Original subtitles

Ooh, slow down.

Hey, Daphne, guess what Eddie ate in the park today?

Uh, let's see. A hot dog wrapper.

Nope. Guess again.

A cigarette butt. Nope. Guess again.

Apple car?

Nope. Guess again.

Oh, really? Must you two play this ridiculous game?

She makes some feeble stab and you say, no, guess again.

Then she starts flailing away with even more ludicrous answers, all the while

you chanting, guess again, till she's gibbering like some...

auctioneer with a bad bladder.

And you finally reveal the answer, at which point nobody even cares.

I'm not sure which one of us got the worst of that, but I think it was you.

Guess again.

Niles, there's a half-eaten lizard in your elevator.

And that's the last hint you're getting.

Oh, Fraser.

I had a breakthrough today with one of my compulsive gamblers, and he gave me

two tickets to the racetrack on Saturday. It's a luxury box I thought

you might want to go. I would love to, Niles. Why don't you want to use them?

Well, the jockeys, if you must know.

What?

Diminutive, underweight figures in expensive silks wielding riding crops.

It just reminded me too much of Maris.

Dad, what about you? I've never known you to turn down the horses. Oh, sorry.

I got poker with the guys.

Oh, well, then, I'll just call one of my friends.

Jeez, this is sort of embarrassing.

The first three names on my list, they're all back in Boston.

What about someone from your wine club?

Oh, well, truth be told, Daphne, those people are insufferable boys unless they

have a glass in their hands. Sherry, now, please.

Oh, I know. How about Ed O'Hanlon?

Uh, moved away last year.

Oh, oh, how about...

Edmund Kelly. If I know old Ed, he'd never leave Seattle.

Indeed not. They buried him here three years ago.

Dear me, really. Well, I'll miss him. Yes.

Three years from now, when you think of him again, there'll be a void.

My God, how did this happen? I've been back here for two years. I've yet to

forge any new friendships.

Well, you better watch it, Frazier.

Next thing you know, you're going to be like one of these old people who are so

set in their ways that...

They're only happy hanging around with people who are the same as they are.

What exactly is your point, Dad?

I've lost my knack for making friends?

Well, I hate to bring it up, but you never were very good at it.

It was always you and Niles ever since you were kids.

The two of you always holed up in that damn garage, at least until you burned

it down.

You burned down the garage?

Well... With Frasier and his Bunsen burner and me and my mosquito repellent.

In retrospect, it was unavoidable.

Still, you know, Dad, I did have friends in college and then back in Boston.

It's only since I moved to Seattle that I started falling back on Niles.

Ooh, falling back on Niles.

Oh, Niles, you know what I mean. Settling for what's comfortable and

familiar. My God, you and I can go out together and I know what you're thinking

before you even say it. Well, then I'm sorry you had to hear that, Frasier.

You know what? This would make a wonderful topic for my show.

Making new friends.

What are we so afraid of? Why do you make everything so complicated?

You want to meet somebody new, you just walk up to him, stick out your hand and

say, hi, how you doing? Thank you, Dad. I can always count on you not to

overthink something.

Thanks.

Hey!

So why is it we have so much trouble making friends?

Is it because we've become closed off?

No longer want to reach out to our fellow man?

Well, I'd like to think that if one of you listeners out there happened to see

me on the street, you'd feel free to walk right on up to me and... Excuse me,

Dr. Crane. We have to stop for a very important public service announcement.

Have you lost your mind?

You're opening yourself up to every creep out there. Oh, Roz, that's exactly

the kind of cynicism I'm talking about. I, for one, happen to believe in the

kindness of strangers.

Well, I believe in the strangeness of strangers.

Three seconds.

Hi, we're back on the topic of friendship.

Now, let's go to the switchboard. Roz, who's on line one?

Good news, Dr. Crane. It's Gerard from Stanwood, a new friend.

Hello, Gerard. I'm listening.

Well, I call for another reason, Dr. Crane, but what you just said really

moved me.

I wish more people felt that way.

Well, thank you, Gerard.

I sense a kindred spirit.

Maybe we could get together sometime.

