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Washington Post

How ‘Saturday Night Live' taught us to talk

A few days ago I went out to buy eggs, and only the expensive organic ones were left. 'Ohhh, nooooooo!' I exclaimed in the unmistakable falsetto of a tiny man made of Play-Doh. This was a strange response, but also a perfectly sensible one. I hadn't thought of Mr. Bill — the little clay man subject to all forms of comical physical abuse in Walter Williams's long-running series of short films for 'Saturday Night Live' — in decades. The first-ever Mr. Bill short, in which he's impaled, cut into pieces and catapulted into space, ran two Saturdays before I was born.