All language subtitles for Cheers.S01E12.The.Spy.Who.Came.in.for.a.Cold.One.1080p.BluRay.FLAC2.0.H.264-BTN_track4_[eng]

- Evening, everybody.
- Norm!

Norman.

What's new, Norm?

Most of my wife.

Norm, I thought you were going up
to Maine for the holidays with Vera.

- Yeah, I am, Coach.
- So, what happened?

Nothing, nothing.
Vera drove up last night

and I had to stick around
for an interview today, so...

I'm gonna drive up tonight.

She left me the directions here.

Should have no trouble
finding the place.

Getting away, eh, Norman?

Yeah.

Yeah, we got just the two of us.

Oh, there are big trees up there,
you know.

Got a frozen lake...

...one radio station.

That sounds very romantic, Norman.

Yeah. Yeah, it does, doesn't it?

Where can a guy go
for a good time around here?

Enjoy.

Norman. Norman.

No, hey, wait, wait.
Pal, pal, please. I can't...

I can't do that to the Navy.

Hey, if you're in the mood for gum,
I can get you a fresh stick.

Actually, I was looking for bugs.

Try the blond girl's hair.

Say, you're from England, huh?

How'd you guess?

Well, because you sound smart
even when you say stupid things.

I hope you won't think me
presumptuous...

...but dark, exotic women like you
bring a fever to my blood.

Wow, classy.

My name is Carla.
What can I get you?

How do you do, Carla?

My name's Eric Finch.

- Gin and bitters will do.
- Okay.

You know, you have
an interesting profile.

- What?
- Neapolitan, right?

That's right. My grandfather
was from Naples.

So we have an interesting
saying in my business,

"Giving your heart
to a Neapolitan girl is like

forgetting to burn your codebook."

Oops. Blast.

Now I've bloody well done it.

- You're not a spy or anything like--?
- Quiet, please.

Please, don't say anything more.
You might put my life in jeopardy.

- You see that man there?
- Yeah.

He might be the secret agent from
some foreign country's intelligence.

I'd hate to live there.

Hey, all right. All right,
here's a little-known fact.

- Your smartest animal...
- Yeah?

...is the pig.

- Oh, no, dolphin.
- What? Hey, they look pretty stupid.

- I'm telling you, your average oinker.
- Yeah?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Scientists say
if a pig had thumbs and a language,

he could be trained to do
simple manual labor.

You mean, they'd be part of
the work force?

Yeah, yeah, they'd give you
20, 30 years of loyal service,

then at their retirement dinner,
you could eat them.

- All right.
- No, for me the smartest animal

- is a pigeon.
- What?

A thousand cars on the turnpike,
they find mine.

No, I have to give my vote
to the ants.

- Oh, how do you figure that?
- You ever see those farms they build?

- Oh, yeah.
- They build those things without plans.

To ants. For all you do,
this one's for you.

Hey, Coach, who do you say
is the smartest animal?

I gotta say Francis, the talking mule.

No, Coach, I don't think
you're catching on here.

There was a real guy
talking for that mule.

It wasn't so much that he could talk,
it was what he said, right, Coach?

Yeah, that's right. And it was a lot better
than that drivel that Mr. Ed was giving us.

- Good point.
- Hey, Sam? A gin and bitters.

Hey, everybody, come here.

Don't anybody look suddenly,

but there is a guy sitting over there
who's a secret agent.

- Oh, that's ridiculous.
- Come on. Really?

Thanks for being so cool.

- You mean, like a spy or something?
- You mean, like James Bond?

Hey, Norm, Jack, come on.
Stakeout time here.

- What makes you think that?
- Well, he kind of opened up to me.

I was sitting there talking to him,
and he said he thinks I'm sexy.

They're trained to lie.

You know, Diane, he just got back
from Ankara,

and he says that I'm cuter than any
of the Bulgarian girls he saw there.

Well, I'm not surprised.
Ankara is in Turkey.

Great. I really wanted to know that.

Another fascinating fact
from the answer geek.

What's the matter with her?

Why are you always doing that?
You're always correcting people.

