Cheers is filmed before a live studio audience.
- Evening, everybody. - Norm!
- What can I do for you, Mr Peterson? - Elope with my wife.
What do you think, huh?
- How you doing? - Hey, Cliff ie.
Pretend we're having a normal conversation, huh?
With you?
Party. My house. Saturday.
Twelve noon sharp. You're invited.
- A party at noon? - Keep it under your hat, will you?
You're the only one in the bar I invited. I don't want to hurt anybody's feelings.
- Hurt mine. - Norm, Norm, Norm.
Look, we're gonna have plenty of beer, cold cuts galore, a big bucket of slaw.
Oh, you're gonna love it.
And we're gonna maybe do a little painting.
- Painting? - Well, just the attic.
That's not the point. I'm inviting a lot of the guys from the post office.
- It'll be a great time. - I don't think so, Clifford.
- Hey, what's the problem here, Norm? - You know I hate to paint.
- You know that. - Yeah, so who doesn't?
But, hey, with all these guys around there, it'll take no time at all.
Oh, all right. But don't tell Vera, all right?
She'd get upset. I haven't finished painting our house yet.
Oh, how far have you gotten?
Oh, I bought the little hat.
I am so tired tonight. I can't wait to get home and take a nice hot bath.
What? Little Miss Popularity has a free evening?
Don't tell me you've been through all the men in Boston.
Oh, really, Frasier.
I heard you used to be a psychiatrist, Dr. Crane.
Yes, I once belonged to that ridiculous profession
where pompous intellectuals get together and discuss the illusion
that there's something they can do to alter the human situation
and deny that man is condemned to a life of bitterness and despair.
Yeah, but you got your weekends off.
I'm sorry, will you excuse me.
Poor Frasier. Lost his job, and all he's got working for him
is a drinking problem.
Well, you know, we ought to help Dr. Crane. I mean, we're his friends.
Somebody ought to give him a good talking to.
Don't you think I've done that?
You can't imagine how long and how hard I've talked.
Oh, yes, we can.
He's lost his self-esteem.
Without that, how can he hope to practice his profession?
You know what Frasier needs? He needs to come out of the bullpen
and get his first out. You know, get his confidence back, his rhythm.
Sam, you're right. If he could only cure someone.
Do we know someone with a problem?
Yeah, stumper.
Come on, doesn't anyone want to talk to Frasier?
- I mean, he's a trained psychiatrist. - Hey, you're the one
who had her brain overhauled. Aren't you still under warranty or something?
If I talk to him in any personal way, he'll interpret it as a romantic overture.
Look, we don't even need someone with a real problem.
One of you could go to him with some symptoms,
let him advise you, wait a while, then tell him you feel better.
I don't know, Diane.
I think it's a good plan.
- Well, thank you, Woody. - It's quick, it's simple,
and you don't have to send away for one of those kits or anything.
What kits?
You know, like the coyote does in the Road Runner cartoons.
By the way, now, I always wondered, if he can afford to buy those kits
to catch the Road Runner, why can't he afford to buy something to eat?
Woody, I think you're missing the point here.
It's not that Wile E. Coyote wants to eat, necessarily,
or that he wants to eat a roadrunner.
What he wants is to eat that particular roadrunner.
It's very existential.
We're trying to save a man's life here.
Yeah, Cliff, really. Besides, I have to disagree with you, you know.
You never see the coyote eat anything else.
Think about it. You never really see him eat anything at all,
which could be why he's missing the damn bird all the time, you know.
The brain needs sugar. Think about it. You gotta clamp...
Yeah, yeah, yeah. But did you guys ever see the one
- where there were two roadrunners? - Two roadrunners?
- Sam, Sam, Sam. - What?
I think this plan will work, and you're the one that has to do it.
Me? Oh, come on. You can't expect me to pull something over on Frasier.
I don't know anything about psychology.
But you have no idea how simple this will be. I'm talking about something
as easy as, say, depression.
- Depression? - Yes.
The symptoms are loss of appetite, inability to sleep, loss of sex drive.
Loss of sex drive, like in not wanting to have any sex?