Have a beer.

Maybe I could, you know, comb your hair.

Well, thank you so much for your offer of friendship, George, but I really

don't have $5,000 to invest in your French fry vending machine.

And for the sake of those who do invest, I suggest, sir, that you find a better

name than the Spuddy Buddy.

This is Dr. Frasier Crane, wishing you all good mental health.

I mean that today more than ever.

I just love it when I'm right. It makes the day so good.

You stacked the deck, didn't you? Oh, please. You should have heard some of

the calls I didn't put through, let alone these faxes. Read some of these.

They're sick. Oh, Roz, my listeners are not sick.

Although this one does bear watching.

Oh, here's one that has promise. Let's see. Dear Dr. Crane, I never thought I'd

write a letter like this, but I was moved by today's show.

As a photographer, I come into contact with new people on a daily basis, yet I

often find it difficult to make that one-on-one connection.

However, your words offered hope, and I just wanted to say thank you.

Sincerely, Bob Reynolds.

That doesn't sound too whack.

No. You know what? I think I'm going to give Mr. Bob Reynolds a call. Oh, are

you nuts?

He could be a raving psychopath with a trunk full of decomposing squirrels.

Rubbish, Roz. I'm gonna call him.

By the way, where did you come up with such a disgusting image?

Meet Garth from Tacoma.

You're late today, but I'm glad you're here. I need your help.

My designer is ready to mutiny if I don't pick a fabric for my new couch.

Now, I've brought lots of swatches, so make yourself comfortable.

Frankly, Niles, I'm not here to see you.

I'm meeting a new friend.

A new friend?

Yes, well, you remember I was talking about widening my circle of friends.

Oh, I see. No more falling back on Niles.

No.

It's not that I'm trying to replace you, Niles. It's just that Bob and I... Bob?

You're dumping me for someone named Bob?

Niles, I am not dumping you. I'm just worried that Bob might feel awkward

meeting the two of us. Oh, well, we wouldn't want to make Bob feel

uncomfortable now, would we? I mean, after all, I've only been your brother

for, hmm, 38 years now.

What does that mean when there's the possibility that Bob may feel awkward?

There's a man over there who says he's waiting for you. Ah, no doubt the much

-ballyhooed Bob.

Oh, it's all right. It's all right. I'll go quietly.

Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I'll just go home to my Maris. Oh, that's

right.

Bob? Dr. Crane?

No, please. Call me Frazier. Oh, Frazier, then.

I'm glad you called. Oh, yes.

Coffee? Please, thank you.

Well, uh... So... So... So... Listen, uh,

thank you for your fax. Oh.

I listen to your show all the time. I think you're brilliant.

You're probably sick of hearing that, though, right? One would think, but it's

my cross.

That's the thing I love about your show.

You're not just serious. You can be funny.

Well, yes, I believe that humor can be a therapeutic tool.

Against the assault of laughter, nothing can stand.

Mark Twain, the mysterious stranger. I have a first edition.

I'm a collector myself.

Now, you know, I...

I was a bit trepidatious about this experiment, Bob, but I'm feeling a real

simpatico here. Yeah, me too. I'm going to go out on a limb. What do you say,

once we finish these coffees, we treat ourselves to a proper dinner? Hey, that

sounds great.

Okay. So, what are you reading?

It's my Bible.

The Big Book of Barbecue by Jeff Filgo.

He's a Texan. You know, of course all Texans think the invented barbecue.

Arrogant bastards.

You like barbecue?

Well, you know, it's a national holiday.

Fourth of July, that sort of thing.

You know the secret to good barbecue?

Mesquite. And the secret to mesquite is you gotta soak them in water for ten

minutes. On special occasions, I'll soak them in beer.

Once I soaked them in sake for that flavor of the Far East.

You know, in Japan, they call their barbecues hibachis. The arrogant

bastards.

I'm digging my own barbecue pit right now. My specialty is a Cheyenne smoking

quail. The trick is a high engulfing flame like a forest fire. Of course,

they call forest fires nature's barbecue.

You know what my co-workers call me?

Shish kebab.

Well, Bob, do you have any charcoal-free interests?