- No, I'm not.
- Oh, I stand corrected.

- Oh, come on, that doesn't count.
- I'm wrong again, Coach.

All I said was it doesn't sound like
he knows what he's talking about.

Who in the world would make
the mistake of thinking that Ankara

- is in Bulgaria?
- Well, Francis wouldn't.

If you're a spy, then how come you're
sitting with your back to the door?

Because I can see the door
reflected in your beautiful eyes.

That old line.

Your eyes remind me of an etching
that I once bought in Norway.

I paid 200 guilders for it.

The currency in Norway is the krone.

- Oh, Diane.
- If you have a license to kill,

can I use it a second?

- She's right.
- She is?

Of course. That's how we broke down
Norway's economic system.

By infiltrating the government
with foreign currency.

- Is that right?
- Oh, Diane?

In that way, we undermined
the people's confidence

in their totalitarian regime.

Norway doesn't have
a totalitarian regime.

Hey! Get it over here!

Pardonnez-moi, I believe
my employer craves a word.

- You bellowed?
- Yes. Yeah, I did.

What are you trying to do?

I don't believe that guy is a spy
for one minute. I think he's lying.

What? A customer in a bar
is telling tall tales

just to impress a cocktail waitress?
Call 60 Minutes.

All right.

When you put it that way.
The thing is--

Look, look, listen.

Why do you suppose people come
to bars in the first place, huh?

Oh, let me take a wild stab at that one.
Perchance to drink?

Wrong. Wrong.
They could do that at home.

They come here to shoot off
their mouths and to get away with it.

Listen, in this bar, everybody gets
to be a hero. Now, what's the harm?

Sam, any kind of lie
is eventually destructive.

I was raised and educated
to prize truth above all else.

This from a woman wearing
rubber eyelashes and a padded bra.

- Oh, that's a lie.
- I'm gonna need some proof.

Look. Look, all I'm saying
is that if this guy

wants to be a spy, humor him,
indulge him a little bit.

- Sam...
- Now, come on, what's the big deal?

- Okay, okay, he's a spy.
- There you go.

Excuse me.

Carla here, she inadvertently blew
your cover before...

Oh, boy.

So I understand
you're in the spy game, huh?

Yes. Sir, what's it like to be a spy?

We swear, not a word you say will
ever go beyond this room, right?

We never go beyond this room.

Can I really trust you chaps?

Oh, yeah. Sure, trust us.
Hey, all right, everybody swear.

- Yeah, we swear.
- Cross my heart.

What you've got to understand

is that we're not all like what
we're portrayed in the cinema.

We don't think of ourselves as heroes.
We're just out there doing a job.

Putting our lives on the line
for democracy.

Hey, tell us about your most
hair-raising mission, huh?

Yeah, you ever get betrayed
in the sack by a Russian babe?

Let me tell you something
about Russian women.

The cold weather makes them
very passionate.

Lake Wannamucca, here I come.

You asked me about
my most exciting adventure.

I think of Romania, 1973.

Yes, I was captured by
the dreaded RPB.

The "ripba."

They're every bit as fiendish
as you've heard.

They even used the infamous
twister on me, the devils.

- Wait, what's the twister?
- It's a ride at Coney island.

Those animals.

Hey, Diane, why don't
you just shut up, huh?

Carla, he's been lying to you.

- Okay?
- No, he hasn't.

You are not a history expert.
You majored in poetry.

Tell her you haven't been lying, Eric.

Hey, tell her you
haven't been lying, Eric.

She's absolutely right.

You mean, you've been lying
the whole time?

The whole time.

Let me get this straight here.

Cold weather does not
make women passionate?

I'll see Vera in the spring,
what the hell.

Why did you lie to us?

Because...

...my life is...

... very unexciting and it's very dull.

I've been a failure at everything
I've ever tried to do.

But, you know,

sometimes, late at night,
in a friendly bar,

I sometimes can make someone
believe that I'm interesting.

But you're much too smart for me.

You don't need any illusions.

Good night, miss.

Before you say anything,

I would just like you to know
that I could not feel any worse

than I do at this very moment.

