F R A S I E R (10x14) - Daphne Does Dinner -
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-Mimsy, wait! Please, I can explain! -Oh, don't bother!
And I bet you don't even have Tourette's Syndrome!
Poop!
Hell, damn! Oh...
-Lose my number! -Chef Etienne! Oh, dear God. -I hope you're happy.
Me?! You're the one who suggested that flaming kabobs might lend a festive air.
I didn't know Ben Corbett's toupee would go up like that.
Oh, quiet. Both of you. It's done.
-Party's over, Dad. -What, you mean I'm not the Count anymore? -'Fraid not.
Why is it that we can't seem to pull off a simple dinner party?
-Because you always go overboard. -Yes, but this one was bare bones. Simplicity itself.
One of your goats just threw up in the kitchen.
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-Oh, hello. How goes the installation? -Well, we had to put in a transformer for the DC,
so after we pull the wires, brace the beam, she'll be ready to roll.
Daphne, Daphne.
You know the Mike Shaw painting that I'm donating to the museum?
Frasier suggested we throw a farewell dinner party for it. We've invited some fellow collectors.
Uh, Niles, I've been thinking... Come and sit down, darling.
Maybe it's time you stop throwing dinner parties with your brother.
-What? -You don't exactly have the best track record.
-Well, throwing dinner parties is an art. It takes time to perfect. -No.
-But... -No.
No, it has to stop!
-Maybe you and I should try throwing a party together. -You and me?
Such a big step, are you sure?
-Maybe it's time we entertain as a couple. -Oh, thank you, darling.
-Excuse me, it's after four o'clock. What if I finish this tomorrow? -Well, I suppose...
Oh, no you don't. You said "One day" when I hired you, and that's what it has to be.
So get cracking, because something's going to be hanging from that rafter by the end of the day.
Yes, ma'am.
Daphne, you handled that so masterfully!
As if he weren't wearing that authoritative tool belt at all!!
Oh, Niles, Niles, thank goodness you're here! I am simply percolating with party ideas.
Listen, have you thought of inviting the artist himself? He lives in town.
-Yes, I extended an invitation through his gallery, but he declined. -That's too bad.
Well then, I have come up with the perfect entertainment for our little art crowd.
It's a radical tableau vivant troupe.
I don't know. But they do provide smocks and shower caps, so we're covered.
Frasier, Daphne and I are throwing the party.
Daphne? Well. Fine, suit yourself. It's your painting.
-I suppose I could just make my signature dish. -Daphne's handling the food.
Lovely. You'll be serving those sad brown chunks that make their way from plate to napkin, bypassing mouth completely?
It's called Piccadilly Beef, and I talked her out of it, thank God. The whole thing's being catered.
We're having Cornish game hens, wild rice stuffing, wonderful sides
-...and all heat-and-serve. -Stuffin'. Lovely.
-I think you'd be happy to be just a guest, for once. -"Just a guest"!
In my brother's home. You know, I've never been just a guest before.
Before, I always felt like family.
-Oh look! Here she is now: the hostess with the mostest. -I see Niles told you.
Yes. I'm sorry, I won't be attending your debut soiree, Daphne.
-I hope that doesn't upset your seating plan. -It will be a buffet.
Buffet!
Well,
if you should need any help, I think you know my phone number.
Number three on our speed dial.
Number three. Interesting.
I can't believe how calm you are. I would be a nervous wreck by now.
Well, I was nervous at first. But every step I thought,
"How would Frasier and Niles do this?"... and didn't do that.
-Daphne, I'm home!! -Coming, Mum.
Where's the video? I thought you were going to rent "Castaway".
If I wanted to watch someone talk to a volleyball for two hours,
I would have stayed in Manchester with your Aunt Evelyn.
-Well, what are you going to do all night? -Oh, you needn't worry about me.
I'm going to watch a boxing match on pay-per-view. Ooh, there's nothing like two great, sweaty beasts...
beating each other senseless... I miss your father.
-Come on, Alice, it's time to put away your crayons. -Lookit. I wrote my name really big.
-Oh, let's see. -There, and there, and there,
-...and THERE! -Oh, my God!
-Alice! Oh, Daphne, I am so sorry. -Oh, it's not to worry. It'll come out, it's only a little crayon.
-That's worse. -I can handle this.
-Niles has an art restorer he uses all the time. I'll get his card. -I'm sorry, Mommy.
