Cheers is filmed before a live studio audience.
Hi, Miss Howe.
Hi, Kelly.
This... is for you.
For me?
What is it?
(gasps)
Oh, Kelly, this is beautiful.
Why me?
Because I like you and you've always shown me friendship.
Well, that's sweet, Kelly.
Thank you.
And I want you to keep your hands off my man.
Do we understand each other?
Not really. (laughs)
Don't play dumb with me, Miss Howe.
I invented it.
You know, Woody tells me how you look at him.
Kelly, I don't look at him.
I know you do, Miss Howe,
and I'm prepared to buy you one of these every month
if you keep away from my Woody.
Well, you know, Kelly, he is awfully cute.
All right, one a week.
Do we have a deal? Deal.
Do you know where Carla is?
(theme song begins)
♪ Making your way in the world today ♪
♪ Takes everything you've got ♪
♪ Taking a break from all your worries ♪
♪ Sure would help a lot ♪
♪ Wouldn't you like to get away? ♪
♪ Sometimes you want to go ♪
♪ Where everybody knows your name ♪
♪ And they're always glad you came ♪
♪ You wanna be where you can see ♪
♪ Our troubles are all the same ♪
♪ You wanna be where everybody knows your name ♪
♪ You wanna go where people know ♪
♪ People are all the same ♪
♪ You wanna go where everybody knows your name. ♪
(door opens)
A Scotch, please, Sam.
And how about a beer for my friend Norm there?
Thank you, Fras.
You're certainly in a chipper mood today.
And why not? It's a beautiful day.
Yeah, good for you.
You know, it's amazing
how fast you've gotten over your separation.
Well, a healthy mental attitude- that's my secret.
Without that, you're nothing.
Ah, that's great, that's great.
You're completely over Lilith.
I'm sorry, who?
Lilith, your wife.
Never heard of the slut.
(door opens)
Big news, everybody.
Put down your beer mugs and hold on to your barstools.
Me and Ma just got a new neighbour,
moved into our apartment building...
little guy, about a hundred years old,
up from South America, thick German accent,
little moustache right about here.
Likes to paint.
I think you know where I'm going with this.
Sweet Lord, I'll bet I do.
Yep, Adolf Hitler is living in my apartment building.
Cliff, I don't even know why I have to tell you this,
but Hitler is dead.
He died at the end of World War II in that bunker.
Oh, yeah, really?
Were you at the bunker?
Yeah, as a matter of fact... Cliff,
throughout the years, we've become accustomed to your...
oh, how shall I delicately put this?...
uh... madness.
Now, for my own peace of mind, please assure me
that you're not going to march up to this man
and accuse him of being der Führer.
No, my accusations won't come
until after I complete my investigation.
The case will be rock solid,
and it'd better be.
I-I've been wrong twice before, you know.
Sa-am.
Wha-at?
I haven't been down here since the fire.
By the way, when are you going to rebuild?
We have.
Oh, well, and it looks very...
The reason I'm down here
is, last night our refrigerator
went on the fritz,
leaving us with a hundred pounds of mackerel,
which may or may not have gone bad.
Now, not wanting to take a chance with my customers,
I'm prepared
to offer a special to your patrons.
All-you-can-eat for two dollars.
Oh, whoa, whoa, wait a second here.
What makes you think my customers want your rotten fish?
NORM: W-W-W-Wait, Sammy, wa-wa-wait now.
Uh... let's just say, Mr. Hill,
that this, this fish has spoiled.
Uh, what would happen to us?
Oh, you could suffer a variety of symptoms
ranging from nausea to death.
Two bucks, you say?
Fair enough.
Oh, good, my package from Amityville has arrived.
Ah, Miss Tortelli.
Tell me, is that a new hairdo
or did someone toss a toaster in your bathtub?
(chuckling)
What am I saying?
What would you be doing in a bathtub?
Cleaning you out of the drain.
Yeasty oil slick.
Bladder polyp.
Manwich.
Perverted goat boy.
Sluttish mole.
7:00 tonight?
Make it 6:30.
That man is the foulest, most disgusting, hideous creature
to ever walk the face of this earth,
and he's all mine.
Well, I'm gonna head up to Melville's,
see if they've got another fish fry going today.
