All language subtitles for Cheers.S09E12.1080p.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-HQC

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Original subtitles

Cheers is filmed before a live studio audience.

(car horn toots)

(theme song begins)

¶ Sometimes you want to go

¶ Where everybody knows your name ¶

¶ And they're always glad you came ¶

¶ You wanna be where you can see ¶

¶ The troubles are all the same ¶

¶ You wanna be where everybody knows your name. ¶

All right, okay, here's one.

Hayley Mills, playing herself and her twin sister

in The Parent Trap.

All right, all right.

Um, how about Elizabeth Montgomery

as both Serena and Samantha in Bewitched?

Ooh! Very nice! Yeah. Yeah.

All right. Cliffy?

Well, uh, Norm, I'd have to say the, uh, queen of the genre,

Patty Duke, as both Patty and, uh, the minuet-lovin' Cathy.

FRASIER: Oh!

What's the topic du jour?

Actresses who have played their own look-alikes

through the use of trick photography?

No. Fictional twins we'd like to see

making out with each other.

WOODY: Hey, Sam,

the new Boston Merchants coupon book is out,

and I got us in it.

Oh damn it, Woody!

I hate that thing!

Well, maybe you don't understand how it works. Yeah, I do.

Guy comes in, gives you a coupon.

You give him a free drink, he leaves,

you never see him again.

Well, then you do understand.

Woody...

Well, what, Sam?

You think it was a bad idea?

You think I shouldn't have done it?

You think I'm a stupid idiot, right?

No, no, that's... Yes!

Well, I... I'm sorry, Sam.

I just thought it would attract

new customers to the bar.

Yeah, a-a bunch of deadbeats and freeloaders.

NORM: Yeah.

You don't want people like that in here.

Another beer, please, Wood.

Sam, that was John Allen Hill on the phone.

He's on his way down. SAM: No, no.

I don't want to talk to him. I hate that guy.

Sam, be a good businessman. He's our upstairs neighbor.

We have to live together.

Just try to be civil to him.

All right, all right, all right, I'll be good. I'll be good.

You know, I get the feeling sometimes

he deliberately says things just 'cause

he knows it's gonna get under my skin.

Sam!

See? God...

Sam, it appears we have a problem.

Do you know what this is?

Yeah. Yeah, it looks like a manicure.

Nice one, too.

Wait. Is that a...

Is that clear polish, or are they just buffed?

They're just clean.

Sam, I'm concerned.

Are you aware that your bar is featured in this coupon book?

Yeah, I am. Well, my concern

is how this will affect Melville's.

I'm not anxious to greet the type of person

you're obviously hoping to attract.

What are you saying?

You saying that you're better than me?

That your customers are classier than mine?

Well, they're not. NORM: Hey, Sammy?

Will you settle a bet for us, please?

Which one of our breaths smells most like tuna?

Loser has to go through the spanking machine.

What do you want me to do, walk over and check?

I can tell you from here.

Oh, yeah, right, right.

And none of your customers have fish breath

when they come walking out of your restaurant?

It's a seafood restaurant, Sam.

Ah, all right, so you admit it, right?

(grunting)

Well, looks like the big boy lost.

Hi, guys.

Hey, Carla, I got a message for you.

Your brother called.

Something about a family meeting.

Oh, yeah?

There!

Uh, here's your message.

That was my paycheck.

Carla, what's the problem? Why are you so upset?

Oh, I hate family meetings.

They're nothing but a bunch of complaining and infighting

and bickering and backstabbing.

And, of course,

sweet little Carla has to play the peacemaker.

FRASIER: Well,

I, for one, think family meetings

can be worthwhile encounters.

They encourage open and honest communication

among the generations.

Did you have them in your family there, Fras?

No, I lucked out.

My family didn't want to be close.

If you're lying to me, I'm gonna rip out your slimy, gray tongue.

Whoa.

Sounds kind of serious.

It's my mother.

Well, what's the matter with her?

She had the dream.

What dream's that?

The death dream.

Whenever someone in my family has it,

you can just start divvying up the jewelry.

