Cheers is filmed before a live studio audience.
I'm telling you guys,
Davy Crockett was the greatest American hero.
No question.
Come on! Man, he deserted his wife and kids,
had one of the worst absentee records in the history of Congress.
Who's your hero?
bambino. Babe Ruth.
Sultan of Swat. Built Yankee Stadium.
Come on, stop, will ya? From what I hear,
the guy was a glutton, a regular eating-and-drinking machine.
Oh, who am I supposed to pattern my life after, Gandhi?
All right, you want to talk American heroes?
I'll give you Numero uno, the only guy who should be on the list,
- Mr. J. Edgar Hoover. - What?
J. Edgar Hoover was a paranoid, right-wing, megalomaniac
who used his position to intimidate presidents and congressmen
and smear anybody who disagreed with him.
Can't poke any holes in that guy, can you?
Let's face it, everybody.
In America in the 1990s, there are no heroes anymore.
Hey, guys, I'd like you to meet my date.
Sammy! Sammy! Sammy!
Oh, boy.
Hey, everybody, guess what.
I was reading The Farmer's Almanac.
Guess what. This is an historical day.
This is the second coldest day
- in the history of Boston. - Yeah.
And don't you want to know
when the coldest day in the history of Boston...
Woods, things are pretty boring around here,
but I don't think we've quite sunk that low yet, okay?
Guess what, you guys. Robin Colcord bought me a new desk.
So when was the coldest day in the history of Boston, Wood?
Interestingly enough,
the coldest day in Boston's history did not start out that way.
Yeah, it started out relatively warm, but then, by noon,
- the temperature began to drop. - So, you got a new desk, huh?
Hey, Normie, you want to see
where the Flannigans' dog almost bit me?
Well, congratulations, Cliff.
You have just won the Boston Bore-athon.
Mr. Clavin, how can you be delivering mail
on the coldest day in Boston's history except for one?
A very good question there, young Woodman.
It seems that like any member of your camel family,
we Clavins have an extra...
No, wait. That's how I can go without water for a week.
Whew! Boy, is it cold out there!
Don't even try, Sam. These people don't care.
Hey, it's the kind of day you want to curl up
in front of a roaring fire with a good book.
Unfortunately, the one I've been working on
is around here someplace. Oh, here we go.
Let's see, where was I? Tina! Tina.
Tina, two stars.
Two stars? That's not very good, is it, Sammy?
You kidding? It was great. That's what she was wearing, two stars.
Sammy, excuse me, do you know how to spell "courteous"?
Yeah, Norm. Just as it sounds. Then check it with Frasier.
I've got to write this letter of recommendation for Doris.
Remember my secretary Doris?
- Oh, yeah. What, did she quit? - I have to let her go.
Business hasn't been going too good since I decided to stop working.
Anyway, she's on her way over here. I got to finish this puppy.
Well, what do you got so far there?
I got... all right. "To whom it may concern, Doris..."
And then there's this big middle chunk
that I'm still working on.
Then I close with, "and I hope the Red Sox win the pennant.
Norm Peterson."
That's how I end all my correspondences.
Actually, Norm, you have to use upbeat adjectives like...
..."hardworking", "loyal", "professional".
Good, good.
How about "prompt"?
Oh, "prompt." Cliff ie, all right.
If I might make a suggestion, too, why don't you write it on stationery
instead of a cocktail napkin?
Boy, you know, I bet it was murder for Robin
to get that desk delivered on a cold day like this.
Yeah, I bet there was only one day in Boston's history
when it would've been harder to get something delivered.
If you pretend like you're interested in my desk,
I'll pretend like I'm interested in your weather.
Deal, Miss Howe.
You know, interestingly enough,
the coldest day in Boston's history did not start off that way.
Like, the barometric pressure in the morning...
I'm sorry, Woody. Wait.
I bit off more than I can chew.
All right, guys.
I think I got a good start on this. I open up with all that courtesy crap,
and then I go, "I'm sorry to let Doris go.
No reflection on her. She's a fine worker
and I'm sure she'll be an asset to any company.
May the Red Sox... yada-yada. Norm Peterson."
- That's good. - Yeah.
Oh, there she is.
My God, he's going to fire the Morton Salt Girl.
Doris, hi. Here you go.
Just have a seat.
- Thank you, Mr. Peterson. - Well, you're welcome.
- This is a very nice place. - Well...
I would offer to buy you a drink, but I don't have any money.
