Original subtitles

Cheers is filmed before a live studio audience.

Sam!

Ha! Doug Aducci!

Hey, guys, look at this, it's Doug Aducci,

one of the best damn umpires in the American League.

And Sam here was one of the best, uh...

groomed pitchers in the American League.

Sit down here. I can't believe this.

Last time I saw this guy, we were playing the Yankees.

You were behind the plate.

Ninth inning, I was on the mound, up by one.

He calls ball four on Munson,

next guy up is Chambliss, knocks one right out of the park.

Not that I care, man, but, you know, that was a strike.

If I called it a ball, it was a ball, Sam.

It was right at the knees.

Must have been low.

No! No, man, you gave me the same pitch on Roy White.

That was 1975, Sam, it's over.

The point is that Chambliss should never have come up.

Look, Malone, I said it was over!

All I'm asking, Aducci, if that's your real name

is that you be consistent for God's sake.

I mean, it was my livelihood.

That's enough, Malone! Go get my drink.

- Get your own drink! - What?

You heard-- what, are you hard of hearing, too?

- That's it! You're outta here! - You'd throw me out for that?

Take a hike, Malone, right now!

I'll take a hike, but not before I do this!

You stupid... I can't believe it!

Eh, it may have been a strike.

I was going through a divorce that year.

Morning, everybody.

Norm!

- Hey, Mr. Peterson, what's up? - The warranty on my liver.

Oh, Sammy,

this town is going down the tubes, I tell you.

Why do you say that?

Well, they're installing parking meters up there.

You'll have to carry a big pocketful of change.

It's going to ruin the line of my pants.

I'll have to go up there every two hours,

feed the damn meter.

You want me to tell you when two hours is up, Mr. P?

No, I'll know, Woody.

Every 87 sips.

I don't accept that, Frasier. This shouldn't be happening.

Lilith, I warned you on the night that we conceived Little Frederick

that raising a child would not be all roses and rainbows.

No, as I recall,

the exact words you uttered that night were,

"Who cares about the next 20 years?

Let's get nasty."

It's just like you to miss the inner meaning.

You guys okay?

We've just received some very sobering news.

You're gonna have to feed that meter just like everybody else, Dr. Crane.

Yes, Woody.

Well, the other thing that has us so distraught

is our son's development.

Frederick is nearly a year old and has yet to speak his first word.

Since we were both so concerned,

we decided to have our little man evaluated

by a colleague who specializes in child development.

Oh, what did he say?

He confirmed our worst fears.

Frederick is...

average.

Goodness!

It's not funny.

Oh, really, Lilith,

you didn't expect any sympathy here in Mayberry, did you?

Frasier, two people as gifted as we are

were never meant to have an average baby.

It's so unjust.

Well, it's not the end of the world, my love.

So he won't be as erudite as his parents.

He can still lead a happy, normal life

like the rest of these people.

And the new record, 53!

- It's your fault, Lilith! - What?

Yes! Obviously, you have an inferior gene pool!

Me?

Well, I didn't have a grandfather who was a butter-and-egg man in New Jersey!

Mother warned me.

You'd say you love me, but sooner or later, you'd bring that up.

Lilith... Lilith, I'm sorry.

My grandfather wasn't even in America at that time.

If he had been, he wouldn't be hawking butter and eggs.

Hi, guys.

- Hey. - Hey.

Oh, hi, Miss Howe.

You got a letter here from Mr. Colcord.

Oh, thanks, Woody.

It smells like cinnamon.

Yeah, Robin's working in the bakery now.

They put him in charge of sticky buns.

So what's the word from our man in the pokey?

"Dear Rebecca,

I miss you very much.

The days go by so slowly here.

I lie on my cot and dream about your..."

Dream about your what?

Face. My smile.

My pleasant demeanor.

Come on, what does it say?

You guys, this is private.

I don't want to read it to you.

I'd be happy with just the verbs.

Hey, get a load of this pencil sketch of her demeanor.

Come on, Carla.

How can life be so unfair?

They put this sweet, wonderful, dirty man behind bars...

without conjugal visits.

Three years I saved myself for a man,

and what did I end up with?

A two-month window of sex.

You know, when my brother was in the army,

he used to visit Amsterdam all the time.

He said they have a window of sex on every block.

