. Let's just let the people at home take a whiff of this accordion . . .

FZ: Do some with seal calls interrupted by the small percussion. The little cheap cymbal, the bongos, and all that stuff. Like a solo based on seal calls and tiny percussion. Okay?

(Arf, arf, arf . . . . etc.)
FZ: THIS is cheap. This is really cheap, watch this;
(arf, arf, arf . . . . etc.)
FZ: How 'bout, how about a disco seal call solo?
(arf, arf, arf . . . . etc.)
FZ: Ok, Ok now a waltz seal call solo . . . from-from Bavaria.
(arf, arf, arf . . . . etc.)
Vinnie: Yeah, Frankie, y'know,
FZ: Yeah, Vinnie?
Vinnie: These things just crack me up, y'know?
FZ: I know it, Vinnie, I'm tellin' ya. How would you like to have a little accordion with that?
Vinnie: Oh! Tommy!
FZ: Tommy, Tommy, you think you could give him a little accordion with these seal calls?
Vinnie: Where are you anyway?
FZ: "Seal Call Fusion Music." It's a Penderecki number.
(aaarooof!)
Tommy: Do you mean it, Vinnie? Vin? I really wanna . . . knooww. Y'know, I've been really put on by a lot of penguins 'n seals when its' icyyyy! Actually, cryogenics is expanding—Day by day
FZ: Day by day, I'm fallin' more in love with you, an' day by . . . you're just like a penguin in bondage, boy.
(arf, arf, arf . . . . etc.)
Tommy: Oh, oh, ah, ah, you're gettin' me hotter, Vinnie, hotter! I wanna get colder!
FZ: Mauricio Kagel, eat yer heart out!

FZ: You know, folks, the world of rock has gotten entirely too fuckin' preposterous in the last couple of years. I mean, it's really getting disgusting the things that you can actually do on a stage just because you have a drum set, an electric guitar, an accordion, and some bells and a, and a guy who— of Italian descent who sounds like a seal when he becomes erotized. I mean, is this really music? Is this really art? Is this worth your time and energy? Hey, the answers of these and many more exciting questions lie ahead. Meanwhile, it's back to Antarctica where it's . . .

Hey there, people, I'm Bobby Brown
They say I'm the cutest boy in town
My car is fast, my teeth is shiney
I tell all the girls they can kiss my heinie
Here I am at a famous school
I'm dressin' sharp 'n I'm
Actin' cool
I got a cheerleader here wants to help with my paper
Let her do all the work 'n maybe later I'll rape her

Oh God I am the American dream
I do not think I'm too extreme
An' I'm a handsome sonofabitch
I'm gonna get a good job 'n be real rich

Women's Liberation
Came creepin' all across the nation
I tell you people, I was not ready
When I fucked this dyke by the name of Freddie
She made a little speech then,
Aw, she tried to make me say when
She had my balls in a vice, but she left the dick
I guess it's still hooked on, but now it shoots too quick

Oh God I am the American dream
But now I smell like Vaseline
An' I'm a miserable sonofabitch
Am I a boy or a lady . . . I don't know which
(I wonder wonder, wonder wonder)

So I went out 'n bought me a leisure suit
I jingle my change, but I'm still kinda cute
Got a job doin' radio promo
An' none of the jocks can even tell I'm a homo
Eventually me 'n a friend
Sorta of drifted along into S&M
I can take about an hour on the tower of power
'Long as I gets a little golden shower

Oh God I am the American dream
With a spindle up my butt till it makes me scream
An' I'll do anything to get ahead
I lay awake nights sayin', "Thank you, Fred!"
Oh God, Oh God, I'm so fantastic!
Thanks to Freddie, I'm a sexual spastic
And my name is Bobby Brown
Watch me now; I'm goin' down,
And my name is Bobby Brown
Watch me now; I'm goin' down,
And my name is Bobby Brown
Watch me now . . . because the name of this song is "Conehead."

Conehead . . . she ain't really dumb
She's just a
Conehead . . . 'tater chip crumbs
All over her face
Is there any more beer
Stashed away at her place? She's just a
Conehead . . . she can't help herself
A Conehead
Pitch her a ring
That is the thing
That's getting her hot-uh
A hoop or a ring
Goin' over the top of her Conehead
"She is from a small town in France"
A Cone-a-head
That's what she gives me is-uh
Conehead
When she's on her knees
The point is so high
(High!)
I keep sayin' please
Keep it out of my eye, she's a
Conehead
That's right!

Remulak, Remulak, Remulak
I'm coming back
Remulak, Remulak, Remulak

Remulak, Remulak, Remulak
I'm coming back
Remulak, Remulak, Remulak

John: Hey, how you doin? Yeah!

Interviewer: Fine, how are you?

John: Fine.