Yeah, I'm a professional photographer.

The camera never lies. Yes, no, see, I am a bit of a camera buff myself. So

what's your trade? Are you a photojournalist? I take kids' portraits

at Value Mart, where your dollar buys more.

You know what? Why don't we talk about this over dinner?

Right.

You know, Bob, about that dinner... How about Tex

-Mex, huh?

You're talking my language.

No, you don't.

I'm fixing you a breakfast drink with fresh fruit, yoghurt, carob, pitted

prunes. A healthy body makes for a sunny disposition.

You want sunny? Let me have my fritter.

There we are.

There just aren't enough drinks that build up a nice head of black foam.

Morning.

You were home late last night.

I had dinner with a new friend, Bob.

Oh, that's right.

You have a good time?

Hardly. A man talks endlessly on subjects that are of no interest to

anyone but him.

Gee. I can't imagine what that's like.

You know, Danny took me to this god-awful barbecue place. All they serve

is huge platters of charred, greasy beef.

The only sound you can hear is the gnawing of meat, the smacking of lips,

and the clatter of bones hitting the floor.

I can't take it anymore. I'm having that further.

If you don't like this man, why did you have dinner with him?

Well, I was going to tell him that I didn't want to see him anymore, but you

see, it's a bit more delicate than just that.

The problem is, he's in a wheelchair.

So what?

If you don't like him, you don't like him. Well, I know that. It's just that

I'd hate to have him think it was just because of the chair.

I have worked with the disabled for over ten years now, and if it's one thing

I've learned, they don't want special treatment.

Oh, I forgot to bring in the paper.

Daphne, would you get it? My leg's just aching and throbbing.

I'll get it.

You know, Daphne, you're right.

I was kind of a coward, wasn't I?

At least I got through the evening.

Here's your paper, buddy.

Bob, you're here.

Did we have plans?

Nope. I was in the neighborhood. Just thought I'd stop by.

Did I mention where I lived last night? I am astonishingly sure I didn't.

You'd be amazed what you can find out with computers today.

Anyway, brought bagels.

Poppy seed, pumpernickel, rye, sesame, onion, garlic. Because after all,

breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

Hey-ho, you must be Martin.

You're Daphne. That's right.

And you must be Bob. That's me, Bob.

Same backwards as forwards.

Got some messages.

Bob. Bob. Oh, look.

Here's one from Bob.

Two weeks and 45 phone calls.

Can't we just get an unlisted number?

They sort of frown on that with call-in shows.

Frazier, you've got to do something about Bob.

I know, Roz.

I'm working up to it. You know, the longer you put it off, the worse he's

going to feel when you finally tell him. Yes, I know that.

I'm a psychiatrist. I'm quite capable of dealing with difficult problems in a

sensitive and mature fashion.

Wait!

Do you hear that?

That squeak?

What squeak?

He's here.

It's Bob.

I don't hear anything.

Oh, that's right.

Only dogs and I can hear it.

Frazier, you're being paranoid.

It's the sound of his chair. I'd know it anywhere.

Oh, my God!

Hi, Bob.

Knock, knock, Ross.

Frazier, right?

Oh, you just missed him. Too bad. I got great news.

I checked out that vacancy in his apartment building and, uh, well...

Guess who's going to be neighbors.

What was that?

Feedback. This equipment's old and pathetic.

Well, maybe I can catch Frazier back at his place.

Correction, our place.

Bye, Bob.

Bye, Roz.

Okay, he's gone.

You can come out now.

No, he's not.

He's never really gone.

So Bob's going to be your new neighbor. We'll break out the butane every day

could be barbecue day.

No.

No, he is not going to move into my building. I want a lot.

I'm going to talk to him, Ross. Listen, I could use your advice. You've broken

up with a lot of people. What do you find to be the most effective thing to

say? I love you and I want to have your baby.

Good, I've got my fallback.

Oh, Miles, Miles, I need to talk.

Bob's meeting me here.

Well, this isn't my usual.

Well, it's not for you. It's for my friend.

That man is your friend?

Yep. We share thoughts, feelings, talk about the arts, current events.