Forget it. No, no, no. I don't like to lie about things like that.
Oh, Sam, why not?
Well, when I was a kid, I used to make goofy faces. My mom used to say,
"Don't do that. It may stay that way."
I'm not doing anything goofy with my sex life. No, I'm sorry. Come on.
Sam, Sam, Sam. Do this for me, and I'll owe you a big, big favor
that doesn't involve sex, sex or sex.
- How about sex? - Or sex.
Hey, Woody, pour me a beer, will you? Thanks.
Sam, do it for Frasier, your friend.
Now, there's a head I can shrink.
- Say, Frasier. - Yeah, Sam?
Can I talk to you for a minute in my office, please? This won't take long.
Look, Sam, I know my bar bill's way up there,
but I'm gonna be selling off part of my library, possibly some office furniture.
No, no, no, forget it. I mean, I want you to pay your bar bill,
but that's not what I want to talk about.
Frasier, I got a problem. I'm depressed.
Oh, hey, who isn't?
Oh, well, no, no, no. This is serious.
I think I need some professional help on this one.
I can't eat, can't sleep and I can't have sex.
- Those are the classic symptoms. - Well, the sex part's not that bad.
I don't even know why I brought it up.
Well, what do you think has caused this problem?
The completely nonsexual one?
Well, I don't know. I don't know. What do you think it is?
You know, you're the only person I trust to listen to on this one.
Well, okay, Sam, I think I have some advice for you.
- Oh, good. What? - Well, get yourself a qualified therapist
to help you get over your depression.
And when you do, give me his name.
No way can a coyote survive a gunpowder sandwich.
Well, I suppose that proves that the coyote's the Antichrist. Come on.
Well, I can tell by the look on your face and Frasier's that it didn't go well.
Not only did it not work, but I had to tell another man
that my equipment was on the fritz.
It was humiliating.
Well, I really appreciate that you gave it a try, Sam.
Thank you.
Oh, wait a minute. You still owe me a favor here, don't you?
Oh, I suppose I do. Do you have something in mind?
Yeah, let's go to bed.
Sam, have you forgotten my caveats?
Almost. I was hoping to refresh my memory.
Good morning, one and all. I feel delicious.
- Well, good morning, Frasier. - Good morning.
- Coffee. May I, Sam? - Sure.
- Certainly. - Listen, Diane, if you wouldn't mind,
I'd like to have a word in private with Sam.
- Of course. Help yourself. - Thank you.
Sam, I had the most incredible evening.
Last night I dreamed about something not Diane.
Well, she was in the background chattering on about something. Naked.
But the important thing is I was a therapist again.
And you were my patient, and we were discussing that problem.
- Problem? What problem? - You know, the one about your--
Jingle bells, jingle bells Jingle all the way
Why don't we just go into my office and talk about it there.
- I'm sorry it's so messy. - All right.
I got home last night, and I couldn't get your problem out of my mind.
- I think I've got a handle on it. - Well, great.
Your whole problem stems from the fact that you're still in love with Diane.
You've been suppressing that emotion, denying it.
Well, what's your opinion about that?
Let me go find out. I mean, let me think it out.
I think better out here, more light.
- I hope you're happy. - Why? What happened?
Frasier thinks I'm depressed because I'm in love with you.
Oh, dear. I didn't see that coming.
Yeah. I'm gonna go back in there and tell him the truth
- before this gets even more ridiculous. - Oh, Sam.
Didn't you see the bounce in that man's step? The twinkle in his eye?
Let him think he made a good diagnosis.
What harm could it possibly do?
Oh, I don't know. As long as you don't think I'm in love with you.
- Well, I don't. - All right.
Not entirely.
At all.
Much.
Not a bit.
Mostly.
- Okay, you got it. - Got what?
Oh, come on. We don't have to rehash this over and over again.
- You said it, and I agree with it. - But trust me. Sam, say it.
Take a step toward feeling stronger and better.
Free yourself. Sam, say it now.
Okay. Okay.
- I love Diane. - Oh, God, it's true.
