All language subtitles for Cheers.S05E10.1080p.BluRay.x264-BORDURE

Cheers is filmed
before a live studio audience.

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5-5-5, 6...

You're listening to the rocking sounds
of J.J. Lightning...

Of all the stinking, dirty, rotten,

maggot-sucking,
vermin-infested stinkweeds!

Practicing for that
mother-of-the-year speech again, Carla?

Shut up.

What seems to be the problem?

I've been planning my Elvis pilgrimage
to Memphis for weeks,

and now Nick is backing out
of taking care of the kids.

Says his appendix burst.

That seems serious to me.

His appendix bursts
every time I need a favor.

If he was smart,
he'd have that removed.

- Hello, one and all.
- Hello.

- How are you, love of my life?
- Just fine, pain in my neck.

The most exciting thing has happened.
You'll never guess.

I got a letter from Zzygy.

- Stop it.
- Yeah.

All right, all right. Who's Zzygy?

It's not a who.
It's a new literary review

dedicated to publishing the prose and poetry

That's right on the cutting edge.

Well, I for one am excited for you, Diane.

There, it passed.

Let me have a look at it.
What does the letter say?

Well, I submitted one of my poems
for publication, and...

Quite honestly, I was overwhelmed
by the response.

It was more than I could ever
have hoped for.

But, I blush. Read it.
It speaks for itself.

This is a rejection letter.

It's not a rejection letter per se,

it's a soon-and-inevitably-to-be
accepted letter.

Listen to this.

"Your work is not entirely
without promise."

They're almost begging
for another submission.

Boy, I hope you don't get your hopes
up there too high,

because that looks like
a form letter to me.

Poor Sam.

This really threatens you,
doesn't it?

Let me assure you that I can heed
my man as well as my muse.

Zzygy would not even have bothered
to respond to my letter

if they hadn't perceived me
as an up-and-coming literary talent.

This is just like you.

You turn every defeat
into a victory.

It's like the time when I said
that I didn't want to see you anymore,

then you all of a sudden
start making wedding plans.

Sam, we can talk about the wedding later.
I have work to do.

You know, I bet I could
send a poem to that magazine

And get the same letter
back that you did.

Sam, you don't want
to write a poem.

Poetry is very, very difficult.

What's the big deal?
All you got to do is rhyme.

Most great modern poetry

doesn't necessarily have to rhyme.

Well, that's even easier, isn't it?

Fine.

Fine, fine, fine.

Go ahead.

Write your little poem.

You don't think I can even write
a stupid poem.

Of course you can.

Don't forget to capitalize
the first letter.

I'm going to do this. I'm gonna show you
That I can be as much of a reject as you.

I told you I was not rejected.

Whatever.
Now, if you'll excuse me,

I have a little creating to do.

Coffee.

Any of you guys
know how to write poetry?

I know how to make fun of them.

Great, Nick. That's wonderful.

You're not as much of a scum-bucket
as I thought you were.

No, it's not an attempt
at reconciliation.

Nick's gonna take care
of the kids.

Graceland, here I come.

Hey, all right.

Didn't you go to Graceland last year?

Yeah, but this is special.

I mean, how many times does the 10th anniversary
of Elvis' death roll around?

Don't ask me. I wasn't a fan.

Hi, Sam.

Hello.

Sam, have you received
that rejection letter

For your poem yet?

No, I haven't.

Hmm.

The letter I received

arrived within two weeks
of my submission.

And here it is three weeks,
and nothing for you.

- Isn't that odd?
- Odd.

What's this?

It's that magazine you couldn't get
your poetry into.

Thank you, Woody.
I mean, what is it doing here?

Well, I decided if
I'm going to try to write it,

I might as well read
some of that poetry stuff.

Sam, that's
very commendable.

I didn't realize the new issue was out.

Yeah, it's not bad either.
They got one I really like.

Page 37, I believe.

Yeah, read it out loud.

It will be good for me to hear.

All right, Nocturne, by Sam malo--

Now, woo, Diane, come on, please.
Books are our friends.

Page 37 there.

- Yes, thank you.
- Yeah.

Well, Diane Chambers is nothing
if not open-minded.

Perhaps you do have some spark of talent.

- They published your poem, huh?
- Yeah.

