Cheers is filmed before a live studio audience.
Sounds great, Kelly. I'll see you Saturday.
Yeah. Okay.
Guess what, guys? What?
I'm going to my first country club dance.
Whoo-hoo! - All right.
Yeah, I gotta check the bus schedule.
Wait, wait, Woody-- you're going out with
the boss's daughter and you're riding around on a bus?
Yeah, it's getting to be a real drag, too.
Especially when you can't sit together.
Maybe I can borrow Sam's car.
Whoa, whoa, hey.
Hold up there, Woodster.
Lest you forget the Ten Commandments of Sam Malone.
Hence, commandment number three:
"Thou shall not loan thy car."
I thought that was commandment number four.
That's "Honor thy hair."
I think Sam might make an exception
in my case. Hey, Sam?
Sam?
Can I borrow your car?
My car?
Yeah, I'll be real careful with it.
No, I'll bring it home early
and I'll wash it the next day.
Well, food for thought.
So, Wood, is he gonna loan you the car?
He didn't come right out and say it, but I like my chances.
He's in a great mood today.
¶ 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 want to be where you can see ¶
¶ Our troubles are all the same ¶
¶ You want to be where everybody knows your name ¶
¶ You want to go where people know ¶
¶ People are all the same
¶ You want to go where everybody knows your name. ¶
I wish you luck, Woody,
because if Sam does lend you that car,
you're home free.
That thing is a rolling aphrodisiac.
Absolutely. You know, any female that rides
around with Sam in that car...
Yeah?
...ends up going straight to bed with him.
I've ridden in that car.
Right.
Well, I didn't go to bed with him.
Huh. Right, and they always deny it
afterwards, you know?
I hate you guys.
Yeah, then they always cop that anti-male attitude, you know?
Oh, Sammy, mind if I cut out for an hour?
I want to catch the last couple of innings
of my kid Ludlow's T-ball game.
Hey, I thought he was the intellectual of the family.
He's into baseball, huh?
Well, he didn't go willingly.
I had to trick him.
I used the old "going to the library
"but running out of gas
in front of the ballpark" routine.
Seems kind of drastic, doesn't it?
Come on, Sammy, please.
I don't want the kid growing up
to be a soft, doughy wimp
wearing an argyle sweater and smoking a pipe.
Go ahead, take off.
And don't worry about Lud; he'll be fine.
you know, that's Carla's son
by Bennett Ludlow. He's a cute little tyke.
Carla bore a son to Bennett Ludlow--
the eminent psychiatrist, your mentor?
Oh, this is prime dish.
I can't wait to tell the girls in the sleep disorder lab.
So, Carla, tell, tell.
Have you bedded any other Rhodes scholars?
Uh... no.
But one egghead, long-distance, phone-in father
is enough for this baby factory.
In spite of the fact that Dr. Ludlow's work
takes him out of the country,
I'm sure he's a marvelous parent.
No, a good parent is someone who's there.
Who's there to help them out with their homework.
There when they wake up in the middle of the night
crying their eyes out.
He's there with the bottle of Bactine
when they give themselves a bad tattoo.
Well, I've been there.
I raised eight kids on a waitress's salary,
and I want you to know they're all good kids,
and not one of them has had a conviction
that stood up on appeal.
I stand corrected, Carla.
Mom, how could you
do that to me?
Luddy, how did you get here?
Did the coach drop you off?
Yes.
Oh, then the game ended early.
So how'd you do?
Coach me had on the bench all afternoon.
Well, what do you mean?
You didn't play at all?
Well, they finally put me in
after the kid with the cast on his leg
and the two fat girls left.
So what did you do?
I hit the ball, but they still made fun of me.
Like everybody's just supposed to know which way to run.
I'm going to go clean up your specs.
Carla's got herself a real Poindexter there, huh?
Yeah.
It's sad to say
that kids not accepted by their peers
really never learn how to get along with people
in the big grown-up world.
Why is that, Cliff?
'Cause they keep boring everyone and driving them crazy
with long speeches filled with meaningless statistics?
Yep, yeah.
63% of them live lives of quiet desperation.
And how about those who sit next to them?
I'm Dr. Frasier Crane, a friend of your father's.
I understand
you had a rough afternoon.