Thank you, Sam.
You're welcome. Are you all right?
I'm better than all right. I'm reborn.
That revelation was just the catharsis I needed.
I've looked at the truth in its pure, undiluted form.
Now I can get on with my life.
Oh, well, great. Hey, I feel better. You feel better. What could be better?
No, just a second, Sam. You've only just begun.
- What do you mean? - You've admitted that you love Diane.
To get rid of your depression, you'll have to admit it to her.
Sam, you must tell her that you love her.
Come on, man, don't make me say that. Don't-- Come on.
- Well, why not? - Because I don't--
- Because I don't want to. - Come on, man.
Tell Diane you love her. Let some fresh air and sunlight in there.
- Frasier? - What, Sam?
I don't like guys touching my head.
Well, there's our next session.
I'm gonna run over to Louis and take a look at the new spring line.
See what I can do for the outer man, eh, Sam?
Yeah. Yeah, good idea. So this thing with Diane doesn't have
- to take place right away? - Oh, yes, it does.
Sam, it's very important. You must tell her immediately.
I'll be back tomorrow, and you can fill me in on everything that transpires.
Every thought, every nuance, every detail.
- Every thought? - Absolutely. Oh, and, Sam,
- this one's on the house. - Oh, great.
- Afternoon, everybody. - Norm!
- What can I get you, Mr Peterson? - Clifford Clavin's head.
Well, what are you upset with Mr Clavin about?
I spent the whole day yesterday at Cliff's house at a painting party,
and I was the only one who showed up.
I painted all day while Cliff and his mother
argued over who forgot to pick up the food and beer.
Did they at least thank you for your hard work?
Well, Woody, that depends if you consider "your friend sweats like a mule" a thank you.
No, that's really more like polite conversation.
Hey, what a party. What a night.
Hey, Norm. Tell me, did I make an ass out of myself, huh?
I'd bet on it.
Sam, calm down. There's nothing to be excited about.
Tell Frasier you told me you loved me.
- Simple as that, huh? - Certainly.
Well, for your information, he wants details. Every thought, every moment.
Oh, dear, you're right.
Knowing Frasier, he'll want a complete account.
- Yeah, right. - Well, it's still quite simple.
Tell him you said, "Diane, I love you."
I said, "How very sad for you."
- Then you said-- - No, no, no. Whoa, whoa.
This was your stupid plan. Now, if I have to be in love with you,
then you have to be in love with me.
- Oh, all right, if it'll help Frasier. - All right.
So I love you, and you're gaga over me.
"Gaga" makes it sound like I'm more in love with you than you are with me.
If we're going to do this,
I want to be only as much in love with you as you are with me.
Okay, I love you, you love me.
Now...
...the story.
Okay, we went out for Chinese, told each other you know what,
and then we went back to my place and tore one off.
- Good lord. - What?
Well, Frasier knows I would never be seduced
by such a pedestrian approach.
Hey, who said anything about walking?
Fine. Fine. Let me hear your suggestion. This ought to be good.
Oh, how about this?
Do you remember that romantic hideaway in Marblehead?
- The one with the fabulous seafood? - Yeah.
Tell him we arrived at sunset.
The maître d'...
- You better write this down. - Oh, I like this.
All right.
Sunset.
- We asked for our table. - Yeah, right by the big fireplace.
- With the ocean view. - Okay.
Now, what did we eat?
He's not going to ask you what we ate.
We were too hungry to eat. Oh, that's good. That's good.
No, it's not good.
No, no, no. You see, hungry usually means food.
- Now, what I'm doing here-- - No, I get it.
It's just not good. Erase that.
All right. All right.
Tell him you were so filled with passion
that you pushed the plates aside and grabbed my hand.
"Filled with passion."
Then you say what you brought me up there to tell me.
Oh, yeah, yeah. "I love you."
Well, Sam, I think you can enhance it a bit.
Like,
"I love you, Diane.
I've always loved you, and I always will, till the day I die.
No, not even the grave will diminish my love. Only...
Only make its flame burn brighter."
Whatever.
