If you have ever heard of Saturday Night Live then you have heard of its Creator and Executive Producer (i.e. “God), Lorne Michaels.
WFME was fortunate enough to get a few moments to talk to the uber-comedy deity after he was accidentally injected with some kind of black market truth serum. You know, the kind you’ve seen on such hit television shows as Alias and The Greatest American Hero. Here’s what Mr. Michaels had to say:
Me: It’s an honor and a pleasure, Mr. Michaels.
Lorne Michaels: Pfffffbbbbbbbbt.
(Lorne Michaels rubs his fingers over what appear to be swollen lips while he makes a sound most similar to my 7 month old nephew for some time.)
Me: Really, I’m a huge fan of SNL.
Lorne Michaels: Well, that’s one person.
Me: Oh, c’mon. SNL is a hugely popular show.
Lorne Michaels: In the 70’s, sure. In the mid 80’s, okay. Before Wil Ferrell left, I’ll give you that one. But today? Well…we’ve got two women doing Weekend Update. What does that tell you, Frank?
Me: It’s Paul. Not Frank.
Lorne Michaels: I always hated the name Paul. I hated Paul Simon. McCartney. Reubens. So, whenever I meet someone with the name Paul, I give them a new name.
Me: Okay. Well, so what does having two women doing Weekend Update tell me?
Lorne Michaels: That the show sucks. Fallon, where are y-y-y-ou!
(Lorne Michaels starts to sob. For about 3 minutes, over and over again crying out Jamie Fallon’s name.)
Me: Well, why don’t you get some new talent? Hit The Groundlings? Second City? Freshen up the salad, if you know what I mean?
Lorne Michaels: My mother used to make me finish my Thousand Island-drenched salad as a child before I was allowed to have dessert. She was a horrific woman. Now, I hate her and salad.
Me: So, that’s a “No” to new talent?
Lorne Michaels: I don’t know why I’m still producing this show. It worse than “The Simple Life.”
Me: Maybe you’re producing it because you know it will someday turn around and be funny again.
Lorne Michaels: No. It’s for the money.
Me: Oh yeah?
Lorne Michaels: One millllllioooooon dolllllllarrrrrs.