I know, honey. But from now on, just only sign your own artwork, okay?
-'Cause mine is prettier? -Yeah.
-Here's his business card. -Okay. I'll run it right over. -Just tell him it's an emergency.
We're very good customers. I'm just glad Niles isn't here.
He doesn't take these things in his stride like I do.
There, another fire put out.
Oh, my God. The hens!
-Oh, my God! -Okay, don't panic. I can handle this.
-Oh, look at that, Daphne. Now what are you going to do? -Well, I can't call the caterer. They were doing
-...a big party and we were their last stop. -Oh, I know, call Frasier. He's gotta know some caterers.
Well, he was upset since I took over his job as Lord Mayor of Party Town, but he did offer his help.
-I hope he meant it. Go, take the painting. -Come on, Alice. Good luck.
Daphne, you're never gonna get a caterer at this late hour, but don't worry.
I think I can solve your little problem. I'll be right there.
As usual, Frasier has to save the day.
As usual, Martin has to hear about it.
Suit up, boys. We're goin' in.
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All right. I need a full rundown of the situation.
Well, I think I told you about the hens, which I burned.
I'm hoping we have enough ice, and...
I probably shouldn't have dressed the salad this afternoon.
-I'm pretty sure the soup is okay. -White wine.
-What do you think? Will we make it? -I won't lie to you, Daphne. It's bad.
I feel so stupid. I made a big deal about telling Niles how I could handle this on my own.
All right, listen. He doesn't have to know. If you just keep him out of my way,
-...I will gladly play your invisible little kitchen elf. -You would do that for me?
Of course, Daphne. Now listen, I have brought everything I need to make my signature pomegranate honey sauce.
I will need a ramekin for each of your guests.
Here we are.
-Oh, dear. This is bad. -What? -Well, there are two that are mis-matched.
It's all right if they're all mis-matched or if in pairs, but two is just unheard of.
Daphne.
-Oh, my God, it's Niles. What should we do? -Don't worry, I'm right in here.
-I am sorry I'm late. -Darling.
-I had the worst time finding miniature easels for the table. -Oh, but it was worth it.
I think so. The place looks lovely and the new chandelier is absolutely spectacular,
-...but why is the painting covered? -Oh, because I thought a proper unveiling would be an event.
-We'll do it after dinner. -Oh, why don't we do it after cocktails?
-It'll make for a lively dinner conversation. -Trust me. After will be better.
By the way, the kitchen is off limits to you. You've already slowed me down.
-Well, someone's tediously punctual. Shall we? -I'll be right out.
You know, if he had any resourcefulness at all, he'd know
that miniature easels abound at Liliputia Dollhouse and Miniatures.
Dad. Right, listen. I need you to do me a favor.
I want you to get me my ramekins, all right? And then bring them here, but come in the back way, so Niles doesn't see you.
No, ramekins. Well, they're small, round, ceramic dishes. I keep them in the lower left-hand kitchen cabinet.
No, no, those are tapes dishes. Right, those are for soy sauce.
Oh honestly, Dad, you know sometimes I don't think you listen to me.
I said sometimes I don't think you... I said sometimes...
I see what you're doing.
-Are we the first to arrive? -Oh, you are refreshingly on time.
-How about some drinks? -Sure.
Don't mind me. I'm just down to nick a bottle of the good stuff.
They normally hide it from me.
-This is my mother, Gertrude Moon. -Yes. Antonia and Alex.
-Oh, Mum, as long as you're going upstairs, take the coats. -Is this the Mike Shaw painting? -Yes.
-I'm dying to see it. -Sorry, no peeking. You'll have to wait 'til the unveiling.
Hmm, that sounds like a challenge. You're going to have to watch me like a hawk.
Oh, won't that be fun.
-What was that? -Don't worry, Niles, that's my domain. -Okay.
-Why don't you take our guests on a tour of the library? -All right. This way, this way.
-Is it true that you still collect Edwardian utility bills? -Oh, yes.
They're fascinating. For example, did you know that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was a notorious water hog?
But, you don't have to take my word for it!
-Frasier. -I dropped a pan. Everything's all right. -Daphne!
-Oh, for God's sake... All right.
I'm having trouble ordering the boxing match.
I don't understand, this never happens with the nudie programming.
Give it here. Oh, damn. You answer that, I'll take care of this.