- Then, of course, it's my turn. - Yeah, right. What do you say to me?
I look you in the eyes and I say, "You're not so bad yourself."
No, no, no. Come on. After what I just said to you?
No, no, no. It's gotta be more. Something like,
"I love you so much, I can't stand it.
As far as I'm concerned,
you're the only person in the world that matters to me,
and I'd jump at the chance to be your love slave."
Whatever.
All right, all right, all right.
Okay, so then we go upstairs.
If you insist.
We can leave the rest to Frasier's imagination.
We're already up there, I mean...
I mean, the room is paid for.
All right, all right. I'll just build a fire.
- If you like. - Yeah.
Then go over to the bed,
and I'll start nibbling on your ear. Yeah. You always used to love that.
Oh, yeah.
- What do you mean, "Oh, yeah"? - Oh, nothing.
No, no, no. Come on, what do you mean?
Well, I don't suppose it would do any harm to tell you.
As long as we're on the subject, I never particularly cared for that.
The ear nibbles?
Well, you sure seemed to.
I didn't want to upset you, male pride and all that.
What else did you seem to enjoy?
Everything else was fine.
Just the ear nibbles were annoying.
I'm only bringing this up because there's no longer anything between us, and...
- ...we've grown so. - Yeah, yeah. Grown.
You know, while we're on the subject here,
you remember that little yellow nightie you used to wear?
As I recall, I never wore it very long.
- You loved that nightie. - No, no, you just thought I loved it.
- You didn't love it? - It made you look like a big banana.
It's good that we can laugh like this, right?
I can't believe I paraded around in that damn nightgown
thinking I was arousing you, and instead, I was amusing you.
It wasn't amusing that long. I mean, after a while, it got kind of sad.
Why didn't you tell me?
Well, because I knew we'd get in a fight, and you'd end up saying that you hate me.
- Well, I do hate you, Sam. - Well, I hate you, Diane.
You're incapable of any originality.
Now, you just said you hate me because I said I hate you.
All right, fine. I'll change mine. Yours was "I hate you."
Mine will be "I hate you!"
Oh, great.
And I just bought three Italian suits.
- Oh, shut up, Frasier! - Sam, what happened here?
Well, the same thing that always happens. She's a nut.
She's certifiably insane.
Look, Sam, is that any way to talk to the woman you love?
Oh, come on, Frasier! Let me fill you in here, pal.
I don't love Diane. That was just part of her plan
to make you feel better by making you think that you'd cured me.
- I see. - I'm sorry.
Frasier, you were once a brilliant psychiatrist.
We couldn't bear standing by, seeing you throw it all away.
So this is what it's come to.
You were practicing deceit to get my confidence back.
You took pity on me.
You, of all people.
Two of the most pitiful people I know.
Hey, hey, hey, hey. She's a lot more pitiful than I am.
- Sam. - You're both pitiful. I'm pitiful.
We're, all three, a pitiful ménage à boobs.
Well, this boob is moving on.
You two may not have the courage to face it, but I finally do.
Sam and Diane, you are now and have always been, hopelessly in,
I guess the word for it is "love."
And unfortunately for you, like it or not, you always will be.
I know! I know! Now you're gonna deny it.
Even though it's ludicrously obvious to everyone around you,
you two will go on pretending it's not true because you're emotional infants!
You're in a living hell.
You love each other and you hate each other.
And you hate yourselves for loving each other.
Well, my dear friends, I want no part of it.
It's time I just picked up my life where I left off.
It's time to put Humpty-Dumpty back together again.
So I'll get out of here now so you can just get on with your denial fest.
Well?
Well, what?
What do you think about what Frasier said?
Frasier's a pretty sharp guy.
Well, we agree on something.
What's next?
Well, if this is hell, I'm...
I'm not that unhappy.
Then we agree on something else.
Yeah.
Hey, I only said that...
That I didn't like your nightgown because you said that I...
...that you didn't like my ear nibbles.
Well, I would've liked your ear nibbles if you hadn't sounded
so much like a chipmunk.
Well, I'd rather sound like a chipmunk than look like a banana.