Do you know if they accept a Sears card?
No. It's okay, Doris. It's okay, really.
Doris, I don't know quite how to put this.
You've really been a great secretary,
but I just can't afford to keep you around any longer.
Oh, God, I'm fired. I wish I was dead.
Doris, really, I'm very sorry. It really hurts me to do this.
Oh, don't be sorry.
The last thing I want to do is make you feel guilty.
Working for you has been the high point of my life.
Doris, all you ever did was sit around my office and sharpen pencils.
Please, Mr. Peterson, you're going to make me cry.
Anyway...
I've written a letter of recommendation for you.
Go ahead and take that.
You can type it and give it to me for my signature.
Oh, what the hell? Just go ahead and forge my signature.
- Mr. Peterson, I'm overwhelmed. - Well...
I don't know what to say.
What's there to say? I think I've said it all there.
Oh, yes, you have.
And I want you to know I love you, too, Mr. Peterson.
"Prompt", "courteous", "Red Sox."
Doris, I...
You're reading something into this, I think, you know?
It must've taken a lot of guts to open up that way.
Doris, I didn't say anything.
I didn't mean to imply anything.
Well, then, why would you lead me on?
I'm not leading you on, Doris. You are a fine secretary.
A good employee. That's end of story, okay?
- Oh, I see. - Yeah.
Well, this is so embarrassing.
So very, very embarrassing.
If you'll excuse me, I'll just go quietly.
Oh, no, Doris, please. Now, you don't have to do that.
You don't want me to go?
No, I don't want you to go quietly. I mean...
Come on, think about it. This is a bar.
You can make as much noise as you like, okay?
Hey! Ho! Come on! Hey!
Hey there!
I'll always remember the way you looked
when you said that.
Norm, that was a very hard thing to do
and an even harder thing to watch.
Oh, it's gorgeous.
Isn't it gorgeous, everyone?
You know, I could have had a desk like this once.
A beautiful antique, real prestige piece.
Something to mirror and dignify my status.
But I decided that that sort of display was too ostentatious,
so I put the money into pinstriping my beamer.
Looks pretty sporty, too.
- Afternoon, everybody. - Norm!
Hey, Mr. Peterson, Jack Frost nipping at your nose?
Yeah. Now let's get Joe Beer nipping at my liver, huh?
Anybody seen Doris around here?
Oh, yeah. Little gal with the Moe Howard haircut?
Bingo. Yeah.
Thought you got rid of her.
Sammy, I'm trying to. I can't shake the girl.
I mean, I come in Cheers, she's here.
I go upstairs to plug the parking meter, she's there.
I come back in Cheers, she's here.
Sammy, it's like somehow she's figured out my whole routine.
Oh, Mr. Peterson. I knew I'd find you here
when you weren't at the parking meter.
Could I warm up your seat for you?
It's okay, Doris. It's never cold.
I love that about him.
Doris...
We have to get something straight here, okay?
Yes, Mr. Peterson?
I am not interested in you, okay?
I'm not interested in any woman except for my wife,
and I'm not even interested in her.
She's a very lucky woman.
Doris, I really hate that it's come to this, but scram, okay?
If my scramming would make you happy...
Doris, get a life for Christmas, will you?
If my getting a life would make you happy...
Doris, yes, it would. As a matter of fact, it would.
Before I go, Mr. Peterson, could I sing "Seasons in the Sun" to you?
Go, Doris.
We had joy, we had fun
We had seasons in the sun...
No, I mean go, Doris! Go on, get out of here.
Go! Go on.
- Could I please just have my beer? - All right, but just guess.
What was the coldest day in the history of Boston?
Am I gonna have to talk to the manager?
She don't know.
Hey, Woody, come here. You got to listen to this.
All right, once again,
for our free trip to Hawaii, be the first caller
with the correct answer, and the question is,
what was the coldest day in the history of Boston?
Woody, go for it, man. Here's your chance to win here.
No, I am not using my knowledge for personal gain.
Then tell me. I'll call them.
No. You weren't interested before.
And I have a caller on the line. Who am I speaking to, please?
Woody Boyd.
Mr. Boyd, what was the coldest day in Boston's history?
You don't really care. You're just like all the rest.
- Woody, tell him. - All right.
The coldest day in Boston's history is January 12, 1981.
Mr. Boyd, you've won our grand prize!
- All right! - The winds were westerly
- at 20 miles per hour. - You'll be staying...
interestingly enough, the coldest day in Boston's history
did not start out that way.