Yeah...

I saved the letters. You might like them, Miss Howe.

No thanks, Woody.

Okay, Miss Howe.

No hurry on those letters, Mr. Clavin.

Frasier, would you like to hear my theory

as to why Frederick is not progressing

as well as he should?

Something tells me I wouldn't, my love.

Woody, two more drinks, please.

It's both our fault.

We don't spend enough time with him.

We're too busy with our careers.

He's being raised by a housekeeper.

There's no consistency in his life.

I agree, Lilith. As you know, we rarely agree, as you're a behavior a list

and I'm a strict Freudian,

but it does make for some hot, angry sex

in the boudoir, I don't have to tell you.

I wish you hadn't.

Let's face facts.

We should let the housekeeper go.

One of us should be with our child at all times.

The only question is, which one?

Well, you, of course.

Why me, of course? Because I'm the woman?

Why is the man's work automatically more important?

I'm making great breakthroughs in my current research project.

Yes, well, damn me to an eternity driving a Yugo,

but I make more money than you.

I write more books in one year than you read, Frasier.

Yes, well, I have many degrees!

I'll settle this.

Let's pick an arbitrary way to make the decision.

All right, whoever has the most freckles on their arm

stays home with the baby.

I think that's an excellent way to choose.

Oh, you would say that, you have no pigmentation in your skin.

For God's sake, what are we arguing about,

who should stay home with our child?

It's not a punishment, it's an honor.

I'd love to. I'd be delighted to stay home

and nurture my child.

Oh, Lilith, you role-play the mother so well.

If we can't make a commitment to be with our child at all cost,

- who can? - I agree.

The most important thing is to be with Frederick during his formative years.

Say, I have a thought.

In celebration of this realization, we'll have dinner together tonight,

just the two of us.

And Frederick.

Of course.

Oh-- oh! Did you want to come?

Afternoon again, everybody.

- Norm! - Norm!

What'll you have this time, Norm?

A cow if I have to climb those stairs one more time.

I am sick of this.

Every two hours, it's up the stairs

and down to the corner,

over to the meter, put the coin, down the stairs...

At least you're getting exercise, huh, Mr. P?

I get my exercise, Woody.

What, do you think I just hop off the bar stool

and bam, there's the bathroom?

Not at all. It's way down the hall, Woody.

Hey, Rebecca,

totaled up those receipts from last night?

Rebecca!

Huh?

Receipts.

Oh, no.

It's 3:00. What have you been doing all day?

I've been writing this reply to Robin's letter.

Hey, come--hey write that on your own time, will you?

For goodness sake, How you going to get work done

if all you do is think about sex?

I don't know, Sam. How do you do it?

I'm a boy. That's my job.

Fine. I'll get your receipts.

Hey, Sam, don't you think you were a little tough on Miss Howe?

I mean, she's hardly ever happy.

So what if she was late totaling up some dumb old receipts?

Maybe you're right. Maybe I was a little tough on her.

Sam, is this all the vermouth we have?

Rebecca's supposed to order some more.

She probably forgot.

Well, now that's just tops.

Hey, Miss Howe,

you were supposed to order more vermouth!

We pay you for an eight-hour day!

We expect eight hours!

Sometimes I wonder, Sam. What are they thinking?

Good afternoon, everyone.

Sam, just a quick iced tea.

I've got my obsessive-compulsive group to preside over.

You can imagine how punctual they are.

What time does it start?

Well, now.

Boy, the next 15 minutes are really going to drive them bonkers,

But that's exactly what they need.

Dr. Crane, I've got some messages here from Mrs. Dr. Crane.

Yes, Woody.

She called to say she thinks Freddy might have a diaper rash

and she can't find the A & D Ointment.

And then she called back to say she found the ointment,

but would it be better to use talcum powder?

And then she called back to say never mind,

she's just going to leave the diaper off

and let Freddy air out his little bottom.

And then she called one last time to ask where the carpet cleaner is.

Oh, my God.

Everything okay?

Oh, everything's fine, Sam.

We just made one horrible mistake.

What's that?

We left the child alone with its mother.

Carla, you got a minute?

What do you need, Becks?

I'm trying to write an appropriate reply to Robin's letter.

Well, I don't seem to be able to express myself.