You must never let the bullies of this world
diminish your inner spirit
nor put out the fire of your competitive nature.
Sir? Yes, son?
You're kneeling on some gum.
Heavens, my new gabardines!
You and gum.
He attracts it like a magnet.
We'll swing by our place
and pick up another pair on our way to the opera.
Which opera are you going to?
Die Meistersinger.
Oh, I know that one.
That's where all the master singers
get together in Nuremberg and have a big contest
to find out who's best.
Oh, yeah, kind of like Star Search.
Basically.
Frasier...
Frasier, I just had a delicious idea.
Why don't we buy an extra ticket
and take young Lud to the opera with us?
Oh, wow, great!
But I have to ask my mom.
Mommy, Dr. Crane and his wife
invited me to go to the opera with them.
Well, you don't have to be polite.
Just tell them to bug off.
But, Mom, I want to go. Please?
Carla, may I have a word with you?
Yeah. Sammy, entertain the kid.
Carla, you'd be doing us all a favor.
Allowing Frasier and me to spend some time
with your son might help us to formulate a decision
that's been under much discussion as of late.
You see, the two of us are considering whether or not
we wish to reproduce.
You're thinking of having a baby, huh?
So, tell me, how long does it take
one of your pods to hatch, anyway?
Listen, you want to baby-sit Lud, be my guest.
What's that on your shirt?
Huh? Ooh!
You're good. You're good.
Okay, Luddy, you're going to the opera.
Yay!
Yeah, you're going to love it, kid, too.
You know that Wagner,
he wrote all those pieces when he was stone deaf.
No, that was Beethoven.
I meant blind.
That was Milton.
He had warts.
That was you.
I told you not to tell anybody.
Shouldn't they be back by now?
How long can an opera last?
Well, the last one I remember
lasted about eight months.
Yeah, I just hope everything's all right.
Carla, look, I know you love your kids and everything...
I mean, like your kids.
I mean, I know you have kids...
but I have never seen you this concerned before.
Well, Lud's special.
Yeah?
Yeah.
I mean, whenever I come home at night,
he always brings me a pan of hot water for my feet.
He actually asks me how my day went.
I don't know if I ever told anybody this before...
I love him.
You don't have to be shy about saying
that you love your kids.
Oh, why don't you just take out an ad in the Yellow Pages?
Hey, Normie, I almost forgot
how much Sam's Corvette girls love to whistle.
I wish I had a nickel for every time
I heard that sound, huh?
Classic slamming of the door.
So Sam still won't loan you his car, huh?
No, but I'm starting to love that man's laugh.
Sammy, come on, give the kid a break, will ya?
Just let him borrow your car.
Please, Sam?
Kelly's the best girl I've ever dated,
and she loves Corvettes.
Well, I tell you what, Woody.
I'll give her a lift in my car.
No way, Sammy.
Every girl who goes for a ride in your Corvette
winds up going to bed with you.
Right, Miss Howe?
Well, now she's just being redundant.
It's okay, Sam, I understand about the car thing.
Oh, good.
I didn't mean to put you on the spot.
And, uh, I want you to know that, even though you won't
let me borrow your car, there's no hard feelings.
And if I ever have a car of my own,
and you want to borrow it, it's yours.
Ah, I know what you're trying to do.
You're trying to guilt me into giving you my car.
No, I'm not. I wouldn't do that.
You're my best friend.
Ah, man, you're scum!
I mean it, Sam, I love you.
Hey, fine. Here, take the damn car.
What just happened?
You outsmarted him.
So that's what it feels like.
Mom, Mom! The opera was so great!
All the singing, and costumes.
This was the best day of my life!
That's terrific, Lud.
I never seen him so excited.
Thanks, guys.
Oh, Carla, it was our pleasure.
He's an extraordinary child.
Yes, we had an extensive discussion
on the way back about opera,
the arts, film...
Oh, Carla, may we take Lud to the movies tonight?
There's a revival of Koyaanisqatsi we'd love him to see,
and then we were thinking he could sleep over,
We could have brunch and a matinee of Peter and the Wolf.
Gee, I don't know.
He's never stayed away from home before.
He's only six.
Please, Mommy? Please?
Oh, heck, you really want to go that bad, huh?
Go, go, go ahead. Have a good time.