So sorry.

I forgot the tip.

Merry Christmas.

Wrong again.

Failed, I blew it. I quit.

I don't belong in a place like this,
and there's no point in arguing.

Who's arguing?

I am opinionated, I am stubborn,
I am smug.

A little louder. They can't hear you
in the back room.

I wouldn't have believed it, but I'm
a total washout as a cocktail waitress.

- I don't belong here.
- Stay in touch, kid.

- Carla.
- Diane. Diane, please, listen.

I don't know exactly
what's going on here,

but it looks like you booted
a grounder, right?

- Right.
- You know what I used to say

to one of my ballplayers
when he made a mental error?

- What?
- Nothing. That's why I got fired.

Diane, come back. Wait,
come back here. Come back here.

Look, you made a mistake,
that's all. Now make up for it.

Go find the poor guy.
Bring him back here and apologize.

Well, that's a wonderful idea,

but I wouldn't know
where to begin to look for him.

Well, I think your British Embassy
could probably help you there.

Yeah, I've got a pretty good ear
for dialects,

and my instincts tell me limey.

His name is Eric Finch.

All right, I'll do it.

I am going to comb this city.

I'll look everywhere.
Every hotel, every restaurant,

every cheap dive. I'm going to find
this man or die trying.

Excuse me.

Look who's back.

I...

I just came back to try and explain
to you why I did what I did.

- No, come on.
- Don't be silly.

Yes, Mr. Finch, come on, will you?

Everybody in the bar
exaggerates a little.

Sure. For example,
I'm not really this good-looking.

Come on, everybody in bars
tell stories.

You just got a little carried away there,
that's all.

- That's right.
- I'm afraid I'm the victim

of a sort of over active imagination.

You see, when you spend
12 hours a day

in a room alone writing,
writing, writing, you...

Sometimes you just lose touch
with reality.

So I'm awfully sorry,
and I beg your pardon and good night.

No, no, no. You write?

Yes. Mostly verse.

- Farewell.
- Wait, you write poetry?

I'd love to hear some.

We all would.

- Oh, yes, yes.
- Yes, absolutely.

You know, it's not often we have a guy
in here who can write poetry.

We got a guy in the men's room, Sam,
that writes some terrific stuff.

- Gin and bitters, right?
- Yes. Thank you very much.

- Are you published?
- Oh, no, no.

I don't even send my stuff in.
I'm not really very good.

Oh, don't be silly. You let me be
the judge of that. I majored in poetry.

I thought you majored in philosophy.

No, it was psychology, but that was
before literature and after French.

No, no, no that was after art history.

And before anthropology.

Oh, no, no, we're forgetting
Indian studies here.

- And Manchurian folk dancing.
- All right.

At any rate, I would love to see
some of your work.

Well, I just don't have anything
with me at the moment except

- it's all in here. And here.
- I must hear one.

- Really?
- Yes.

All right, well, I'll try something.
Let's see, how did that go?

She I love (alas in vain!)

Floats before my slumbering eyes

And when she comes
She lulls my pain

And when she goes
What pangs arise

- My God, that's lovely.
- I kind of liked it.

- What do you think there, Sir Norm?
- I think it'll look great up on the tiles.

Mr. Finch, I am awestruck.

- Me too. It's great.
- Please, tell us more.

Well, maybe not so soon
after the first one.

Give us a little chance to rub down
the goose bumps.

This is a night I will never forget.

It so happens that I am
on speaking terms

with one of the poetry editors
at The Atlantic Monthly.

- Really?
- Yes, he spoke at my college once.

I'm going to call him
and tell him about you.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Hey, aren't you getting
a little carried away here?

May I have the phone?
Yes. And loving it.

Humoring the guy is one thing.

I mean, he can have all the fantasies
he wants in my bar,

but don't you think you're going
a little too far to make him feel good?

Sam, the poem that he wrote
is excellent.

Scratch a liar, find a poet.

No, no, no. So he memorized one.
What's that prove?

Sam, we are now
in my area of expertise.

When we want to talk about poetry,
we come to me.