Interviewer: Uh, John, what's your profession in the band with Frank Zappa?

John: I'm a professional bodyguard, I take care of Frank. I make sure nobody touches him, everybody stays in line, make sure they get on the plane right, walk behind the road manager, make sure he does every damn thing right, cuz he costs (?) all the time.

Interviewer: How you are skilled? For that profession?

John: How was I done what?

Interviewer: Skilled?

John: Well, I took care of majors and generals and the paratroopers, and when I got out the service I didn't know nothin' to do. So I bought a
couple limousines, and got in the bodyguard business.

Interviewer: Um, you are together with the band. What do you know about the band?

John: Well, I've seen seven different bands go on around here. Seven different bands. From George Duke down to Flo & Eddie, and this band he's got now is more crazy than the last band. The last band we had, we had— we had six puppies. In this band we got three of the puppies raised to be dogs, now I got three little poodles in place of 'em! The drummer's a poodle, the guitar player's a poodle, and that guy from St. Louis, he's a poodle. It takes 'em a whole year to grow up to be a full-grown dog.

Interviewer: Who's the complicatedest guy in the band?

John: The confiscated guy is that damn drummer with the weird beard on his face. Man, he ain't wrapped tight, he's got some cards missin' out his deck. Know how you take a deck of cards, you take the joker and the deuce out? Well, his aces will beat a— beat the four— the two jokers and the four deuces any time. He is really weird, way out there. Walks around the hotel, beat on all the goddamn walls and all that shit, scarrin' the walls up. Not knowin' Frank gotta pay for all that shit.

Interviewer: How you get them together?

John: How do I get 'em together? I just tell 'em, "C'mon, hormones, all y'all get your, yeah let's get on the damn bus. It's time to leave." And you just gotta run behind 'em, watch 'em. They're always doin' weird shit.

Interviewer: What's the truth about Frank Zappa?

John: What's the truth about Frank? Frank is a hell of a musician. When I first started workin' for him, I was brought in for one week. And I told his last road manager, I said, "That son of a bitch is crazy, gimme my plane ticket, let me go home." And then he took a five piece band, and he started playin' symphony music, and that got me hooked, 'cuz I like classical music. That hooked me on the band. He's one of the best guys I done worked for. I done worked for the Rolling Stones, The Beatles, The Beach Boys, Elvis, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sister Soul, Temptations, I done worked for them all in the last 22 years. Frank is about the be— about the best one.

Interviewer: Does he have connections to a foreign power, or connections to ze mafia?

John: No, no way. No way. He don't go near politics or crime or drugs, he stays away from that shit. He won't even take a pill when he got a toothache. He just drink that goddamn black coffee.

Interviewer: What's the difficultest thing to do with him?

John: The difficult thing to do with him is walk behind him once he gets off the plane.

Interviewer: Why?

John: That fucker walks like a goddamn roller coaster— you ever seen a roller coaster in the United States? That's the way he walks when he get
off that damn plane. An' you gotta really keep up behind him, I stay on my toes all the time in the airport.

Interviewer: What about girls and Frank?

John: Girls? Oh, girls you gotta keep away. They like to pull on his hair, play with his mustache. An' I don't think it's a good image for the girls to be pullin' on him. He might get hurt, and if he get hurt he can't make the music, can't play the band. He's got twenty people depend on him, plus
about eight, home and office. Plus he's got three kids depend on him. So if he gets hurt from the girls pullin' on him, everybody's out of a job. I have a job to go back to, but the band don't, and the crew don't.

Interviewer: How you get the girls off from him.

John: I just looks at 'em very hard.

Interviewer: Well, look like what?

John: I just look . . . "Away! Raus! Raus!"

FZ: Alright, hey, you wanna go, you wanna go all the way . . . Listen, ladies and gentlemen, we're gonna perform a number. This number hasn't been performed since actually 1968. This piece is ten years old and we're gonna give it its 10th anniversary performance, right here at the Circus Krone. Now, the last time this piece was performed was at the Fillmore East, by the old Mothers Of Invention. Now, the name of this piece is "Dead Air."

FZ: You know, lot of times people come up to me, specially when I go through customs, and they, they look at me and they say, uh, "What are you ON?" You know, they look deep into my eyes and they go, "Come on, now, tell us now, Frank, what are you ON?" 'An I just look back at 'em and I say, "I AM ON DUTY."

On duty.
On duty.
On duty.
I'm on duty.
I'm on duty.
I'm on duty.
I'm duty, duty, duty, duty, oh, duty!
(Good God!)
Duty!
Duty!
(Duty!
Duty!)
I'm on duty!
(Duty!)
I'm on Duty!
(Duty!)
Duty, duty, duty, etc.