Don't let it get out, though,
that I'm a sensitive guy.

Very well, I've arrived
at my objective opinion.

This is one of the most amateurish,

hackneyed, odious pieces of effluvium
ever to wash down the pike.

Listen to this drivel.

"I fly through Epochosherina,

where echoes dance,
where echoes dance,

where echoes dance..."

This sounds familiar.

Well, you said it three times.

This poem is plagiarized.

Oh, now I stole it.
A minute ago, you said it stunk.

It does stink. Leave it to you

to not have the sense
to steal something worthwhile.

I realize that it's tough

to have somebody come along
and swipe your dreams of glory,

so I will not take offense
at that remark.

That poem is fraudulent.

And I intend to find its true source,

even if I have to search
through every greeting card to do so.

Believe me, Sam Malone,
I will not rest until today,

the blackest day in the history of literature,
is blotted out for all eternity.

Diane, I think you're getting overexcited.
Why don't you just calm down?

And I tell you, I've just come
from my coping with anxiety group.

I have just the trick.
Now, here.

Put this over your head and breathe.

I assure you,
I'm in complete control.

I think the bag's a good idea anyhow.

It's been proven
time and time again.

Reincarnation breaks
no physical laws as we know them.

You know, I was thinking about this
the other day.

I think in my next life,

I'd like to come back
as the president of France.

Why is that, Wood?

I think it would attract
lots of business to the bar.

Coffee, Woody.

Sure thing, Miss Chambers.

I'll take the pot.

What's with Diane there?

She's still searching for Sam's poem.

Dr. Crane, I think you ought
to talk to her.

I mean, all she does
is read, read, read.

I bet she goes through
a book a week.

Uh, Diane,

Diane, you don't smoke.

What's your point?

Hey, there.

Still looking for that poem, huh?

I'm sure it's a postwar piece.

It's not British--
the syntax is wrong.

I have a hunch it might be regional.

You may not believe this,

but I do sympathize
with you.

It's not easy to watch those people
you scoffed at

Run past you while you remain
stuck in the mud,

like a weighted-down
elephant.

I made that up.

Does this mean you've stopped
trying to get your poetry published?

Not at all.

I'm diligently
producing new work.

Well, that's good.
I'd love to talk to you about it.

How's it going, Diane?

- You'd like to know how it's going?
- Yeah/

This is how it's going.
I'm totally blocked.

I can't write
another word.

Hmm.

Hurricane of wills--
unfinished.

The death of a shallow man--
unfinished.

A bartender dismembered...

Unfinished.

I suffer failure after failure

while you, a despoiler
of the English language,

are lionized
in front of the world.

That's how it's going.

Well, maybe this little literary chat
wasn't such a good idea.

Want to make out?

- Well.
- Make out?

Diane, now, listen. I think the joke's gone
far enough, don't you?

You haven't eaten
a decent meal in a week.

You're living off of cigarettes and coffee.
For God's sake,

this little literary magazine's circulation
must be, what, 600?

That's just the beginning.

You see, the original 600 readers

Drop their copies on buses...

And taxicabs and doctors' offices,

and another 600 people
pick them up

And take them to the airport
where they go all over the country.

Then they get taken
on international flights,

Tierra del Fuego,
Sierra Leone,

all the remotest parts
of the world.

And soon, I defy you to find me a house,

a hut, an igloo, or a wickiup

that doesn't have a copy
on the coffee table.

- Diane, I--
- Then, then,

everyone in the world,
every living thing

Will be laughing at me

Because he got published
and I did not!

- Hi, everybody. I'm back.
- Hey, hey, Carla.

How was the trip?

Greatest vacation
I have ever taken in my life.

Graceland
does not disappoint.

And to commemorate
the special anniversary,

I had this picture taken of me and Elvis.

- How do they do that?
- They use cardboard cutouts.

You know, you look
almost life-like here.

So do you, Woody.

Woody, more coffee.

Okay, Miss Chambers.

I got something to cheer you up.

I sent in a poem to that magazine
of yours.

Oh, my God, don't tell me.

They published yours, too?

No. I got one of your

Soon-and-inevitably-to-be-accepted letters.

Huh? that's pretty exciting.