Hey, actually, Norm,
you ought to be careful, you know.
I think you were just lucky yesterday
that you didn't get really sick.
Who said I didn't get sick?
(door opens)
Well, all right, everybody.
Drop what you're doing,
stop the presses.
Nobody's going to be making fun
of Cliff Clavin anymore.
That's for sure.
Look, what I found in the trash of Mr. A. Hitler.
Behold, exhibit "A."
What's this, a check stub here?
It's a Social Security check stub,
and it sickens me.
To think that we Americans worked our fingers
to the bone
so Mr. Hitler could have creamed corn.
A cereal box?
That's right, Paul, it's a cereal box.
I guess we can determine that...
Trix are for kids and for der Führer.
Cliff, what is that thing?
This is the most sophisticated and high-tech listening device
that money can buy.
Gentlemen,
say hello to Mr. Ear.
Mr. Ear.
That's right, you see, if I'm going to stop
the Fourth Reich from happening,
I have to know every move that Hitler makes.
With this baby,
I can hear a pin drop at 500 feet away.
See those two chicks up there?
I'll tell you exactly what they're talking about.
They're talking about some stupid-looking yutz holding a...
never mind.
All right.
Look, wish me luck, everybody.
If I'm not back in two hours, call the Defence Department.
Tell them Hitler's alive and living in my apartment building.
They know the address.
You know, Cliff's pulled some pretty crazy stunts
through the years, but...
this is really starting to get me worried.
Yeah, maybe Cliff is really going over the edge here.
Gentlemen,
if I may be the voice of reason,
what if it is Hitler?
(door opens)
Woody,
I heard every word you said.
Thanks for being in my corner, pal.
I knew he was listening.
Now, when he snaps, maybe he'll spare me.
Well, bad news, boys.
No fish fry at Melville's.
Apparently, John Hill had a heart attack.
Oh, really?
Oh, my God, that's terrible.
Relax, Rebecca,
there'll be other fish fries.
It's okay.
Let's look at the long view here.
I was talking about John Hill.
What hospital is he in? Arlington.
Should we visit him at the hospital?
Who wants to go?
Come on, you guys, he's our neighbour.
We know him, we should see him in the hospital.
Rebecca, it's not like he's our best friend or anything.
Norm, that's not the point.
The point is, you have to pretend to be nice to people.
That's what makes you a good person.
Hello, yes, I want to inquire about the status
of one of your patients- Mr. John Allen Hill.
Oh, thank you.
That's great news.
Oh, thanks very much.
Whoa, thank God.
Dead, Sam?
No, he's not dead.
He's in stable condition.
That's a terrible thing to say, Woody.
You're always acting like you don't like him.
That doesn't mean I wish he were dead.
Well, what about yesterday
when you said "I wish he was dead"?
(door opens)
Hi, everybody.
Carla, what are you doing here?
Living my lifelong dream,
fulfilling all my fantasies.
I'm a cocktail waitress.
What do you think I'm doing here?!
Sam, she doesn't know about Hill yet.
What are we going to do? This is going to crush her.
Oh, all right, I'll, uh, I'll tell her.
Sam, news of this gravity should be delivered
by someone who has studied the human psyche
in great detail- someone who has tact,
compassion, and an understanding of the human heart.
Okay, Dr. Crane, I'll do it,
but you've got to deliver this martini.
Carla!
Woody.
What?
I was referring to myself.
Oh, right.
(muttering): Calling Dr. Von Ego.
Carla, may I have a word with you?
Sure. Please, sit down.
What I'm about to tell you may be a little difficult to hear.
Oh, my God.
And before I tell you what it is, I just want you to know
that we are all your friends and we support you.
What is it?
Carla, John Hill has had a heart attack.
Oh, my God.
Hill had a heart attack?
John Allen Hill had a heart attack?
(laughing): That's what you were trying to tell me?
From the way you were acting,
I thought something happened to my car.
Carla, you knew?
Of course I knew.
I'm the one who called the ambulance.
Oh, well, then you were there.
W-W-What, what happened?
Well, Hill and I were in the middle of doing it.
Next thing I know,
he's clutching his chest and turning blue.
