Tim Conway goes completely off the rails — and Harvey Korman has no chance of surviving it. What starts as a simple stop at a self-service gas station turns into total chaos the moment Conway decides to play it spectacularly clueless. Every painfully slow movement, every bewildered pause, every wrong choice at the pump drives Korman closer to the breaking point — until he completely collapses into laughter on live television. The audience erupts. The sketch falls apart. And Conway? He never backs down — he just keeps pushing it further. One of the most unforgettable moments from The Carol Burnett Show — unstoppable comedy from beginning to end. FULL VIDEO BELOW.

It started simple — just two guys at a gas station. But when Tim Conway took over as the clueless attendant in The Carol Burnett Show’s “Self-Service Gas Station” sketch, it turned into an all-out comedy catastrophe.

Conway, in full deadpan mode, moved slower than a broken pump. Every time Harvey Korman tried to stay composed, Tim found a new way to derail him — twisting the nozzle the wrong way, spraying gas everywhere, and asking the most ridiculous questions with a straight face that could kill. Korman’s patience evaporated on camera; you could see him clenching his jaw, fighting back laughter, and finally losing it completely.

 

The brilliance wasn’t in the script — it was in Conway’s chaos. He pushed every pause just a little too long, turned silence into suspense, and somehow made fumbling with a fuel hose feel like Shakespearean farce. By the end, Korman was red-faced, the audience was roaring, and Conway was standing in triumph — the king of comedic sabotage.

Even decades later, that clip still feels electric. It’s proof that when Tim Conway decided to go rogue, not even Harvey Korman — or the laws of logic — could stop him.

 

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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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