Stay as long as you want.
I'll see you when you get back.
Thank you, Carla.
We'll take good care of him, don't worry.
Well, that's that.
I lost my baby.
Listen, Sam, I hope it's okay
that I keep asking you this,
but I just want to make sure one last time
that you haven't changed your mind
about me using your car.
No, Woody.
No, you haven't changed your mind
or no, I can't use your car
or no, it's not okay to ask?
No, get out of my face before I hurt ya.
He's special.
Hey, Carla, still listening to that opera stuff?
She can't hear you, Cliff.
She's got the music blasting in her ear.
You mean she can't hear me
if I say she reminds me of
one of those little plastic troll dolls?
Hey, what's... what's the big idea?
I thought you couldn't hear me.
No, but I can see, and you're ugly.
So, are you still cramming all that high-Q stuff in your head?
You know, Sammy, I don't have any choice.
I mean, ever since Dr. Cyclops and Morticia
started introducing Lud to all this culture crap,
it's like I don't have anything to talk to him about.
So I'm listening to all this music,
and I'm plowing through all these books here.
Look at this.
Good heavens, man.
History of Modern Art.
Comprehensive Guide to the World Of Opera.
Hollywood Wives.
Yeah, I'm getting into literature, too.
I've read this.
Oh, man, who am I trying to kid?
I'm just stupid.
Hey, you are not stupid.
Oh, how would you know? You're stupid.
If you were really stupid, you wouldn't know that about me.
Good point.
Greetings, Carla.
We just dropped your son off at home
after a lovely sojourn
at the Museum of Fine Art.
You know, that child is such a love.
He's so bright, inquisitive, creative.
He reminds me of myself as a child.
Of course, he has more hair.
We were wondering if we could
treat Lud to dinner this evening.
Come on, guys.
You've had him out every night this week.
Besides, I had a special family evening planned.
I was gonna cook a big bowl of pasta,
and we're all gonna sit around and watch
America's Most Wanted,
and see if we could rat on our neighbors.
Yes, but, you see, Carla, this is special, too.
I mean, I've just managed to finagle reservations
for Magritte's.
It's the most exclusive restaurant in all of Boston.
I never heard of it.
Precisely.
Carla, please.
It would mean a lot to the child,
and I think Lud would enjoy it also.
Oh, all right. Who cares?
More spaghetti for the rest of us.
Hey, Fras.
Listen, why don't you invite Carla to dinner with you?
Well, now, Sam, uh...
Carla is a fine woman and a good friend.
Actually, she's neither.
And why would I want to eat with her?
Frasier, dear, I think we should invite Carla.
I think it would be very, very nice.
Do you know what would be very, very nice, Lilith?
If you would stop digging your nails into my palm.
But I'm sure I'll choose to see your point
before you draw blood.
Carla? Carla, what say we make it four
at Magritte's tonight, huh?
You buying?
I'm going.
Well, good. We're on, then.
We'll call for you at 8:00.
By the way, Carla, please bear in mind
that this is a very
posh establishment.
Need I say more?
Oh, no, no, no.
I get the picture loud and clear.
I'll shave my legs.
I hope this table is satisfactory.
Oh, this is wonderful.
You know, the place is just as I had heard it was.
It's delightful.
Everything looks absolutely exquisite.
The menu is a delightful combination
of nouvelle and provincial
with a nod toward domestic ingredients.
And get a load of all this ambiance.
The artwork is stunning.
Yes, well, there's a delightful example of modern art.
If I might venture a guess, I would say it's a "Schnaybel."
It isn't.
But, even if it was, it would be pronounced "Schnahbel."
Excuse me. It's a little hard to tell
this far from our "tahbel."
That's funny, Mom.
Ludlow, please, we're not here to have fun.
We're here to enjoy ourselves.
Now...
would it please everyone
if I ordered for the whole table?
It would be delightful.
Fine. Thank you.
Now, I know that
Lilith's delicate constitution
is not amenable to shallots.
Is there anything else I should be mindful of?
How considerate of you to ask, Frasier.
Actually, I have a delicate constitution, as well.
No extra-heavy barbecue sauce.
I'll be repeating like a Howitzer.
Delightful.
Boy, this sure beats taking the bus, doesn't it?
Just you and me, the open road.