...home of the world-famous mahi-mahi burger.
The barometric pressure was hovering...
Hey, weatherman, shut up!
- Not till I'm finished. - Give me that.
He'll be right down to pick up his prize.
What did I win, a T-shirt?
Woody, you're going to Hawaii.
I'm going to Hawaii?
It's not cold there, suckers!
Guys, guys.
Robin just faxed me this message about the desk.
"Dear Rebecca,
by now, you've received your desk.
You should know that it has a hidden secret
that's going to make you very happy.
But don't look for it,
because I want to be there to share the surprise.
I will give you one hint.
The key word is...
... ring."
It's a ring, Carla.
There is a ring hidden in that desk.
Isn't that romantic?
My ex-husband hid my engagement ring in an X-rated soap on a rope.
He scrubbed me raw for two hours before I found it.
Now, that's magic time.
God, what am I supposed to do?
I can't look for my ring for two weeks?
All right. If that's what Robin wants, I will respect the man's wishes.
The important thing is to stay out of his drawers,
which shouldn't be too hard for you.
Want another one, Norm?
No, thanks, Sammy. I'm going home.
I'm not feeling too great, you know?
I just can't shake the sight of Doris staring at me
and undressing me with her eyes.
Now I want to go home.
Anyway, see you in the morning, I guess.
Yeah, I may be a little late.
That's okay. I had a key made.
She's following me! Make it stop! Make it stop!
I'm sorry, Mr. Peterson. If you don't want me to follow you,
I could walk in front of you,
but then you'd have to tell me where you're going all the time.
Doris, how long have you been out there?
I don't know. The crystal on my watch cracked from the cold.
I would take it off, but I think it's fused to my skin.
Doris, what am I gonna do with you?
Do you want me to go back outside and wait by the parking meter?
No. Just sit down, will you?
Sammy, do you have any hot chocolate or something like that?
Frasier, we have to talk. Come on.
- No, Norm, I'm sorry. - What?
I have had it with giving out this free psychological advice.
It's bad enough I do it as a living.
I mean, I have to come to the bar and do it here, too?
I'm not about to analyze this poor, pitiful creature
who obviously is suffering from a very low self-image
and finds in you a validation of her sense of self
in her own personality. Damn it, I did it again!
Okay. So what you're saying is
that I basically appeal to her desperate nature?
Clinically speaking, she'd go for anything
that could lumber up to her under its own power.
Okay, now, how do I get rid of her?
Well, try building up her self-confidence.
If she feels better about herself,
she'd be less inclined to degrade herself
by going for the likes of you.
I mean no offense.
I mean, when I say, 'the likes of you," I don't mean you personally.
Just any unappealing, go-nowhere loser.
So why should I take offense?
Good man.
Doris. I have no idea why you're attracted
to such an unappealing, go-nowhere loser as me.
Now, there are hundreds of...
I tell you, there's thousands of guys
who'd be happy to be involved with you.
- Thousands? - Yes, dozens.
But the letter.
No, Doris, I didn't write the damn letter, okay?
I mean, I wrote the part about the Red Sox,
but the other guys, they helped me with it.
Cliff wrote the word 'prompt," didn't you, Cliff ie?
Oh, yeah, you bet.
Wow. And you don't even know me.
Although, maybe in a way, you do.
Red light. Red light, Cliff.
- Oh, what's the matter? - Frasier, come on, tell him.
- Come on! - All right.
But after this, you're on the clock.
Cliff, you may think that you're getting involved
in a nice conversation with this girl,
but believe me, she will read volumes
into everything you say and do.
Cliff ie, it's like she's a zombie love slave,
just willing to do anything to serve her man.
- You understand what I'm saying? - Oh, yeah. Crystal clear.
I got a live one. I don't even have to buy her a drink.
Hey.
Carla, come here.
There's a handle loose on one of the desk drawers.
- Do we have a screwdriver? - You can't fool me.
You're just trying to take that desk apart to look for your ring.
I am way above that. I would not betray my man's trust.
You know, that handle is really loose. Do we have a crowbar?
You know, a postal carrier is pretty much
the Indiana Jones of your civil servants.
Just as Indy faces off a pit of rattlesnakes
or a sewer full of rats,
I have to, daily, mind you, trade wits with the Flannigans' dog.
Oh, Cliff...
When you get out of the service, could we go out together?