I took it as a compliment till he fell to the floor.
So, uh, why didn't you go with him to the hospital?
I hate hospitals.
I'll send him a card later if I think of it.
Now, just a minute, Carla, listen.
You've been seeing this man for over a year now.
Don't you have any feelings for him?
Listen, Doc, I've had guys run out on me.
I had a husband die on me.
I got eight kids at home to worry about.
I don't need to go getting attached to some other guy
just because we sweat up the sheets now and then.
I couldn't care less about Hill.
You feel so strongly about him, you go visit him.
You ready to order?
Uh, yes, we'd like a gin and tonic with a lime, please,
a Diet Coke, a Manhattan up,
and we'll also need some fresh pretzels and, and...
(crying) I-Is there something wrong, Miss?
(sobbing): My boyfriend's in the hospital.
I'm so ashamed.
I called Hill my boyfriend.
What's wrong with me?
FRASIER: Carla,
you've come down with a bad case
of humanity.
A malady characterized
by bouts of compassion, warmth and caring.
I mean, who knows, this sort of thing could go on
for the rest of your life.
Shut up, fathead!
Or it could pass in a matter of seconds.
Everybody, just leave me alone.
You're making this into something it's not.
Carla, you cannot hold something like this inside of you.
PHIL: Yeah, Carla,
I never shared how I feel and now I'm old and all alone.
If there's one thing I learned...
Hey, Phil, zip it!
Look, first of all,
I don't have any feelings for that slug.
Second of all, you never saw me cry.
Third, I'd like to stay and chat
but I've got work to do.
Sam, I want to talk to you in the office.
Oh, I don't, I don't want to hear
about her relationship with John Hill.
I don't understand what they do when they get together anyway,
and I don't want to.
I wish there was some way I could get out of this.
Well, why don't you just wish she was dead?
Hey.
How ya doin', huh?
Oh, Sam.
Hill's in the hospital and it's all my fault.
Naw, see, now you can't blame yourself for that.
Oh, but it's true.
You see,
last night started out as just an average date.
Hill and I getting it on hot and heavy.
I'm cursing at him, he's cursing at me...
some real beauties.
The headboard was begging for mercy.
Do me a favour and just cut the chase.
Unless there was a chase and- oh, God, no.
Uh...
I'm a little... Okay. Okay.
Just before he keeled over,
I went over the line.
I said something so awful, I...
I can't even repeat it.
Oh, honey.
Well, what'd you say?
(mumbling)
I'm sorry, what?
(clears throat)
I told him I loved him.
And that's...
and that's bad, right? Of course.
Uh-huh.
Of course that's bad!
Mm.
Sam, you don't get this, do you?
Look,
Hill and I have a very simple relationship.
I don't like him, he doesn't like me,
we get it on.
Now, if we start saying we like each other,
we're gonna screw up what we had.
And then I'm gonna lose him
and I don't want to lose him, 'cause I care for him.
(gasps) What is with me?!
I'm, I'm getting lost here.
Do-do you like this guy or not?
Of course I do.
But I can't tell him.
Why not?
Because if I tell him,
then he won't have anything to do with me.
Just like if he told me,
I wouldn't have anything to do with him.
Oh, all right, all right, all right, I see.
So-so you're saying...
shoot!
I almost had it.
I guess there's only one thing I can do.
I've gotta go to the hospital
and straighten things out. Yes! Yes!
That's it! You've gotta go to the hospital,
and no matter how much it costs you...
you've gotta tell the guy that you care for him.
No, Sam.
I have to go and tell him
that I don't care for him. Right!
Right! I was gonna say that next.
You gotta go and tell him
that you don't care for him.
Right. Okay.
All right.
Who wants to know what Hitler watches on TV?
Cliff, I'm not gonna play this stupid game anymore.
Hitler does not live in your apartment building.
All right, from 1500 hours to 1530 hours,
he watched The Flintstones.
Instead of Gilligan's Island?
Well, he is a mad man.
From 1530 hours to 1600 he watched People's Court.
How ironic.
At 1630 hours,
he clapped off the TV and went to bed.
Oh, my God, Norm!
It's him. Hide me.
This is the guy you thought was Hitler?
No, no, worse!