-You can come out now. -You know, honestly, Daphne,
if these interruptions don't stop, my signature sauce will be reduced to a monogram.
I'm using humor to make a point.
-Hello, I'm Daphne's mum. -I'm Bill... -Don't bother, I'm just lettin' you in.
-Hi. Is this the Crane place? I'm Mike Shaw. -Mr. Shaw.
We thought we were just gonna see your painting. We didn't realize you were coming.
Ah, it was a last minute thing. Call me Mike.
Mike... hello. I'm Gertrude.
I'm Bill Talerino and this is my wife Sharon Kwyakowski-Talerino.
May I just say that you are our greatest living American artist bar none.
Bar none! Excuse me.
Is there anything worse than making phony conversation with phony art lovers?
Yes. Living with one. My son-in-law is the host.
And if you didn't want yer bum kissed, you shouldn't have come, that's all they do here.
I wasn't gonna come, but my gallery insisted.
Oh, well, I am going to be upstairs watching a boxing match... should you feel the need to get away.
Ah, I probably shouldn't, but maybe just the first round.
-All right, then. -You wouldn't have anything to drink up there, would ya? -Just liquor. -Excellent.
So it actually took George Bernard Shaw longer to rectify his billing error
-...than it did for him to write "Man and Superman". -That's great. Are those the drinks? -Yes.
Excuse me. Bill... Sharon...
-Thad and Jeremy. Welcome. -Niles.
-Where's your better half? -Oh, here she is now. -Oh, I meant Frasier.
-My brother's not coming this evening. -But he's always, always, always at your parties.
Frasier and yellowtail carpaccio. Has the world gone mad?
Not yet, we still have carpaccio.
You've got two choices. You can either walk away from the painting,
-...or you can limp away from the painting. -Walk, please, I think.
-Mother, coats. -Yes, Master.
We are so sorry, we have to go. We have a babysitter emergency.
The worst part is we're going to miss dinner with Mike Shaw. I can't believe you got that old hermit to come.
-Mike Shaw is here?! Well, where is he? -He must have wandered off.
I mean he's not at all like I pictured. Older guy, white hair, cane.
I think he's wearing a plaid flannel shirt. He's quite a character. -Really...
-Here you go. -Oh, Dad, finally. -Well, if you had said "nut bowls" I woulda gotten them right off.
Yes, yes, all right, now listen. I need you to run to the grocery store for me and pick up some sel de mar,
some olive topinade, balsamic vinegar, and some English Stilton cheese. Have you got that?
-You lost me after "Sally's mare". -All right, fine. I'll write it down.
-Coming right up. -Niles, no. -Dad, hide in there.
-Oh, Dad! I thought so! What are you doing here? -I just brought some dishes over.
-You're not supposed to be in the kitchen, Honey. -I don't know what happened, and I don't want to know how it happened,
-...but somehow our guests are all under the impression that Dad is Mike Shaw. -Who?
He's the artist that painted the painting that everyone is here to see. What are we going to do?
It's not a problem. We'll just take your father out the back door and make up an excuse.
Better yet, we'll take him out the front door. That way, people can see him leave.
Okay, but you know zero about art. Don't say a word or these people will see right through you.
Yeah, I'm sure a phony would really stand out at this party.
-Oh, this must be Mr. Shaw. -I have very bad news. Mr. Shaw is not feeling well, so he has to leave.
Oh, no. I can't let you go without getting your autograph.
-And if you could draw something on it... -Well, actually, I do a pretty good rocket.
Oh, no, Antonia. Mr. Shaw is not giving away art.
Just write "Mike Shaw". Isn't that nice?.. Okay, there you go. That's for you. Come along...
Please, just say a few words about the dry wit of "The Sandwich Maker".
-Who wants another tour? -I do. -Okay, get out.
-Niles, why don't you show them the secret passageway? -Oh, what a good idea. -Come on then.
I'll catch up with you. Don't let them in the panic room.
-Oh, hello. I'd almost given up on you. It's lovely. -Thanks.
-If you don't mind, I find it's best to get paid while there's still evidence. -Yes, of course, of course.
I tell you what, if you'll just wheel it over there by the dining rotunda, I'll be right with you.
The coast is clear. Come on, let's get a bottle of champagne and go back up.
Hey, you're Mike Shaw! I studied you in art school. You're a major influence.
-Well, that's very flattering. -Well, shall we get back upstairs for round 3?