REBECCA: What exactly

is this... death dream?

FRASIER: Yes,

and, uh, why exactly do you always do this...

when you say, "the death dream?"

You just did it.

Carry on.

Well, the dream is always the same.

There's a casket on a slab in an empty room.

You walk slowly toward it.

Suddenly, the lid flies open.

You see your own face?

No, you see these feet,

'cause you're looking at the wrong end.

Then, you look upward,

and there's your own face,

pale and bluish with pennies over your eyes.

And that's when you bolt up in bed screaming.

FRASIER: Carla,

death is an earthly scientific passage

predicted by either massive physical injury

or progressive bodily deterioration.

There is as little validity in a supposed death dream

as there is in the...

clichéd image of death itself as a grim, bloodless ghoul

whose bony finger reaches out

to tap you on the shoulder when your number's up.

Frasier, it's time to go.

(screams)

Don't do that, woman!

For God's sakes,

put on some blush or...

SAM: Honey,

it's kind of slow.

Why-Why don't you take the day off,

go see your mom, huh?

Might I remind you, Sam--

my mother and I don't exactly get along.

You don't get along with anybody.

Yeah, well, this is different, and shut up!

The last time I saw my mother, we had this terrible fight

about this stupid family thing,

and I swore I would never set foot

in her lousy place again

unless someone dragged me there kicking and screaming.

So, that's it, huh?

You're damned right.

(clicks tongue)

Drag me, Sammy.

Really?

Do it. Drag me.

No! No! Cut it out!

I don't want to go!

No! No! I never want to see that shriveled old bag again!

No! Put me down!

I don't want to go!

Oh, Carla, Carla!

Oh, nobody would believe you would come!

Oh, your sister is in there with your mother now,

and you go next, yes?

Oh, she will be so happy to see you.

Carla! (laughs)

Sam, you remember Zia, the hugger.

Yeah.

Oh, Sam!

Oh!

MAN: You guys

want a beer?

This is kind of a solemn occasion, Sal.

Malt liquor?

I'll pass.

So, Zia, how's Mom?

Carla, what kind of question is that?

She had the dream.

So, she's really sick, huh?

No. She doesn't have to be sick.

She had the dream. Oh...

She'll be dead soon.

Have you had lunch?

Uh, actually, yeah, I did.

Oh, then this is dinner.

Oh, hey, thanks, Zia.

Eat up, Sam. Our family believes in,

life is for the living.

(laughs)

Soon enough, we'll all be dead,

rotting in the ground, with a mouth full of worms.

Great linguini.

Thank you, Zia.

Oh, Carla, your sister's finished.

Bitch.

Slut.

Oh, it's nice to see them talking.

Mama.

Angeline?

No, Mama.

It's Carla.

Oh.

My purse is on the dresser.

Mama, I didn't come here for your money.

I came because I feel bad

things got so ugly between us the last time I was here.

So, you've come to say you're sorry.

Well, I'm sorry we fought.

Then you're sorry.

I accept your apology.

Good. I accept your apology, too.

I didn't say I was sorry.

Well, then, I'm not sorry, either.

Too late. I already accepted your apology.

Damn!

So, here...

now that we've made peace,

I want you to have the ring

that my mother gave to me,

and her mother

gave to her.

Oh, Mama. The ring.

What's this?

I hocked it.

Come.

Oh, your father's hair.

Sorry, Mom.

And now, Carla,

there is something you must do for me.

Oh, Mama, I know what you're gonna ask me.

We're just gonna get into that same fight

we had the last time I was here.

I... It... It's just too much to ask.

I can't do it.

It's the family tradition.

No.

I did it.

My mother did it.

Her mother did it.

Her mother did it before her.

I said no.

I don't care who did it.

Her mother did it.

Mama, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry you had the dream.

I'm sorry you're gonna die.

I'm sorry the family tradition is gonna die with you.

But that is just the way it is.

I can't do this for anybody, not even for my mama.

Her mother did it.

Oh...

What's the matter, honey?