Oh, my God.
Sam was right.

Sam the bard.

Form letter all along.

We two were sent
a condescending form letter.

I'm framing mine.

Hi.

You okay?

You win, Sam.

I've struggled so hard
for so long

To keep my dreams alive,
and I haven't fooled anyone but myself.

I know all along you all considered me
a pretentious, self-deluded windbag.

Apparently, you've all been right.

I'm never going to be Diane Chambers,
the great poet,

the world famous novelist,
the revered artist.

I've gone as high as I'm going to go.

I'm a waitress in a beer hall.

And not a very good one.

A waitress.

A waitress.

A waitress.

Miss, could you
take our order?

Come on. Let's go have a talk
in my office.

Come on, sweetheart.

Okay, come on, sweetheart. Come on.
Sit in the big chair.

Okay, I have something
I have to say here. And I...

I just want you to promise,
before I say it,

that you--
that you won't go crazy.

Don't worry. I've hit rock bottom.

I have
no emotions left.

All right. Um...

I, uh, I did copy that poem.

You are scum.

I tried to
make one up myself,

but I just couldn't,
So I copied one.

I never thought
it would be published, I promise.

What could you possibly have been
thinking of, Sam?

It obviously had been published
to begin with.

No, nope. No, it hadn't.

Well, then please tell me.
I think you owe me that much.

Where did it come from?

Actually, it came from a letter
that you wrote to me.

One of my letters?

Mm-hmm. when you didn't recognize it
out there, I decided to play it out

And rub your smug little nose in it.

I'm sorry. I probably went too far.

Oh, my God. It's one of mine.

How could I not recognize
this exquisite fluidity?

The characteristic Chambers grace

In the face of hard imagery?

- You told me that it stunk.
- Sam, I'm a poet, not a critic.

- I'm published!
- Yeah!

I'm published!

Oh, this is so exciting.

This is like the first time I ever--

Rode a bicycle.

Well, this is great.
you're not mad.

Mad? I'm elated!

Hey! I'm elated, too.

Oh, what a glorious day.

I'm going to go
do what poets do--

Drink myself stinky.

Wait a minute.

This always happens.

You always squirm out
of these things unscathed.

You did a terrible thing!

I know I did.

No, you don't.

You put me through hell.

This time it's
going to be different.

I'm going to make you suffer.

What are you going to do?

I don't know.

Yes, I do.

You're going out there
and admit to everyone

that you stole
this poem from me.

Come on, you mean I have to go out
and tell the whole bar

That I'm not a poet?

You sure do, mister. Let's go.

Oh!

What, what, what?

What are you doing?

Oh, yeah.

I've heard about this.

You want to go
back to my place

And ride a bike?

Don't you ever, ever again
try to tell me that you don't love me.

Ah, God, every time I think
I'm about to get my hedge clipped,

you start talking about love,
and it's just not fair.

You saved my love letters.

I was so excited about
being a published poet

It didn't sink in
at first, but this proves it,

you love me now
as you always did--

Madly and completely.

Hey, wait, listen to me.

I did not save your letters.

- Where did this come from?
- I found it in my apartment.

I got pizza boxes that old that have
more meaning. Come on.

Sam Malone, look me in the eyes
and tell me you don't love me.

If you can do that, then I'll have
no choice but to believe you.

Oh, boy. I'm sorry, but...

I don't love you, Diane.

I thought I did once,

but I was wrong.

There's nothing going on
between us here.

I mean, it's all over.

Very well. That was in the eyes,
wasn't it?

I guess I'll go before I make
a bigger fool of myself.

Aha!

What the hell
are you doing?

I came to catch you in a lie.

Don't I know my darling
better than anyone else?

Okay, so I kept some
of your letters. Big deal.

I mean, that doesn't prove anything.
I mean, I've got lots of junk in here.

Look at this. I save all
sorts of things--

Look at that. Where is it?

A warranty to my toaster.
Look at that.

My letter.

A ticket. Here--here it is.

A ticket to
the 1980 boat show.

Your protests
only prove my point.

Poker chips,
three poker chips--

Sam, I was thinking.

When we finally do get married,

- we could move to the country.
- A whistle, a double "c" battery--

I know how much
you love me.

Sam...

Four paper clips.