A SKETCH THAT NEVER GETS OLD — Tim Conway once revealed the story behind the moment that made Harvey Korman laugh so hard he literally lost control on The Carol Burnett Show. It happened during the now-iconic “Dentist Sketch,” when Conway—playing a painfully nervous dentist who accidentally injects himself with Novocain—began improvising in ways no one could predict. As his arm went numb, his leg collapsed, and his face froze in place, Korman fought to stay in character… and failed. “You could see him shaking,” Conway later recalled. “Then I heard it — he completely lost it.” The studio exploded. Carol Burnett ran offstage to keep herself from breaking, the audience roared, and the sketch teetered on the edge of total collapse. That unscripted moment became comedy history—a perfect storm of chaos, laughter, and brilliance, proving that when Tim Conway and Harvey Korman shared a stage, absolutely nobody was safe from cracking up.

The duo had the audience in stitches as Harvey Korman played a nervous patient and Conway played the role of the dentist.

They don’t make comedians like Tim Conway and Harvey Korman anymore. The duo was a laugh riot every time they were on screen, and the best example of that was “The Dentist” sketch on “The Carol Burnett Show.” Conway revealed to Conan O’Brien that Korman wet his pants from laughing. Conway played the role of the dentist while Korman played a nervous patient who had the audience in stitches. The sketch starts with Korman arriving at the dentist’s place to find out that the regular dentist isn’t available. The nurse insists the new dentist is qualified, but adds that he just graduated.

Conway is equally, if not more, nervous about attending to a patient. He musters the courage and decides to pull out Korman’s tooth as requested. What follows is a comedy of errors, starting with the incompetent dentist sticking the novocaine needle into his own skin, briefly paralyzing his right hand. Conway insists on going through with the procedure, and Korman begs to be relieved of his toothache. Conway then accidentally jabs his right foot and is comically trying to go through with the procedure with a briefly paralyzed right hand and foot. Halfway through the sketch, Korman can’t hold a straight face anymore and starts to laugh. He has simply given up as he watches Conway deliver a lesson in physical comedy. The audience is roaring with laughter throughout the sketch.

 

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“IT’S HARD TO WALK WITH DIGNITY.” Saturday night. One TV in the house. Everyone gathered like it was an event — because it was. The Sydney Opera House appeared on screen looking elegant and untouchable… and within minutes, Tim Conway turned it into the stage for perfectly unplanned chaos. Tim didn’t chase the joke. He inhabited it. He walked into it slowly. Painfully. As if gravity itself had a personal grudge against him. Carol Burnett fought to stay professional — truly fought — but Tim treated professionalism like a polite suggestion. One pause. One innocent glance. And suddenly the cast was gasping for air. This wasn’t scripted funny. This was “we might not survive this scene” funny. The kind where the audience laughs harder because the performers are losing control right in front of them. Harvey Korman starts shaking. Carol bends over, defeated. Tim just stands there, baffled, like he’s only trying to be helpful.

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The second Tim Conway stepped into that scene, you could already feel it coming. That slow walk, the squint, the pauses that stretched just a little too long — it was like watching a setup you knew was about to explode. And right there next to him, Harvey is doing everything he can to hold it together… and failing spectacularly. The outlaw’s already cracking, the room starts to shake with laughter, and Conway just keeps pushing it further — slower, quieter, more ridiculous with every second. That’s what made it magic. No rush, no noise — just perfect timing and the kind of control that turns silence into chaos. By the end, nobody’s in character anymore. Not Harvey. Not the cast. Not even the audience. Just pure, unstoppable laughter.

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