You know, I heard the most extraordinary thing on the radio today.
I know. Rubinstein's torrid survey of the Chopin mazurkas.
Took all my strength not to turn the car around, drive home and ravish my wife.
- That Daphne is one lucky lady. - Ha, ha.
No, I was referring to the fact that Maris has been released on bail.
Oh, yes. Of course, she's still under house arrest until her murder trial.
Poor thing has to wear an electronic tracking device on her ankle.
And she can't keep the press off her back.
They're printing the most vicious stories about her.
- I saw one of those. - Mm.
Is it true that she fired one of the gardeners
because she found a worm on the front walk?
Well, to be fair, Maris has always been frightened and disgusted by them.
It's just a stupid worm.
No, I'm talking about gardeners.
- Guys. - Hey, why don't you pull up a chair?
- Thanks. - You're looking sharp.
- I don't think I've seen this jacket. - I don't wear it often.
But, you know, sometimes when I do, I find all kinds of junk in the pockets.
It's like I'm putting on a time capsule or something.
Oh, here, here's something from the world of yesterday.
Dear God, Dad. That's my home insurance payment.
I asked you to mail this three months ago.
Oh, jeez, I'm sorry, Fras.
You see what I mean about the jacket?
I can still see him giving me that envelope.
No wonder my agent's been calling. My policy's probably been cancelled.
Yes, Jim Sundquist, please.
Yeah, Jim, it's Frasier Crane.
Yes, I know. I've just discovered that myself.
Listen, uh, how much to renew?
What?
Well, I'm gonna have to think that over.
Uh...
Right. I'll... I'll call you.
Thanks, Jim.
Scandinavian shyster.
Cold-hearted, glad-handed, highway robber phoney,
big-toothed, smiling son of a bitch insurance man!
Not you, Jim. Love to Marie.
Damn, I'm gonna have to pay twice as much.
Oh, well, why don't you just find another insurer?
Oh, you know who you should talk to? Ann Hodges.
Roz, have you lost your mind? I don't wanna see that woman.
- Who is she? - Oh, it's a friend of Roz's.
We had a stunningly bad date
during which my behaviour was less than chivalrous.
You ate her ravioli,
then hit on another woman in the same restaurant.
Which I concede was less than chivalrous.
The least you could do is throw her some business.
She just did mine. She did a great job
and she can rush this through for you. Here's her card.
You should be covered, Frasier. God forbid something happens.
A pipe bursts, or Dad screws up again.
Remember the Great Bacon Fire of '98?
I suppose spending ten minutes with the woman won't kill me.
Oh, for God's sake, Jim, hang up already!
Well, this is me. Uh...
Thanks again for holding the elevator, Caroline.
Well, you did throw your briefcase into it.
Yes, yes, well, you'd be surprised how many people just kick it back out
and then push the close button. Ha, ha.
You know, maybe I could repay you by taking you to dinner some evening.
Yeah, I'd like that. How about next Monday?
Perfect. Why not stop by my place first for a drink, uh, around 6:00?
- Sounds good. - Great.
Um...
Thanks again and sorry about the briefcase.
You might wanna put some ice on that ankle. Ha, ha.
- Hi, Fras. - Hi, Dad.
- What have you got there? - Made a sandwich from your chicken.
Also known as quail.
You could get a plate before you start dripping mayonnaise.
Oh, relax. I'm almost done.
Oh, and by the way, until this home is insured,
once again, there will be no more barbecuing or deep-frying.
- That include the hot plate? - Since when do you have a hot plate?
Since I figured out how to plug it in. In one outlet, I have my TV, aquarium,
clock radio and that old space heater.
Well, unplug everything.
- Hello, Frasier. - Hello, Ann.
Uh, please, won't you come in?
Uh, this is my father, Martin Crane.
- Oh, I've heard all about you. - Hi.
Frasier and I used to go out.
Oh.
Well, I'll be in my room.
So this is kind of weird, huh?
Yes, but I hope that your being here means that you've forgiven me.
Well, I was pretty steamed after that date
but my shrink helped me work through the rage.
Good thing you didn't walk in front of my car on the street.
For the first few weeks there, I would've just gotten out
- and given you a good kick. - Well...
And I would've deserved one too. Here, let me take your coat, Ann.
You're going to want to, uh, take a look around the place
before you write up the policy.
Oh, very nice.
Oh, thank you. Thank you very much.
Hey, this guy looks like my ex.
I'm just kidding. He wasn't black.
Can I get you something to drink?
Oh, just a glass of water. But I'll get it. I wanna see your kitchen.
Wow, schmancy.