Today, we're just hanging.

There you are.

Thanks. My pleasure.

You know, I can't stay long.

I've got four more pools to clean today besides yours, and I'm going to lose

sunlight.

You know, Ralph, I was thinking that in many ways my profession is a lot like

yours. I start out skimming the surface of the human psyche, and I plunge ever

deeper into the murky undercurrents, adding chemicals when necessary.

There's a lot of leaves this year.

I'm glad you called.

I'm starting to get self-conscious here.

It seems like I'm always the one calling or stopping by or suggesting dinner or

movies or shopping for hats.

Oh, hey, I got you a view.

Well, Bob, you really shouldn't have.

I knew you'd like it, neighbor.

Yes, about that, Bob. Have you actually signed a lease yet? No. Why?

Well, we need to talk.

Whoa.

If you were a woman, I'd swear you were dumping me.

Blue one's nice.

I'm just concerned that the blue might be a bit overbearing on a couch of that

size.

Although, it might complement that Killam rug I was telling you about. What

do you think?

I live in my van.

So you'll probably go for colors that add the illusion of space.

You know, Dr. Crane, to be perfectly honest, when you asked if I wanted

coffee, I thought you were going to bring me one.

Duly noted, Ralph.

Next week you can go back to drinking from the hose.

You see, I just don't think there's a basis between us for a sound friendship.

Neither of us should feel bad about it.

It's easy for you to say. You're not the one being rejected. No, no, no. I'm not

rejecting you.

Truth is, you're pleasant.

Charming... Frazier, I'm an adult here.

At least respect me enough to tell me what it is you don't like about me.

Well, all right, all right.

We have absolutely nothing in common. You talk on endlessly about subjects

that I have no interest in.

You call me all the time. Frankly, you're suffocating me.

Well, I... I don't know what to say. I wish you'd said something

sooner. I wanted to.

Frankly, I was afraid that you'd...

I think it was because of the, you know... The what?

The wheelchair.

Why would I think that?

Well, I don't know. I just wanted you to know that.

Wish it did have to do with the chair.

I beg your pardon?

Well, if the chair were your problem, that would make you a jerk. This way,

I'm the jerk.

Well, I wouldn't say that.

Come on, you just did. You just said I'm boring and obnoxious.

Who knows people better than you?

You can keep the hat.

Bob, wait.

Please,

look, I've got a level with you.

The truth is, I find nothing wrong with you.

It's just a shame to admit it, but it is the chair.

What?

I think, frankly, that you are wonderful company.

Wildly stimulating. Your hobbies are so fascinating.

And you have a sense of style that really, I mean, doesn't compare to

anyone's.

It's just me. I feel petty and small about it, but I can't get past the

chair. I'm sorry, Bob. Please.

I'm sorry. This is goodbye.

I don't believe this.

You don't want to be my friend because I'm in a wheelchair?

What?

That's the worst thing I've ever heard.

Look, you don't understand.

What's not to understand? You just said flat out, my chair repulses you.

What kind of a person does that? I've got a birthmark on my back. I guess we

can't be friends either.

People, please, you know, frankly, this doesn't concern any of you. You know,

when I think about all the gifts I gave you, all the barbecue sauce, hot and

spicy Tex-Mex.

Mesquite. Teriyaki. Honey mustard. Oh, for God's sake, Bob, put a sock in it!

We were just on our way to dinner. Would you like to join us?

I'd love to.

So, you guys like barbecue?

Yeah, who doesn't?

Are these wingtips too busy with these pants?

Well, yes, they're a bit frenzied.

Perhaps a woven lace would tone down the glitz. I might have to go overseas for

that. No, no, not at all. You can get them downtown.

Well, who shops downtown anyway? Well, I do, for one.

Hey,

baby, I hear the blues are calling.

Tossed salads and scrambled eggs.

Mercy.

And maybe I seem a bit confused.

Yeah, maybe. But I got you pegged.

But I don't know what to do with those tossed salads and scrambled eggs.

They're calling again.

Scrambled eggs all over my face.

What is it for to do?

Frasier has left the building.