Original subtitles

Cheers is filmed before a live studio audience.

Cold outside, huh?

Yes.

And we got a slush thing going.

So it seems.

- Beer nut? - No, thank you.

Have you ever been with an older man?

Woody, I'm ready to settle up.

I'm not looking for commitment.

Cold outside, huh?

Paul, what time you got?

10:36.

All right. Lunch time.

Wood, let's order, please.

Okay, what'll you guys have, Chinese, subs, cheese steak, Mexican?

Sounds good.

Wait a minute. The lunch special upstairs

at Melville's today is crab salad.

It's delicious. If you ask Mr. Hill really, really nice,

he'll give you your pick of the leftovers.

Leftovers?

Woody, why don't you just go out back and crawl through the Dumpster, huh?

What for? All he throws back there is the food that clogs up his drain.

You know, the greasy fried stuff.

Don't even think about it.

You were thinking the same thing.

Yeah, but not as long as you.

I have a problem, don't I?

What about you, Sam, you want some crab salad?

From Melville's? Forget it. I hate that guy John Hill.

I'd like to rip his head off and dribble it down Beacon Street.

Forget the crab salad, Sam.

I think you could use something with a little fiber in it.

Woody, I forbid you to eat that man's food.

Sam, it's a free lunch. You know how much I make.

I mean, I don't always have enough money for lunch,

but I do get awful hungry. Remember we had that talk

about the pretzels being just for the customers.

Go on. Get out of here, please, go eat your stupid salad.

Sam...

Just how much do you pay that boy?

I pay him a fair amount.

See, Fras, I don't think you understand that a bartender's hourly wage

is just a very small portion of his overall income.

Most of it comes from tips.

I see.

I won't bring it up again, Sam.

I think that would be best.

Hey, everybody, shut your yaps. My son has a big announcement to make.

Go on, Gino, tell them what you told me before in the car.

I said, "Ma, I think I want to be a priest."

Did you hear that? Did you hear that?

My kid is going to be a priest.

Finally, when I visit one of my kids on Sunday,

there's not gonna be an inch of glass between us.

Well, congratulations, Gino. I'm happy for you.

Happy for him? That's not enough, Sam.

This calls for a beer.

The guy's underage, Norm.

It's not for him. Can't I be happy for the lad?

Here, here you go. I'm gonna give you a little money here.

I want you to go out buy yourself some nice clothes.

I don't want God to think he's getting himself a bum.

Thanks, Ma.

Congratulations, Gino.

I think it's terrific when a young man like yourself finds his calling.

I'm happy for you.

Oh, yeah? How happy?

Why don't you show me?

You know that if you have a kid who's a priest or a nun,

you automatically get into heaven. No questions asked.

Can I get a beer, Carla?

Paul, Paul.

Isn't this great?

Right now God is shrugging and saying,

"What can I do?"

Hey, everybody. You'll all be very happy to know

that I am now a published humorist.

Wow! The Post Office Newsletter.

I hear that's tough to get into.

I'll say.

They've been after me for quite some time now,

and I finally gave them permission to print one of my "daffynitions."

All right, let's hear it.

Hey, he was going to do it anyway. Don't make me the bad guy here.

Here you go. Daffynition.

"Postal increase...

What happens to your feet after you finish your route."

Now, Lilith, you thought that was funny?

Oh, yes.

You should see her at a Marx Brothers' movie.

Isn't Zeppo hysterical?

The way he just stands there without expression or reaction.

Boy, that cracks me up.

You guys are really missing out. This crab salad looks great.

All right. Where's ours?

I thought you said you didn't want any.

I don't remember saying that. Do you?

I never said that in my life.

Come on, I thought you guys were gonna order something else.

We didn't, Woody. It's nearly 11:00.

I'm getting a little dizzy.

That does look kind of good.

I can't give you guys my food every day.

It's not every day. It's just on days I'm particularly hungry, okay?

Don't bite my head off.

I mean it. You've got that look in your eye.

- What's wrong, Sam? - I think I broke my tooth.

I don't believe it.

There's a shell in this salad.

I'm going to sue him for everything he's worth.

Great. Just when I get a little ahead in my checking account.

Not you, Woody. Hill.

You know something?

I am going to sue him. Oh, yes. Oh, yes.

And I'm going to win, too.

Here's to me.

Hey, Becs, whatcha doing?

I'm trying to get these receipts ready for income tax time.

Man, I wish people would just write the dates on these things.

Half of them I had to cross-reference against the register tape.