Well, you know, Doris, there's actually no rule
against mailmen dating women. It just sort of turns out that way.
How you doing there, Norm?
Kind of at loose ends, a little bit, you know?
Just feels strange not having
that sad, pathetic creature following me around all time.
Doris kind of grew on you, huh?
Oh, no. I meant Cliff.
Hi, guys.
Woody, what are you doing in that stuff?
Man, where's your coat? You must be freezing.
You're telling me.
Deejays made me dress up in all this Hawaiian stuff
and take pictures outside the radio station.
Then they locked me out and kept all my clothes.
I hate those mean morning shows.
- Hey there. - Yeah.
We found this in the truck. Must've fallen off that big old desk.
Oh, well, yeah. Thanks very much.
I wonder if...
...the ring is in there.
Let me tell you, nothing more pathetic
than a billionaire on the make.
You know, when I got a babe in my crosshairs,
I don't waste time sending her jewelry and furniture.
The only time you see me move a desk
is when I want more room on the floor for her.
- What do you got? - No ring in here. Just some paper.
"This certificate authenticates
that this desk once belonged to George Bernard Shaw.
It has become known as the Ring Desk
because of the dark ring clearly visible on the desktop
where he set down his tea cup
upon completing the fifth act of Man and Superman."
I wonder if that's the one where he fought the mole people.
So this tea cup thing is the ring Colcord was talking about.
Yeah. Boy, that's really romantic, isn't it?
A desk that used to belong to some dork who writes comic books.
This Robin, man, he's got a lot to learn about chicks.
"This desk has been appraised at $5..."
Whoa, look at all those zeroes.
Wow!
Maybe I should tell Rebecca, huh?
Maybe some other time.
I have to go powder my nose.
Boy, oh, boy, am I dreaming, or what?
Somebody pinch me. Ho, gee.
Ow, will ya? Ah!
I'm awake, I'm awake, I'm awake.
Carla, Carla, Carla.
Stop hurting Cliff now.
All right. Cliff ie, I'm not gonna let you
take advantage of that poor girl, okay?
Oh, come on. Stop being such a big baby.
You're just mad cause she likes me and not you.
- Carla, hurt Cliff. - Hey! No, no, no.
I'm having a good time, that's all, Norm.
Come on, Cliff. She's a nice girl. She's got a few problems,
and you're just using that knowledge to get an easy roll in the hay.
Well, duh!
Come on, Cliff.
You don't really care about her. Admit it.
Come on, Norm. Of course I care about the girl.
I'm the one who said she was prompt.
You're a mailman. What the hell do you know about prompt?
All right. That's it, Peterson.
I'm trained in the art of self-defense. All postal carriers are.
I'm really shaking, Cliff.
What are you going to do, speed sort me?
Hey, are you two fighting over me?
Oh, no. I've broken up a wonderful friendship
because I was selfishly thinking of nothing
but my own burning womanly needs.
I hate myself.
Now, this has gone on long enough.
If I may intercede, you are mistaken.
Two men were about to have a fight over you.
Now, that should show you that you're worth having.
You don't have to settle. You can pick and choose.
You can be selective.
You can go out with who you want to go out with.
Who are you, and why are you so damned handsome?
You're settling again.
Oh. I guess you're right.
Now, you see, of course, in case of someone like me,
I see how you wouldn't think it was settling...
Oh, no, you're right. I can do better.
Good luck, babe.
I can do better than you.
No, I could never do better than you.
Doris! What's happened to you?
You weren't like this when you worked for me.
Well, I was different then.
I was somebody. I was Mr. Peterson's secretary.
What am I now?
Wait a minute. What if you came back to work for me?
What if I hired you again?
Mr. Peterson, please don't taunt me this way.
No, I'm serious.
I would hire you. We miss you at the office.
I mean, business has fallen off these...
...seven hours since you've been gone, terribly.
Oh, Mr. Peterson, I gladly accept your offer.
- Thank you. - Great, great.
But I think you should know
I have a rule about romance in the workplace.
Yeah, sure. Anything you say. What?
I don't fish off the company pier.
That's okay, Doris. This company doesn't have a pier.
I think I handled that one rather well, don't you, Wood?
Could I have a celebratory beer, please?
- Handled it, my foot! - What?
You mean to tell me you're gonna pay that girl week after week
just to stop following you and watching your every move,
interrupting your beer drinking?
Come on, Frase, this is nothing. I bought Vera a house.