You want to send a "Smut-O-Gram."

And I was wondering if you could you help me

since you're the closest thing to a sailor I know.

Step into my office

and rejoice in the filth.

All right. So this is what I've got so far.

"Dear Robin,

I am writing you this letter while lying naked in the tub."

Let me just stop you right there.

I'm writing you this letter while lying naked on my kitchen table.

That is good.

Well, there's a lot more depth to me

than just being a waitress, you know.

Okay. "Just thinking of you makes me hot."

Oh, no. No. No.

Not hot.

- Write this. - Okay.

I'm on fire.

"Fire."

I'm churning. I'm burning.

I want something, anything.

I reach for a piece of fruit,

an orange...

ripe...

orange...

Big and sweet.

I peel back the skin,

slowly my fingernails tear into the pulp.

The juice runs down my--

You know, that orange isn't going to work

because the juice burns his ulcers.

Oh, God.

Look, if you're not going to get into the spirit of soft porn,

just forget about it.

No, Carla, you're right.

I know. who am I fooling?

I can't write this stuff.

Besides, what good is a dirty letter?

Just fun words on a piece of paper.

You know, you're right. you need your man.

We got to sneak you into that prison

so you can get what you need.

Oh, that's a great idea.

- Yeah, let's go. - Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

I don't know which cell is Robin's.

How will we find him?

It has to be Robin?

There's lots of guys in there.

You might find someone you like better.

Come on.

It's a minimum security prison.

How hard could it be?

I mean, you're allowed to visit him anytime you want, right?

Yeah.

So what you do is you find some secluded spot.

Oh, you know, the garden area's usually deserted.

Great. Great. I'll stand watch.

You can stay with him as long as you want.

Oh, it shouldn't take long. He's English.

Sam, we're going to be gone for a couple of hours.

Girl stuff.

Girl stuff. Why do they always say that?

What does that mean?

Oh, Sam, I didn't want to know that.

Greetings, all.

The boys are out for an adventure.

I'm glad to see you guys.

Has the little dude said his first word yet?

Well, I thought so, but then I checked my unabridged Oxford English Dictionary

and I was unable to find the word "gak."

Sam, may I have a beer, please?

And could you warm up this formula for my little angel?

Pipe down! You saw me give the bottle to Sam!

Does water just boil instantly? No!

He'll warm it, then you'll get it!

And it'll be yum, yum, yum.

So, uh, going a little rough there, Dr. Mom?

Well, let's just say that since I have become

the primary care giver to Frederick, I have a new-found respect for those

who decide to stay home and dedicate their lives

to the raising of their children.

I have also realized that if I were to do it

for any amount of time, you would soon hear stories

of me sitting naked in a tower with a high-powered rifle.

Well, uh...

See, as a rule, your psycho killers don't have families.

Nah, they're loners.

They may have jobs, they're good to their mothers,

but by and large, they sit alone at night in a dark room,

writing their depraved thoughts in a diary.

Cliff ie, you keep a diary, don't you?

I, uh, keep a journal, Norm.

A journal!

So, does Lilith know you guys are over here?

Oh, yes. Of course, Sam.

I told her that I was just taking our 11-month-old baby out for a tall one.

The irony is I got myself into this pickle.

I convinced Lilith that with my background and clinical skills,

I should be the one to take primary care of the child, not her.

Naturally, she took it personally.

I was somehow denigrating her competency as a mother.

Boy, look cross-eyed at a woman these days...

So she does know you're here?

Well, no. I didn't fill her in on our itinerary

for the entire day.

But she won't question my judgment.

I have assumed complete responsibility for the child.

I see no problem with him being in this environment.

Hey, look, with a cigar in his hand, he looks just like Baby Herman.

If Lilith calls...

we're not here.

Your Colcord should be out here.

Oh, my God. the whole prison's here.

What's going on?

It's one of our inmate's birthdays, Congressman Bailor.

He's hosting a little barbecue for the men.

He's from Texas, you know.

Oh, Man. I don't think I can go through with this here.

The thought of a lot of people being a few feet away

and somebody could discover us at any minute.

You're saying that like it's a bad thing.

Part of me wants to stay here

and the other part of me wants to run.

All of me wants to strip down,

lay on the grass, and yell, "fumble."

All right.

I've come this far.