When we want to talk about jock itch,
we come to you.

Don't say that.

Yes, may I speak to him, please?
This is Diane Chambers.

He's chatting with John Updike?

Well, interrupt.

No, I'm not kidding. I have something
that is going to make John Updike

seem like pretty small pommes de terre.

- Diane, I wouldn't do this if I were you.
- Yes, I'll wait.

Would you leave me alone, please?

Mr. Finch, he really should hear this
directly from you.

Will you come over, please?

What is your best work?

Well, there's a little something
that I dashed off this morning

- I'm sort of proud of.
- Wonderful.

Yes, hello,
my name is Diane Chamber--

Yes, I know you're very busy, but
I have a wonderful surprise for you.

Please, will you just listen
for a moment?

First alert, Cliff ie.
Strap yourself in, pal.

Dive! Dive!

Excuse me, we are about
to make literary history here.

Hello?

My heart is like a singing bird

Whose nest is in the watered shoot

Now that's a poet.

Thank you.
My heart is like an apple tree

Whose bough is bent
With thickset fruit

- My heart is like a rainbow shell
- My heart is like a rainbow shell

- That paddles on a halcyon sea
- That paddles in a halcyon sea

My heart is gladder than
All these things

Because my love
Has come to me

The nuns taught us that in school.
I get tears just remembering.

- No fooling? Tears?
- Yeah. They used to whack us with their beads.

Yes, Rossetti, you're right.

Thank you for settling
that bet, wonderful.

Now, to whom could I speak
about a subscription I--?

I don't believe this guy. I mean,
you cannot believe a word

that comes out of his mouth.

You know, if you could fix TVs
and crack walnuts on your forehead,

you could be my ex-husband.

Mr. Finch, or whatever, I don't know
what your real story is

and believe me, the last thing
I want is for you to tell me.

But I want to thank you
for entertaining us here tonight.

I'm really glad you came.

Thank you very much, Sam.

My real name
is Thomas Hilliard III.

Well, whatever.

You know, you have
a very charming saloon here.

Well, thank you. I'm glad you like it.

And to show you how much I like it,

I'd like to buy it.

How much is it worth to you, Sam?

This guy's not gonna give up. Wait,
wait, wait. Let me guess, let me guess.

You are an eccentric millionaire
who hangs around bars

and tells stories about himself just so
he can have fun with the people, right?

Kind of like Howard Hughes,
eh, Mr. Hilliard?

Please don't mention that name.
He died owing me money.

You...

- Well, Sam, how much?
- Well, gee, this is kind of sudden.

Let's see, I guess what, 20, 30 people
come through the doors every night.

One million dollars seems fair to me.

- You've got it.
- Hey, hey, Sammy,

- I think you're forgetting the jukebox.
- He's right. I'm sorry. Two million.

I think you're taking advantage
of me, Sam.

Hey, look at me, everybody.
Scratch a bartender, find a millionaire.

- This is not funny anymore.
- Oh, stop it.

I was right about him from the start.
He's a sick, sick man

with a very warped sense of humor.
He doesn't care who he hurts.

I won't take it anymore.

- He's a pathological liar.
- Oh, Diane, that's silly.

Excuse me, Mr. Hilliard.

Oh, my...

...God.

I just wanted to let you know
I'm here with the car.

Thank you, Robert. I'm ready to go.

I'm sorry we couldn't
do business, Sam.

A million and a half,
and I'll throw in a blond waitress.

Those papers you've been waiting
for have arrived from Geneva, sir.

Good, I'll sign them on the plane.

- Hey, get that piece over there.
- I got it, I got it.

Oh, Sam. Will you ever be able
to forgive me?

Oh, come on.
I'd never sell this place.

- Hey, I got the date.
- Wait a minute, this is a decimal point.

I've never felt so abused.
I was wrong every step of the way.

I thought he was lying
when he was telling the truth.

I thought he was telling the truth
when he was lying.

From now on I will not believe anything
anybody says on any subject.

Oh, come on, you don't mean that.
You serious?

You bet I am.

You know, I think I'm falling
in love with you.

Really?