t began like any other carefully rehearsed moment on The Carol Burnett Show — polished timing, well-placed props, and a cast that knew exactly where the laughs were supposed to land.

But the moment Tim Conway stepped onto that stage, all bets were off.

What followed wasn’t just comedy. It was controlled chaos, a masterclass in improvisation that pushed his fellow actors — and the audience — to the absolute limits of laughter.

Every week, Conway arrived not just with his lines memorized, but with a quiet mission: to break someone.

Most often, that someone was Harvey Korman.

Korman, known for his impeccable professionalism and theatrical composure, became the perfect target.

Conway understood this better than anyone. The contrast between Korman’s attempt to remain dignified and Conway’s relentless unpredictability created a kind of comedic tension that audiences couldn’t get enough of.

It wasn’t scripted. It wasn’t planned. And that’s exactly why it worked.

Conway’s methods were brilliantly simple — and wildly effective. He would take a perfectly normal sketch and tilt it just slightly off balance.

Maybe he’d walk confidently into what was clearly a painted wall, pretending it was a real doorway.

Maybe he’d sit down… only to realize he had somehow perched himself awkwardly on a doorknob.

These weren’t just gags; they were traps. And Korman walked into every single one of them.

Meanwhile, Carol Burnett often found herself caught in the middle, trying — and failing — to maintain order.

As the show’s anchor, she carried the responsibility of keeping the sketch on track. But even she wasn’t immune.

The moment Conway went off-script, you could see it in her eyes — that flicker of realization that things were about to spiral.

And then, just like Korman, she’d lose it.

One of the most legendary examples of Conway’s comedic mischief came during the now-iconic submarine sketch.....