It wasn't the bad investments that ruined my S & I,

it was the free checking accounts.

Robin.

Rebecca, what a surprise.

Hello. Have you met the boys?

No, but I've seen all of you on TV.

Boys, would you excuse us for a moment?

Darling.

Robin, I got your letter.

I hope I didn't go too far.

Did you mean everything you said?

Every word and those little drawings in the margin.

Then I've got a surprise for you.

Becca, wait, um...

there's a party going on here.

Darling...

Rebecca. but, darling, darling--

No, no, no.

- We can't. We can't. - No, it's okay.

It's okay. No one will see.

Carla's right over there on the other side standing guard.

Settle down, boys. Settle down.

Darling. Darling, darling. Look, you know,

you know I want you more than anything, but we just can't take the chance.

Why?

I can be quiet.

No, no, no. No, it's not that.

I'd feel insulted if you were,

but I just got wonderful news.

I'm up for early parole next month.

See, so I can't do anything that would jeopardize that.

And this is one of the few rules.

And, you know, while I burn for you,

I must adhere to it, or I'll be here for another year.

Now, you do understand that, don't you?

Sure I do.

You don't want to be in jail for another year.

Well, what about my needs?

Carla, we're out of here!

Gee whiz, Cliff.

Why don't you give it up? It's been an hour.

Let's let Frederick have a chance.

If he wants to play with it, let him ask me himself.

Cliff, you know he can't speak yet.

And what a cruel irony that you can.

Norm...

5:00. Time to feed the meter.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

I have had it, Sam.

No more of this climbing up the stairs every two hours.

You're not leaving me for another bar, are you?

Oh, no. I'm going to sell my car.

5:00 already? We've been here all day.

Time to get the little guy home, huh, Dr. Crane?

Well, Lilith doesn't get home until 6:00...

Say, darts, anyone?

Yeah, sure.

Cliff, you coming?

Yeah, I'll be right there.

Dammit, this thing's harder than the civil service exam.

What a waste.

Not for me.

I got 15 dates lined up.

Of course, none of them start for a year.

I got no romance, no satisfaction, no nothing.

Come on, you don't have nothing.

You got a purse full of ribs.

What?

Sure. I took the liberty of filling you up.

The sauce is in the change compartment.

Hey, cheer up.

He said he'll be out in a couple of months.

Yeah, sure. So what am I supposed to do until then?

Tell you what...

There's, uh, some construction workers down the street.

What about you and I go cruising?

No, I can't cheat on Robin.

Man, I thought we were going to be close.

Well, Maybe it wouldn't hurt if we just...

paraded around them and frustrated them a little bit.

There you go.

- Let's do it. - All right.

Let's spread the pain around.

Where you guys going?

Girl stuff.

Hello, Sam.

Hey, Lilith.

Query.

If I had a problem and needed to talk to someone about it,

would it be perpetuating a stereotype

to actually select a bartender?

Well, that depends.

On what?

On what you just said.

I feel like a failure.

A failure as a mother, ergo as a woman and a person.

Do you make a drink for failures here at Cheers?

Hold on a sec. Phil, what are you drinking?

- A Manhattan. - Manhattan.

You know...

Sweetheart, I'd bet my bottom dollar that you're a pretty good mom.

Yes, well, considering that endorsement comes from a perennial Peter Pan

with no sense of maturity or obligation,

you'll excuse me if I don't leap over the bar, embrace you,

and say, "really, Sam, you think so?"

Well, glad I could be there for you.

I'm sorry.

Perhaps I'm just bitter because Frasier is succeeding with our son

where I failed.

He is indeed a better influence on my precious baby.

Hey, guess what, everybody.

Little Frederick beat Cliff at darts!

Frasier!

Uh-oh.

What are you doing here?

I didn't give my son to you

so you could run off and spend the day in a bawdy house!

Yes, well, my little chopped salad,

I mean, we just got here, what, 10 minutes ago.

You're lying.

Well, yes, I'm lying.

But I thought that Frederick might enjoy himself.

Enjoy himself in a bar?

He's 11 months old.

What kind of values can he learn here?

Well, I thought the place had a lot to offer.

Oh, please. He'll never learn to speak in this environment.

Afternoon, everybody.

Norm!

He said, "Mommy!"