FZ: And whenever I say that to 'em when I'm going through customs, they always look back at me and they say, "Come on, Frank, tell us the truth. What are you really ON? I mean, you can't possibly expect us, with our uniforms and our submachine guns, to think that you're just, I mean, what are you ON?" An' I just say, "I'm on duty!"

I'm on duty!
I'm on duty!
I'm on duty!

FZ: Y'know, there was a time when I wasn't really on duty. There was a time when, well, let's just say there wasn't any need for my services, because, well, y'know, sometimes a guy gets unemployed. But today, I've found work. I've found happiness. Because I'm one of the few Americans who actually is on duty. Y'know what I mean? Hey, now look! So, well, let's just go right into that song then, and keep doing it until their film runs out, what the hey, we're on duty, aren't we? OK, because later, you can all have a pizza!

That's right, here we are!
At Saint Alfonzo's Pancake Breakfast
Where I stole the mar-juh-rene
An' widdled on the Bingo Cards in lieu of the latrine
I saw a handsome parish lady
Make her entrance like a queen
Why she was totally chenille
And her old man was a Marine
As she abused a sausage pattie
And said why don't you treat me mean?
(Hurt me, hurt me, hurt me, oooooh!)
(Pittie! Pattie! Pootie! Bootie-pootie!)
At Saint Alfonzo's Pancake Breakfast
(Hah! Good God! Get off the bus!)
Where I stole the mar-juh-rene . . .

Saint Alfonzo
Saint Alfonzo
Saint Alfonzo
Saint Alfonzo
Ooo-ooo-WAH . . .

Get on your feet an' do the funky Alfonzo!
Father Vivian O'Blivion
Resplendent in his frock
Was whipping up the batter
For the pancakes of his flock
He was looking rather bleary
(He forgot to watch the clock)
'Cause the night before
Behind the door
A leprechaun had stroked
The night before
Behind the door
A leprechaun had stroked
The night before
Behind the door
A leprechaun had stroked . . . his . . .
Sma-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ahhh (stroked his smock)

Dominus Vo-bisque 'em
Et come spear a tu-tu,
Oh!
Won't you eat my sleazy pancakes
Just for Saintly Alfonzo
They're so light 'n fluffy-white
We'll raise a fortune by tonite
They're so light 'n fluffy-white
We'll raise a fortune by tonite
They're so light 'n fluffy-brown
They're the finest in the town
They're so light 'n fluffy-brown
They're the finest in the town
Good morning, your Highness
Ooo-ooo-ooo

FZ: You're supposed to sing "I brought you your snow shoes." Wait a minute, wait a minute, hey, oh, hey! Bring the band on down behing me, boys. Alright. Come 'ere, come 'ere. The dynamic Tommy Mars, ladies and gentlemen!

I brought you your snow shoes
Ooo-ooo-ooo

FZ: Really good.

Good morning, your Highness
Ooo-ooo-ooo
I brought you your snow shoes

Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-nook
Na-na-na-na-na-nanook-oh
Nanook
Rubs it
Saint
Al
Al
Fo-fo-fo
Fo-fo-fo-fo-fo-fonzo

Saint Alfonzo really loves it when he rubs it for him
I have seen him rubbin' it
I have seen him rubbin' it
I have, I have a-seen him stroke his weenie
(It was teenie)
Rub it, rub it, rub it, rub it, rub
Nanook rubs it, Alfie loves it
Nanook rubs it, Alfie loves it
Nanook rubs it, Alfie loves it
Nanook's rubbin' it, 'n Alfie's lovin' it
Saint Alfonzo, do you hear us praying to you?
Can you fix my Chevy?
Boy, you're really heavy
Here's the church and here's the steeple
Open up and see the people
Some are kneelin', some are standin'
All the money they are handing
To some asshole with a basket
Where it goes we dare not ask it
Nanook rubs it, Alfie loves it
This here basket, really shoves it
Here's your quarter, here's your dollar
Let's play ring around the collar
Hup! We get it now!
(We get it now! We take now your little gifts)

THANK YOU,
THANK YOU,
THANK YOU,
THANK YOU,
THANK YOU,
THANK YOU,
THANK YOU,
THANK YOU, FRIEND!

FZ: Well, that about wraps it up for tonight, folks. Hope you all had a good time. Vinnie, Arthur, Tommy, Ikey, Denny, Petey, and Eddie. [...]

Ike: Hi, Frankie.

FZ: And I'm Frankie, good night!

Bamboozled by love . . .

HARTMUT STIDL
GERHARD LECHNER
ALBRECHT SCHINNERER
CAMERA

(Oh lord, the shit done hit the fan)

KLAUS DIETER
BERND DECKER
SOUND

RAIMONDO
BARTHELMES
EDITOR

DIRECTED BY
ULRICH SCHRAMM