I'm getting kind of tired of driving.
What do you say we park somewhere
and look at the stars for a while?
Oh, that sounds nice, Woody.
Hey, Sam, where's a good place to go next?
Make a right at the light!
And not so fast this time!
Thank you.
Oh, and please tell Paul
that the salad course was an absolute treasure.
His subtle yet assertive dressing
was the perfect balance for the arugula.
I concur in spades.
He'll be pleased to hear it.
Well, shall we bouillabaisse?
Ah, now...
smell the piquant bouquet.
Taste it with every part of your tongue,
and then let it just dance down your throat.
Frasier, as usual, your anticipation
is interfering with my enjoyment.
Yeah, Eddie has that problem, too.
Ludlow, you're not eating.
None for me, thanks, Dr. Crane.
He doesn't like fish.
Look, Carla, this is not something
that comes out of your cupboard
in a tin can with a mermaid on it.
This is fruits de mer.
At $32 a pop, I think the lad should give it a try.
Now, Ludlow, you've been very open-minded
about everything else.
Make him happy. Take a bite.
If you don't like it,
you can spit it out in your napkin. See?
Carla, we are not here to make me happy.
We are here to enrich the lad's experience,
which, if I must say so, I do believe is my provenance.
Now, Lud, you know we all have certain things we don't like.
I detested fish when I was a child,
but I kept eating it and, finally, I overcame my aversion.
Likewise.
When I first met Frasier,
I detested him.
Yes, but the point is you love me now.
And Lud will love bouillabaisse.
Try it.
Okay.
Eww! Fish!
You barely tasted the broth.
Give it a better chance than that.
No! I want a hamburger!
This restaurant does not serve hamburgers.
Now, eat your bouillabaisse.
No! This fishy soup stinks!
And I hate it!
What an imp!
Luddy? What are you doing?
I'm going to try to get him out from under there.
No, Carla. Carla, that's exactly what he wants you to do.
One must not play the game by his rules.
Now, I've taught a seminar or two
on developmental behavior,
and the first rule in these acting-out situations
is to simply ignore the offending child.
Just pretend that he doesn't exist.
Eventually, he'll get bored and come out.
So... what a lovely meal.
Mmm! Do you know, I heard
that the chef here was a protégé of...
Do you smell something burning?
Yes. That's my shoe.
I heard that he was a protégé of...
Your shoe is on fire? Yes.
Isn't that painful?
Excruciating.
But I'm not going to give the child
the pleasure of hearing me cry out.
So, you see,
it seems he was educated
in a small village on the Rhine.
He...
Oh, Lud.
One hotfoot might be considered a puckish prank.
But, if you light that other match,
it is the end of our tutelage.
Is that perfectly clear?
That's it!
That's it! I've had it!
That severs the relationship!
Frasier, everyone thinks
you're arguing with your clams.
Is there a problem here?
No, no. Of course not.
The boy just slipped under the table,
and his mother was about to get him out.
His mother. Uh... yes, yes.
Carla, could you take care of this?
Gee, I don't know if I could.
I... I've never taken a psychology seminar.
Sir, we have a very nice table in the kitchen.
Please, Carla. Please, please.
Hey, Lud, burger time.
Yay!
Ha-ha! Hotfoot, huh?
My genes must be in there somewhere.
Let's go, Mommy.
First, apologize to Dr. Crane.
I'm sorry, Dr. Crane.
I guess I shouldn't have acted this way.
Well, no hard feelings, son.
Let's have dinner again sometime
when you're about, oh, in your late 30s.
Bye.
Uh... I was wondering.
Do you have frog legs?
Why, yes.
They're nice pants.
No one will ever notice.
I always wanted to do that.
You're the best mommy in the world.
Yeah. Tell me something I don't know.
You know, Lilith, I think we've all
learned something here tonight.
I'm going to try to tell you what it is
before you coat my blistering feet with butter
and drop me off at the emergency room.
You see...
this incident has made something very clear to me.
I... I believe my initial instincts were correct.
We shouldn't have children.
I don't think I'd make a good father.
I don't want to be a father.
I'll never be a father.
End of discussion.
Frasier, I'm pregnant.
I'm gonna be a daddy?
I'm gonna be a daddy!
Oh, Lilith, we must come here more often.