Oh, Sammy, Sammy.

It's this stupid family tradition.

Since the beginning of time, every woman in our family...

who has children...

...has named one of her sons

with the first name of her father

and the maiden name of her mother.

And I just wouldn't do it.

I don't mean to take your mother's side here,

but what's the big deal?

It's just a name.

Oh, yeah, sure, just a name.

Why, uh, what was your father's first name?

Benito.

And your mother's maiden name?

Mussolini.

Yikes.

Could I have some more sauce, please?

(Mama moaning)

ZIA (gasps): The death walk.

She's still here.

I feel her presence like a shiv in my heart.

Mama.

I'm not rejecting you.

I just don't want to name one of my sons Benito Mussolini.

Why not?

Because, back a few years,

there was another Benito Mussolini.

Remember him?

I don't see why one Fascist dictator

should ruin it for the entire family.

Mama, you are the only one who even cares

about that stupid name.

Everybody else agrees with me, right?

Oh, you're an ungrateful child.

You make me sick.

Bitch.

Okay.

Well, just forget all of you.

I hate this family.

I hate this house.

I just never want to come back here again.

I swear it.

I swear it a million times.

I swear on my children's eyes, I am never, ever, ever

setting foot in this stupid, ugly, stinkin' rattrap again.

Well, there goes my ride.

How can her mother expect her

to name one of her kids after Benito Mussolini?

Well, it could have been worse.

What if her father's name had been Adolf?

Yeah.

Yeah, and her mother's maiden name

could have been Menjou.

Phew.

She really dodged the bullet there.

Anyway, I gave her the day off

so she could just go home and cool out, you know.

Well, very often

that's the best thing you can do

when you're not getting along with a family member.

Remove yourself entirely from them.

Find some neutral place

where you can take the time you need to be away from them.

You really think so, Fras?

Well, that's...

that's why we're all here, isn't it?

Thank you very much.

Great.

Four more freebies,

thanks to Woody's stupid coupon book.

I'm sorry, Woody.

I didn't see you there.

Of course I'm there.

I'm always there.

Wherever there's a stupid idea,

that's where you'll find me.

Stupid old Woody Boyd--

father of stupid thoughts,

eye of the stupid storm.

I've got to be the stupidest guy on the face of the Earth.

Woody, please don't say that. Why not?

Because you are giving me a stupid headache.

Welcome to my private hell.

Hi, Sam.

How are you doing, honey? Better.

I went home,

went to my bedroom, shut off all the lights

and laid down on my bed.

Then... I started thinking.

What if I was dying and Serafina refused to do

the one thing that meant the most to me.

How would I feel?

So you apologized to your mother?

No. I went out and yelled at Serafina.

I felt a lot better.

So I went and yelled at all the rest of the kids.

Then I started thinking,

why should I be having all this fun

when my mom's dying?

So I decided I had to try to do something for her.

Well, I've got a bunch of these coupon books left.

They're only good for a month,

but I guess in her case, that doesn't matter.

Anyway, all the kids were there,

so I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask them

if anyone would fulfill their grandmother's dying wish

and change their name to Benito Mussolini.

Any takers?

No.

But I got two Madonnas and an MC Hammer.

Well,

that's that.

I tried everything I can.

She didn't try the coupons.

Sam?

God, I hate it when he says that.

What? What? What're you gonna nitpick this time?

What, am I mixing my drinks too loud?

Am I using the wrong kind of lightbulb?

Oh, excuse me, maybe some of my bar air

accidentally wafted up to your establishment.

Sam, you're on the defensive.

I'm not on the defensive, and you say that again,

I'm gonna pull the last three hairs off your head.

Sam, I merely came down to apologize

for my intrusive behavior earlier today.

Really?

Yes.

I know I'd be resentful if someone implied

that I should run my business in a particular way.

It was out of line for me to do so with you.

Oh.

Well... thank you.

I'm sorry, I am a little defensive.

Well, no harm done.

In fact, to clear the air,

I'd like to buy a round of drinks for everyone here.