And so clean.
You know, there's a homosexual couple that lives in my building
and their kitchen is like a pigsty compared to yours.
Whoops. Spoke too soon.
Someone dripped a little bit of mayonnaise...
Ann?
Boy, who'd have thunk a little mayo on the floor
could end up breaking your leg?
- So how's that cast feeling? - Okay.
I'm worried about my apartment though.
It's a 4th-floor walkup.
Oh, dear. Well, is there a friend or a family member
we could call to come and get you?
No, just my mom and she lives in Portland.
Uh-oh.
Uh-oh? What's that supposed to mean?
If you screwed anything up, I will sue you blue, buddy boy.
No, no, it's nothing.
- The bulb burned out. - Oh.
- Now let's find you a pair of crutches. - Okay.
Watch it on the turns there, doc. Ha, ha.
Precious cargo.
I hope you enjoyed your sandwich.
It may end up costing me my apartment.
You think she'll sue you?
Oh, come on, Dad, she's an insurance woman.
If anybody knows anything about milking money out of an injury, it's her.
- Won't your insurance cover her? - I have no insurance!
All right.
You know what? Why don't you just try to get on her good side?
Pay all her expenses.
Maybe throw in a private nurse for a few days.
Oh, that's good, that's good.
But she's too dangerous to be left to her own thoughts.
We gotta try the personal approach.
I tell you what, why don't we invite her
to spend a few days recuperating in our apartment?
Ugh!
Friends do not sue friends.
Ooh. My pits are barking already.
Ann, uh, listen, Dad and I were just talking.
We thought maybe you should just stay at our place
until you get used to your crutches.
- Really? - Sure. That's what friends do.
Thanks. Well, I'll call my super
and have him send over some clothes and my trumpet,
and we're good to go.
Do you play the trumpet?
Oh, I just started.
It's really hard.
- Hey! - Oh, sorry.
Damn it, Frasier, I just walked in on your insurance lady
taking a sponge bath.
Dear God, which sponge?
A small one.
Been the longest two days of my life.
Well, what do you think? It's been a vacation for me?
I have cooked her meals, I have massaged her feet.
I have also applauded wildly
to her trumpet rendition of "Froggy Went A-Courtin'."
But I have won her over.
There will be no discussion of a lawsuit tomorrow
when I send her a-packing. Ha, ha.
- Oh, hi, Niles. - Hey, Frasier. Hey, Dad.
Brace yourself. I finally got around to returning your escargot clamps.
Oh. Well, thank you, Niles.
That's what those are.
I've been using them to pull ticks off Eddie's coat.
- Sherry? - Yes, thank you.
- I have Maris news. - Mm?
She's auctioning off some of her things
to help pay for her defense.
She's letting me come by first to claim anything I want.
Well, this is my chance to seize and destroy my boudoir painting.
What's that?
Oh, well, years ago, Maris and I got the idea in our heads
to commission portraits of a...
Well, a quasi-erotic nature.
Dear God.
Continue.
Well, Maris was depicted as a doe-eyed wood nymph,
while in my painting, I am the satyr Pan.
A louche, sybaritic goat-man
with a depraved appetite for all things sensual.
I forgot to lock that door.
- Your dad sure got an eyeful. - Yes, uh...
Bumbling old man. I'm terribly sorry.
Well, no birthday gift for him this year. He's had it.
- Hi, Niles. - Hello, Ann.
It's so nice to see you. I'm sorry I can't stay.
You're leaving?
- You're always leaving. - Oh, just lately.
- Bye. - Bye-bye, Niles.
Uh, well, heh.
Wait till you see what I've made you for dinner this evening.
Mac and cheese with sliced hot dogs.
Oh.
You keep pampering me this way, it'll be hard to go home next month.
Next month?
Well, let's cross our fingers.
My bones tend to knit slowly.
Uh...
Well, aren't you afraid to leave your apartment untended
for a whole month?
Not a problem. I just sublet it this morning to a girl from work.
If she chips so much as one of my porcelain piggies,
I'll sue her six ways to Sunday.
If you wanna beat her to death with one of her crutches,
I can show you how to make it look like an accident.
Here is everything.
I tell Mrs. Crane you are here.
Uh, thank you, Marta.
Wow. Maybe I can find something nice for Ronee here.
This whole Ann thing has got me practically living over there.
Look at this fancy backscratcher.
That's not exactly what it is.
Every winter, Maris would fly down to the private island
her family owns in the South Pacific.
On Christmas, she'd let the native children come by
and fish coins from her fountains.
Oh. Some kind of coin scooper, huh?
