Is this the new clown prince of late night?

Fox has tried late-night talk shows before—if you consider Joan Rivers, Chevy Chase, and Arsenio Hall trying—but this time they've got a secret weapon: a total unknown with zero experience and a dorky nickname. Talkshow with Spike Feresten, which debuts Saturday at midnight, will tweak the format's conventions with more sketch comedy, less talk, a slate of comedian guests delivering the opening monologue (Andy Richter does the honors on the premiere), and the occasional shirtless-old-guy dance routine. Manning the big desk will be host Spike (née Michael) Feresten, a 42-year-old Massachusetts native who got his start answering phones at SNL, where his unruly cowlicks earned him his unfortunate moniker. Despite the handicap, Feresten wrote what is arguably the most famous half hour in sitcom history—Seinfeld's "Soup Nazi" episode—and has been nominated for eight Emmys. He grew up wanting to be the next Jimi Hendrix but will settle for being the next Conan O'Brien.

Radar: Were you a funny kid?
SF: Well, yeah. I'm kind of small. I was small in school, and it was a defense mechanism. We've all heard that story. I was the class clown and all that.

Radar: But you were a sad clown?
SF: Only on the inside.

Radar: Your show subverts the talk-show genre—between Colbert, Ali G, and now you, have we seen the death of the traditional talk show?
SF: Let's hope so. Let's hope it dies with me, because frankly I'm tired of it. These shows have a point of view and a sense of humor. Colbert has a really good character going and his show is funny. But what we're doing is different from that. I'm just making a little place where people can come and laugh. It's a silly little show. I'm just out there by myself, behind a desk, you know, showing things that I think are funny.

Radar: I hear if the show does well, the network may make it nightly.
SF: God, let's hope so. I don't know. To be honest, I have my hands full with the half hour once a week, but if we can take down Jane Seymour's skin-gel infomercials then we've got a shot.

Radar: You're being modest. A few months from now you'll have groupies breaking into your dressing room.
SF: I can't imagine anyone is going to be remotely interested in me. Maybe I'm being naive. But I'm a happily married man.

Radar: I get it. You're scared your wife is going to read this.
SF: Ha. No, she's pretty cool about it. I know some famous people. I see how they deal with fans and things like that. These are the people who pay your bills. Just try to be polite. Shake hands, and say thank you.

Radar: And return the underwear to sender.
SF: If that happens, you're going to be the first person I call, but I doubt it will. I'm guessing it's going to be fat guys asking me to sign softballs. Something weird. Look at me: I'm no Seacrest. Honestly, I just hope my wife finds me attractive and we start having sex again. That would be awesome.

Radar: This is probably your last, best chance to give up Spike and return to Michael—Thoughts?

SF: There have been two opportunities to ditch Spike. One has already been blown. When I got hired on Seinfeld, I pitched Larry David at his house. I wrote my submission up as Michael Feresten. As I was leaving, he said, "Look, we're going to bring you on. I like your ideas." I stepped out of the gate, and he said, "Just one thing. I thought your name was Spike, it says Michael here." I was like, "Yeah, that's my god-given name." He said, "I like Spike better," and closed the gate. I wasn't able to ditch it there. It's a lot better than some of the nicknames I've had in the past. Like Pine Weasel. And Vincent Van Gopher. It's not the nickname I would have picked. I would have gone for Brucey ... or Hotshot. Cap'n. Anything. But not Spike.

Radar: How have you changed since landing your own show?
SF: The first thing that happened was the wardrobe girls came in, and I found out I never knew how to dress. The jeans I wore were the wrong year. My sneakers didn't match my socks. I was a disaster. They put me in these clothes that I'm not quite sure I should wear. Ever since, I've been teetering on the brink of being a Hollywood douche bag, clothes-wise.

Radar: Related: Is Jay Leno funny?
SF: I think he's a very funny and nice guy.

Radar: Right. How about Tina Fey?
SF: I can tell you one thing—I wear her glasses. That's how I'm securing my success. She's another very successful writer and performer with a big audience. Like Jay. Every comedian has their own specific audience.

Radar: When's the last time you pissed yourself laughing?
SF: Literally urinated in my pants?

Radar: Well, laughed hard. If there was actual urine involved, all the better.
SF: There was no urine involved. But I think I was watching a YouTube video. This guy Ken Sanders. It's from a 1991 New York public access show where he is pranked repeatedly for the entire half hour he's trying to do a show on gun control.

Radar: What is your reaction when you hear the words "No soup for you"? Is it a Manchurian Candidate—type situation?
SF: It makes me laugh. What is the guy's name? Al Yeganeh. That episode happened because a friend of mine brought me over there, and it was just like that. He pulled the soup away.

Radar: Do you still drop by for lunch occasionally?
SF: Yeah, but I've never told him it was me. I don't want him to turn me away. I did bring Jerry by once, because he wanted to go and pay his respects. I said, "He really doesn't want to hear from you, trust me. He feels he was famous before you came along and he's not happy being called a Nazi." Like a lot of people wouldn't be. Jerry insisted I bring him by, and it was ugly.

Radar: What happened?
SF: Lots of expletives. The Soup Nazi did this triple-take and went, "You fucking fuck." And then it just went downhill from there. It was very, very funny to watch. He did something a lot of people in line seemed to enjoy—he took Jerry's soup away. It was an amazing moment. Then he asked Jerry to apologize, and Jerry turned to everyone in line and gave a bullshit apology. I think he closed down to launch a 200-store chain. Great, great, great, great soup. But he's not a very nice guy, you know?