Hello, Mr. Bernstein? Lenny? How you doin'? My name is Sam Byck. We've never met. You're a world-renowned composer and conductor who travels the world over enjoying one success after another and I'm an out-of-work tire salesman, so I guess that's not surprising. But I hope you'll take a few minutes out of your busy schedule to listen to this tape which you just opened in the mail. If you can't listen to it now, maybe you can listen to it-- (He sings)
Tonight, tonight...

(He chuckles cheerfully.) I love that song. What a melody! And what a sentiment. "Tonight, tonight, I'll meet my love tonight..." Where is she, Lenny? Gimme a hint. (He takes a drink of Yoo-Hoo and a big bite of the sandwich.) Lenny, you're a modest kind of guy, I know that. But you'll indulge me for a minute if I say something from the heart. You're a genius. Yes, you are! And you know why? You understand what people want. You have their ear. You make 'em listen, Lenny. No one listens. Are you listening?! No one listens... (He takes another bite of sandwich.) Well, if you're hearing all this, I guess you're listening now, right? So, with all due respect, deferring to your stature in the world of music, classical and semi-classical, I want to offer you a small piece of advice...Hey, I know what you're thinking. Who the hell is Sam Byck with his fat ass and his tongue on rye to give a shit hot guy such as yourself advice? Well, Lenny, it's a fact that my unwillingness to compromise my principles and kiss ass like some people I could mention has cost me the so-called good life which others have enjoyed. So be it, Len. Fuck me, fuck you. But Lenny, listen. Listen to one small piece of advice from a true fan...Forget the long-hair shit and write what you write best. Love songs. They're what we need! They're what the world needs! "Lonely Town!" "Maria!" Tender melodies to cherish a lifetime! Timeless strains which linger in the memory and the heart! Love, Lenny! What the world needs now is love sweet love! Love makes the world go round! (He takes a slurp of Yoo-Hoo.) Well, not exactly. Bullshit makes the world go round. You know that all too well, a worthy guy such as yourself. You know the world's a vicious, stinking pit of emptiness and pain. But not for long. I'm gonna change things, Lenny. I'm gonna drop a 747 on the White House and incinerate Dick Nixon. It's gonna make the news. You're gonna hear about it and I know what you're gonna ask yourself: What kind of a world is this where a decent, stand-up guy like Sam Byck has to crash a plane into the President to make a point?] You're gonna wonder if you want to go on living in a world like that. Well, lemme tell you, Len. You do. And you know why? So you can keep on writing love songs! Yes! There's a gorgeous world out there, a world of unicorns and waterfalls and puppy dogs! And you can save it! Through the medium of your God-given talent! Do it, Lenny! Save the world! Is that too much to ask?!...Oh, Lenny. One more thing. When you hear about my death you're gonna wonder if there's something more you could've done. Lenny, you did everything you could... (He clicks off the tape recorder. A beat. Then he clicks it on again.) Well, maybe not everything. Maybe not absolutely everything, you know? Maybe one day you could've picked up a phone and said, "Hey, Sammy, how's it going? Hang in there, Sam. This Bud's for you." How long would that have taken you? A minute? Half a minute? That was too much, wasn't it? You probably had your limo double parked. You and your shit hot buddies had a plane to catch to Paris, France for dinner and a blow job. Hey, I understand. I understand all too well, my friend. You're just like all the rest of them-- (He flips through the tapes, reading names.) Jonas Salk, Jack Anderson, Hank Aaron...You knew where I was. You all did. And you know what you did? You left me there! You jerks! You shits! You pricks! You had your chance and now it's too damn late! Fuck me?! Fuck you! I'm outta here! I'm history, Lenny! Understand?! I'm history! (He takes a big bite of the sandwich, chews. Lights fade, as he starts to sing...)

I like to be in America,
O.K. by me in America,
Knobs on the doors in America,
Wall-to-wall floors in America!

(Blackout)