Took me half the night to get these organized.

Gee. Up all night? You could catch a chill.

Here, let me warm you up.

No! Don't!

Stop it!

You are evil.

That's right. All day long.

It doesn't matter because my son's good,

and I got myself a get-out-of-hell-free card.

I've been thinking about Carla's son becoming a priest.

Get this, "My son, the Father."

Get it? "My son, the Father."

That's a rich comedy area, I'm telling you.

Lord, help me, I missed the "daffynitions."

Oh, hey, do I hear a request?

Okay. Daffynition.

Psychiatrist...

...a guy who shrinks your head

and your bank account.

Yeah.

Bull's-eye.

You know, I've got enough material for an entire stand-up comedy act.

Okay, why is it that women go to a "stylist"

and men go to barbers? What's up with that?

That's so true.

I got an impersonation for you. An impression. Ready?

I am not a crook.

You guys know me. Home to see Vera.

I want to go, too, Norm. I heard so many good things.

Oh, please, don't leave me.

I was watching this commercial on TV with the Ginsu knives.

What's up with that?

I hate that commercial.

This is good stuff.

You know, she can also hear a dog whistle.

All my life I've kind of wanted to be a stand-up comedian.

How's this for an idea?

Comedy night at Cheers,

seven nights a week, six shows a night.

The cock-eyed mind of Cliff Clavin.

So you're saying it would be just like any other night,

except for the mike?

Yeah, yeah! What do you say there, Becs? Huh?

I guess you could do your comedy here, Cliff, but you know what?

Wouldn't you rather do it at a professional comedy club?

The Laff Tureen in Kenmore Square has an open-mike night.

As a matter of fact, I think it's tonight.

Hey, that's a great idea, Rebecca.

I'll just sort of spend the afternoon polishing up my act

and showcase it there tonight.

Why waste all this stuff on you guys?

See you later.

And you people think I'm so stupid.

Sam, did you see your dentist? Did you get your tooth fixed?

Yeth. Good as new.

They shoot you full of Novocain?

Yeth, but it is all wearing off now.

All right, there.

Now, here's all my receipts, and I'm ready.

Where's my calculator?

Oh, here it is.

I was just washing it off for you.

Just plug it in and start tapping away.

Carla, this is an expensive calculator.

Yeah. I'm probably going to rot in hell for that...

...not!

Ah, Miss Tortelli. Nice to see you again.

What are you doing down here, Hill?

I hope you're not here to ask me for a date.

Date? Is that what you call it?

I think we skipped dating, Miss Tortelli, and went straight to the fall of Rome.

Tell me, is the rumor true? Your son's going to be a priest?

Yeah. What of it?

I didn't realize you were Catholic.

The only time I've heard you say anything remotely religious

was that night a few weeks ago when you called me Zeus.

The hell I did.

You want me to run the video tape?

Hill.

Sam, you wanted to see me?

Yeth, I did.

What do you think that is?

Looks like some kind of animal tooth, Sam.

It's my tooth.

I broke it in your salad.

I want you to know I will see you in court.

Yes.

Good heavens, this is frightening.

I'm being sued... by Elmer Fudd.

Listen, Sam, I don't recall selling you any crab salad

and I don't recall you being in my restaurant.

What I do remember is that I gave Woody some leftovers,

and you can't sue me for that.

Incidentally, Sam, you're drooling.

That... that dwives me cwazy.

Oh, Becs, there you are. They just called for you.

Apparently there's been a horrible fire at your apartment.

Carla, you've been trying to get to me all day long.

Just knock it off. It's not funny anymore.

I'm being totally serious.

I know this is the worst time to hear this kind of news from me,

I know you don't believe me.

But really, I'm telling the truth.

I wouldn't joke about something like that.

You're serious about this, aren't you?

Yeah, I am, Becs. I'm sorry.

Oh, my God.

Everything I own...

It's gone.

Oh, dear.

Woody, cover for me, please.

I got to go out.

I'm too upset, Miss Howe.

I just found out my whole apartment building burned down.

This is sick!

Yeah, but it's funny.

Carla, you have to stop this now.

Or what, God will smite me with his sword?

He gets it halfway out,

an angel taps him on his shoulder and says, "Hold it. Her kid's a priest."

God just stands there fuming.

Hey, Ma, check it out.

Gino, what are you wearing? Isn't that a little flashy for a priest?

Oh, no, a priest? That was this morning.

I'm gonna be a male model.

I figure why waste these looks on the church?