It's my landlord, Mr. Cranston.
Clavin, don't you try to hide from me!
I'm here to inform you
we held a tenants meeting last night.
Uh, I wasn't invited.
We never invite you when it's about you.
Was Hitler there?
Yes, Hitler was there...
or Mr. O'Leary
as he's known to us on Planet Earth.
Yeah, what was the meeting about?
Well, I intended to have you evicted.
You've done some strange things in your time, Clavin,
but this is the worst!
You're harassing an old man!
Who may well be the most hated
and feared figure of the Twentieth Century.
Well, at least he's not one of those noisy teens.
Well, that's true.
As I was saying,
I was gonna boot you out,
but your mother made a stirring speech in your defence.
By the time she finished reading that passage from the Bible,
we were all in tears.
Even Hitler?
Even Hitler.
Oh, Mr. O'Leary.
Now I will allow you to stay,
if you apologize to him
and promise not to pursue this matter any further.
Now do I have your word?
Yeah, okay. I promise.
So just don't boot us out, all right?
Agreed.
Well, thank you.
You know, I-I know
I get out of hand occasionally.
I've got all this pent-up energy,
a lot of time on my hands.
You know, uh, I'm Civil Service.
Well, that explains it.
I will let you off with a warning this time, Clavin.
Does this mean I can go back in the laundry room?
No. That's a whole separate thing.
Hmm.
Well, Cliff, you've tormented an elderly man,
you got everyone in your apartment building angry,
and you almost lost your home.
Now, are you clear on what this means?
Sure.
Hitler brainwashed my landlord.
Hill!
Miss Tortelli!
These are for you.
Oh, what a thoughtful purchase.
I didn't buy 'em.
I got 'em out of a room down the hall.
The guy won't be needing 'em where he's going.
Has he been discharged?
You might say.
If you ever need a pair of slippers,
size 11, let me know.
Oh, thank you.
Frankly, Miss Tortelli,
I don't know why you're here.
My doctor informs me
I have to remain celibate for the next eight weeks.
Hey, don't insult me, Hill!
You think that sex is all I have on my mind?
There are other facets to my personality.
Eight weeks?
Well, anyway, look,
I just came here because I wanted to apologize.
Last night, before this happened,
I said this thing to you,
and, um,
I just wanted you to know that
this thing I said- eight weeks?!
Please continue, Miss Tortelli.
Anyway, about this thing that I said,
I just wanted you to know that I didn't mean it.
Hill,
do you remember what thing it is I'm talking about?
I must confess it rings a faint bell...
that thing.
Well, I just wanted to say I'm sorry,
because I think it's probably what caused your heart attack.
It was quite a shock.
I don't think anyone's ever said it to me before.
No one?
Not even your daughter?
Well, it never really came up.
You had a wife.
Well, she and I...
had an understanding.
Your parents?
The point is, Miss Tortelli,
I'm not exactly a cuddle bear.
Yeah, well, neither am I.
See you around.
Uh, uh, one moment, Miss Tortelli.
Yeah.
Perhaps the diuretic is making me sentimental, but, uh...
what do you suppose would happen
if we were foolhardy enough to attempt
to take our relationship to the next plateau?
Hypothetically, of course.
Yeah, well,
I have thought about that a little bit.
I'm not proud of it, but I've thought of it.
After all, we have eight celibate weeks
in which to get to know each other better.
Okay, I'm game.
Uh, so, uh,
Miss Tortelli.
Carla.
Oh, Carla!
Carla- that's a pretty name.
Thank you.
So, uh,
you, uh, you have any children?
No.
So, uh, what's it like running a restaurant?
Well, you know, a lot of work,
but, uh, very rewarding.
Oh, that's good.
I mean that is rewarding.
Because there are a lot of jobs that aren't rewarding,
and it's good that you found a job
that is rewarding.
Carla, could you please do me a small favour?
Yes, John.
Could you work yourself behind this machinery
and unplug my life-support system
so that I can leave this life
and this agonizing conversation behind?
Oh, like it was fun for me, zit face!
Sasquatch.
Road kill.
Catcher's mitt. Pond scum.
Phlegm face.
See you in eight weeks?
Make it four. Make it two.
Pull the curtain.