Who Ever Said Comedy Had To Be Fun?

The Letterman endorsement is good enough for Chris Albrecht, head of HBO, Worldwide Pants' development partner on The High Life and Raymond. "I've always been impressed with the creativity and imagination of the people who work for Dave," Albrecht says. "They're not only uniquely talented, but they're also able to produce the same tone and quality as Dave. When you're looking for somebody to be in business with, you look for somebody who gets it. And they get it."

Creating something that's worthy of a cultural and television icon such as Letterman is a "gigantic responsibility" fraught with "an enormous amount of pressure," admits Burnett. Like a lot of creative people, he has absolute confidence in his artistic vision yet a gnawing insecurity that he's forever coming up short. Rather than being counterproductive, though, his fear -- of embarrassing Letterman, embarrassing himself, embarrassing anyone on staff -- is a constant source of motivation. A kick in the pants, if you will.

Not that he needs one. Burnett is a curiously casual overachiever, a shy sort who makes wry, self-deprecating comments practically under his breath. He's wired where it matters: upstairs. And he readily knocks himself out. "His schedule is unbearable," says Timothy Busfield, who plays Ed's older brother and is a co - executive producer on the show. "He works harder than anybody here." Burnett puts in 12-to-18-hour days, something that he has done since joining Late Night as an intern fresh out of college. In those days, he would get up at 5 in the morning, work with a buddy on a screenplay for three hours, and then go to work at Late Night. He wouldn't get home until late that night. "He has the stamina of a crazy person," says Barbara Gaines, a Late Show executive producer. "I don't know how he does it."

But Gaines thinks that she knows why he does it. "He has all of these images in his head that simply have to get out. It's like a dream come true for him to make this show," she says, meaning Ed. "He's doing what he loves."

Even if it doesn't always sound like it. A case in point: the following Wednesday morning, a week after the scrapbook shoot.

[Interior. Beckerman's office]
Burnett enters, studying a piece of paper. It's the Nielsen overnight ratings.
Beckerman: How'd American Idol do?
Burnett: Incredible. He recites the numbers. Beckerman's expression turns from deadpan to incredulous.
Beckerman: That's more than Friends. That's like the Super Bowl.
Burnett: This is what we're up against tonight.
Beckerman: We're dead.
Burnett: We're going to get killed.

Take Two: Partners for Laughs

Burnett's wife and his editor were right, of course. By the time he had watched Show 315 a second time, he did feel better about it. Perhaps Marc Buckland, a former co - executive producer on Ed, had the right idea when he suggested that Burnett refrain from giving feedback on footage for 48 hours. The show wasn't ready, but it was salvageable. After working alongside Stanzler for the entire weekend, he upgraded his assessment to a near boast: "It's definitely not the worst one we've done."

Even so, by Wednesday morning, Burnett looks like hell. Pillow-sculpted hair. Bloodshot eyes. Flying by the seat of his pants. He was up editing until 4 AM. "This is mile 24 of the marathon," he says. Instead of heading home, Burnett checked into the Holiday Inn up the road, crashed for three hours, and shuffled right back into his Northvale office at 8:30. It's a squat brown-brick building with narrow windows, located down the block from the Stuckeybowl set, which is next to Ace Hardware on Paris Avenue. The DMV looks more glamorous.

Miraculously, Show 317 is under way. Burnett and Beckerman have decided that Ed will sort through his feelings for Carol Vessey, his high-school crush, and Frankie, his new crush, in a lucid dream -- one in which the dreamer controls the action. This is a favorite topic for Burnett, who has lucid dreams himself. He and Beckerman wrote just enough scenes yesterday for the shooting to get started today. It's their worst nightmare, though -- shooting a first draft, or close to it. "In our case, doing a weekly TV show like this is usually about nothing more than making compromises," says Beckerman. "And that's painful."

There are two Rob Burnetts, explains Busfield. One is witty and easygoing, a joy to hang around with. The other is, well, not as much fun. Burnett the perfectionist. "That's the writer in him, the taskmaster," says Busfield. "He wants the show to be great all the time."