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Carla, you've been leaping out of your skin

every time there's a clap of thunder.

Surely you know it's simply static electricity

being discharged into the atmosphere.

You are so naive.

Carla, you've got to calm down.

You don't get it. I mocked God.

It's not like getting in trouble

with your parents or your teachers or your boss.

This is God!

Famine, flood, pestilence, disease.

Who do you think came up with that?

He is just toying with me now.

You can't believe that God has a personal vendetta against you.

Look at my kids. Look at my husbands.

Look at my life. What do you think?

I don't think any major religion still propounds the theory

of a vindictive God who hurls thunder bolts

and takes personal vengeance on people's transgressions.

I believe that's for you.

Okay.

Okay, I got it.

Starting right now, I'm going to lead the perfect life.

I'm going to be good.

I'm going to be nice.

From now on, I'm going to be nice.

Carla, would you please serve table seven?

Shut up!

So far, so good.

You know, Carla never ceases to amaze me.

She has a strange mixture of fervent religious faith

and primitive superstition.

I suppose it's a result of our ever-changing mixed-up culture.

I don't know that you should blame Carla's belief system on culture, Frasier.

The need to worship higher intelligence is an innate and universal phenomenon.

In fact, in recent weeks, it's become clear

that my lab rats worship me as a Goddess.

I must confess, I don't discourage them.

That's very interesting, dear.

Apropos of nothing...

How many vacation days do you have coming?

I don't know.

80, 85.

Well, what do you say we cash 50, 60 of those in

and have you spend a little time with some...

I don't know, some people.

Sam, where have you been all afternoon?

Just pacing back and forth with my sign, ruining John Hill's business.

I saw him peeking out the window. I think he's ready to make a deal.

You like my sign?

"I broke a tooth at Melville's. Ask me how."

That's a very scary little spider holding the tooth there, Sam.

That's a crab, actually.

A crab.

Looks like a spider.

A lot of people said that, so I ended up changing the story.

I told them that there was this outbreak of poisonous spiders up at Melville's.

Scared the hell out of them.

Sam.

Stay for this. This should be fun.

- Yes, John? - Let's get down to brass tacks.

Absurd as it may sound, you and your scary spider...

- That's a crab. Crab. - Forgive me.

You and your scary crab are driving my customers away,

so let's settle this right now.

I'll pay for your dental bill and add, say, $500 in cash.

It's a deal.

You all right, man?

There's a rock in your pretzel dish.

That is deliberate negligence.

It is not. Come on, man, you put that there. I saw...

A picture's worth a thousand words, Sam.

Thank you.

Now for the final performance this evening,

let's put our hands together for the merry mailman,

Cliff Clavin.

Come on. Give a hand.

Hi.

Hiya.

You know, Boston audiences are the greatest audiences in the world.

You know, I got this friend whose son is going to become a priest.

I know where this is going... "My son, the Father."

What's up with that?

I never thought I'd see a whole roomful of people

not laughing at Cliff.

Let's see what topics we got in the old mailbag.

Oh, here's one.

Anybody have a chance to call a TV repairman lately?

What's up with that?

Here's a doozie.

Avon lady.

Ding dong.

What's up with that?

Well... that's it for me.

Well, now, seriously, folks,

on a serious note, I just want to say...

Drinking and driving...

What's up with that?

Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen.

I really enjoyed it.

I've got to say, this is the most love

I've ever felt in one room in my life. Thank you. Thank you.

Normie, where did everybody go?

There was a bomb scare.

Really? Where?

Right about where you were standing.

Hey, Cliff. How'd it go at the club?

Daffynition.

Cliff Clavin,

stand-up comic.

It's not a joke, Lilith.

It was my pain.

The topper. Excuse me.

I have to go compose myself.

Cliff, I guess you had to learn the hard way,

but you know, maybe stand-up comedy

is just something you don't have a knack for.

Yeah. I can't figure out what went wrong.

The material was gangbusters. I wrote it myself.

It must have been the audience.

What's up with that?

See? I still got it.

Carla, doesn't that hurt?

Yeah, but I deserve it.

I'm atoning.

I thought of walking on hot coals. I thought of sleeping on a bed of nails,

but nothing I think of seems like enough.

I just got to think of some way to punish myself

that no human being has ever done before.

Oh, hey, I got it, Becs.

All I have to do is find somebody to sit down with me,

you know, like a personal audience.

I'll go over my routine over and over again,

100 times or so, until I nail it down.

Any volunteers?

You really play hard ball.