(cheering)

Here you are, Sam.

I think this should cover it.

Oh, and I'd like one of your special martinis

I've heard so much about.

Oh, I'm out of coupons.

Well, then, never mind.

Hey, Ma.

Gino, what are you doing here?

Well, Ma, I was thinking about all that stuff you said,

you know about-about making Grandma happy,

and I was talking it over with MC and the Madonnas,

and I figured, heck,

if it'll keep this family together,

someone's gotta do it.

Ma, I'll be Benito Mussolini.

Look, Gino,

do you even have any idea who Mussolini was?

Well, no, I didn't before,

but then Anthony told me all about him.

Ma, this guy ran this whole country.

And do you know what they called him?

They called him Il Duce.

Huh? The Dooch.

Hey, yeah, that's right.

It's me-- Dooch Tortelli.

That is a horrible name,

and I never want to hear it again.

It sounds awful. (phone ringing)

I hate that name, and I hate Mama

for asking me to give it to you.

Okay.

Carla, that was your brother.

He said to get over there right away.

Your mother's going fast.

No.

I swore I'd never go back in that house again.

I have my pride.

Okay.

Gino, want to grab her feet-- I'll get the rest of her.

Come here, come here, come on, come on, come on.

No! No! Put me down!

Put me down! I don't want to go!

Would you hoist me a little higher, guys?

I'd like to have some butt left when I get there.

Oh, no.

I'm too late.

Oh, Mama.

Oh, Mama, I'm sorry.

Please forgive me.

I hope you can hear me.

I hope you can rest now.

I swear

on your memory,

that my Gino is now named

Benito Mussolini.

Well, it's about time.

I was getting bedsores.

You're not dead.

You're not dead at all.

You were never dying.

You just did this to trick me.

And you were all in on it.

We listen to our mother.

And we thought it would be funny.

GINO: Ma! No, Ma!

You, you never even had the dream.

You just did this to trick me

into getting to name my kid that stupid name.

I had to.

You're stubborn as your grandmother's mule,

who, incidentally, you were named after.

I honor tradition.

Yeah, well, I'm gonna give you something to honor

right in the labonz!

Ladies, ladies, please, please.

Please. Stay out of this,

if you know what's good for you, Paddy.

Listen, I may be old,

but I can still instruct others to hurt you.

Benito, kick your mother

in the teeth for me. Okay, Grandma.

Don't you order...

Don't you order my son around.

Gino, go punch your grandma in the kidneys.

Okay, Ma.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

You, you're big,

throw Carla out the window.

No, I'm not gonna throw her out the window.

All right.

I'll do it, sick as I am.

Please, please, I...

Mrs. Lozupone, I don't mean to be disrespectful here,

but, you know, you're not being fair.

You're asking your daughter here

to-to name her son after a very bad man.

And-and you faked death

to get her to do it.

I mean, these are not your, uh...

typical mother things.

Are you saying I'm a bad mother?

Well, yeah, in this case, yeah, I am.

(all gasping)

CARLA: Sam.

What?

You insulted my mother.

In her own house.

With the food that we cooked over her deathbed

still stuck in your teeth.

Is that bad?

(all hissing)

(hissing continues)

That's great, Carla.

I'm glad you guys made up.

Well, his name is now Benito Mussolini.

Call him Gino, for short.

Yeah, she sounds so happy.

She said that's the first time they've all sat down

to a family dinner in years.

They ate, they laughed,

they even got up and danced.

Those Italian families sound so warm.

Yeah, I know what you mean, Woody.

Gee, I often wish that I was a member of an ethnic group.

Oh, it's...

Oh, it's just as well.

I hate hugging.

Frasier, it's time to go.

Boy, I-I sure married the right woman.

Good-bye, Mama.

I love you. Mmm.

See you next week.

Oh, wait a minute, I almost forgot something.

Good night, Sammy.

(muffled): Carla, please let me out. Please.

Sammy, would you stop whining?

It's a family tradition.

You cross Mama, you sleep in the wall.

(muffled shouting)

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