She's talking about the fight. 'Course, the night's still young...
-And here, and that, and here you go, and... thank you. -No, thank you.
-I just met one of my heroes, Mike Shaw. -Oh, yes. In the hall? -No, right here.
Don't tell me: white hair, cane, plaid shirt, character?
-Forgot the list. -Right. -Mr. Shaw... -For God's sake. All right, here...
-Dad! You're not supposed to be here! -Niles! You're not supposed to be here!
And what's in here?
-Oh, Mr. Shaw, you came back! -Yeah, I, uh, felt better.
Then you must tell us about your work. We're collectors, you know.
Oh, but this is a party. I, uh, I... art all the time.
-Come on, let's get you another drink. -Fun party.
It's nice to see you step out of Frasier's shadow. I think he might have been holding you back.
Okay, I have to get out there before Dad says something stupid.
Let's get these hens browning so we can eat as soon as possible.
Mmm. That's Frasier's signature sauce. Except it's so much better.
I think you should send him the recipe.
I'm holding him back. Your sauce is better than mine.
Honestly, I don't even know why I try. I stand here, slaving over a hot stove and for what?
Does anyone appreciate me? No!
-Are you getting close, Mr. Slovotkin? -These things take time, miss.
Who do you think I am, that mouse in the cartoons that goes fast? What's his name?
-Speedy Gonzalez? -No.
The little mouse, big hat and he goes very fast.
-That's Speedy Gonzalez. -No! It's a mouse.
This is going to drive me crazy.
Hello? I have no idea. Can't you just stall dinner for a little while?
All right, don't yell. My friend wants to talk to you, Mr. Slovotkin.
Oh, it's very small.
Hello? I'm going as fast as I can. I'm not that little mouse that goes zip all around. What's his name?
No! That's what she said.
-He's a mouse! -What impresses me the most is the way you reinvent identity
-...while recording anonymity. -Well, that took years to get down. -Yes.
Come on, tell us. What do you think of Warhol?
Crap.
-Kienholz? -Crap.
It is so refreshing to have someone speak so candidly.
And you have to believe me because I'm a fancy-ass artist.
I know, why don't you take us through the house and you can tell us what you think of Niles' art?
Oh, sure... I've been waiting to do that for a long time.
-You can't brown the hens yet. -If we wait any longer, their skins will wrinkle
-...and my sauce will separate. Is that what you want? -I... -Is that what you want!?
-Daphne? -Damn it.
YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE IN HERE!
-I'm sorry, Dad's run amok. Why aren't the hens browning? -Because they're not ready yet.
-Well, they look ready. -Yes, well, they're not.
-Well, we'll just serve them as is. -You can't, they're not brown. -Well, we're going to.
-I'm going to get a platter. -Don't open that door!
Stop that, I already saw him.
-What are you doing here? -I am saving your party, that's what I'm doing. -Niles...
You don't have to explain. Frasier's presence here is clearly why this party's gone awry.
Oh really? Well, if that's what you think, then I will gladly take MY signature sauce and go.
-Your signature sauce... -And that reminds me. You won't be needing to use my poultry shears.
-No, no, you can't. It's already here, it's already here. -This is mine!
-No, no! It's on my property! -Oh, stop it, stop it, both of you! -Fine!
-What have you done? -I'm not sorry, you've been asking for this for years!
No, it's not what you think. See? Yummy.
No, no, it's sauce. We just had a little kitchen mishap. We'll just get this cleaned up.
-Here, wipe it on this. -Thanks, Dad.
That is no Mike Shaw.
-What happened to my painting? -Did you know about this, Mike? -I may have.
-Oh, give it up, Martin. This isn't Mike Shaw, it's Niles' father. -What are you trying to pull, Crane?
-This is uncomfortable. We should go. -No, no, no, please! Listen to me, listen.
Yes, there's been some deception and things have gotten out of hand, but no real harm has been done.
I made some mistakes. People make mistakes, but that's no reason to abandon them.
This night can still be a success. We've got the food, and you're all here
and when I tell you about what happened, we'll all have a good laugh about it.
So, please, everybody stay.
-All right. -Thank you. -Well done, Daphne.
Hello.
All right. Get your coats.
Daphne, congratulations.
You're now officially a Crane.
(Based on Croatian subtitles by and the transcript from twiztv.com. Synced by Jim_diGriz)