No, it's a stick with a claw on the end of it
in case any of the children got too close to her.
Uh... Ha! I found me.
Daphne, avert your eyes.
Let's get this thing wrapped up and in my trunk.
Oh, jeez! How could you stand to look at yourself like that?
I never had to. It was in Maris' bedroom.
Uh, Marta? Tell Maris we'll be back to say goodbye.
- Yes, Dr. Crane. - Thank you.
You were right, Mrs. Crane. They take the painting right away.
Now drink your protein shake. You have a long trip ahead of you.
Oh, very good, Mrs. Crane.
You drink a lot.
What? Too much?
Okay.
Oh, here they come.
I tell you...
Can we leave now? This place gives me the chills.
It was designed to. Just let me say goodbye to Maris
- and we'll be off... - Doctor! Doctor!
What is it, Marta?
I no find Mrs. Crane.
I go up to her room and all there is, is this note.
Dear God.
She says she doesn't believe she can get a fair trial
and she can't face life in prison,
so she's going to hurl herself off the State Senator Harry R. Burton Bridge.
Marta, when was the last time you saw Maris?
- Just before you come. - We can still catch her.
Don't panic. She has that tracking device.
The cops will stop her.
Yes, but if we can catch her, maybe I can talk her down.
Perfect, Mrs. Crane.
I put the tracking bracelet behind the painting just like you say.
The workmen will take you in a minute.
What?
Okay.
Hey, Frasier, I'm glad I caught you. Did you just get home?
No, I've been here a while.
I can't bring myself to go in.
Not with her in there.
She's getting better.
Look, I did you a favour. My lawyer drew up this document.
It releases you from all liability if you just get Ann to sign it.
Oh, Roz, there's no way I'm gonna get her to sign this.
But I have a better plan.
I've just booked passage for her and her mother
on a two-week cruise to Alaska.
That way, I'll get her out of my home but she'll still feel like we're friends.
- Hmm. Not a bad idea. - Ha, ha.
- Good luck with that. - Thank you.
Roz, I've been meaning to ask you,
how did you ever become friends with Ann?
I mean, she's not really your type, is she?
Oh, we're not really friends. I rear-ended her in 1989.
Well, I say divorce him and take him to the cleaners.
When you play with someone's heart, you deserve to pay bigtime.
My ex sure did.
Yes, he's still living in his van and he's lucky I let him keep that.
Listen, I gotta go.
My Bunny's home and he's looking so handsome.
Okay, I'll call you later.
You. Alaska?
- Oh, the tickets arrived. - You bet they did.
I just called my mother and she's thrilled.
Well, I hoped she would be.
She can't believe that you're taking me to Alaska.
- You told her I was taking you? - Don't worry.
I told her your intentions were honorable.
But they better not be.
Ann'?
You know, I've been wondering all week,
why is Frasier keeping me here?
He could have just sent me home with a nurse.
But then I got these and I figured it out.
You've got a thing for me.
Well, I've got news for you, Romeo.
You hold that thought,
while Bunny goes and pours himself a big old glass of wine.
Uh...
- Caroline. - Hi, Frasier. Am I early?
- Uh... - Who are you?
Uh, just a neighbour.
- Is our date still on? - Date?
No.
Since we made our plans, Caroline,
I've met someone else.
Me. So beat it.
- Frasier? - Just go.
Well, someone's quite the tomcat.
I don't know what I'm gonna do with you.
I don't know what I'm gonna do with you either.
Hey. Hey, Bunny, what's this?
Oh, it's nothing. Just some work stuff.
It's got my name on it.
It's a liability release.
Oh, my gosh, you think I'm gonna sue you.
No.
So that's why you've been so nice to me.
Because you're afraid of a lawsuit.
- So this whole romance was a fake. - No.
- You were leading me on. - No, never.
Well, I've got news for you.
Nobody plays with my heart.
I should sue you.
I... I realise that you're angry now, Bunny.
You're Bunny! I'm calling a lawyer.
All right, fine!
Go ahead and sue. I am fed up with this charade.
This was an accident.
I have cared for you, I have waited on you,
I have pumiced your heels, and set your hair!
Well, if that's not enough for you, so be it.
I don't care anymore.
I will not beg.
You can take me to the cleaners but you cannot take my dignity.
Okay. See you in court.
Oh, dear God, please, no. Please, no, no, please?
Please, please don't sue me.
My things.
My beautiful, beautiful things. I... I love them so.
- Are you crying? - No.
Gross.
Frasier, pull yourself together.
I'll sign your stupid paper.
You will?
God, to think I had a thing for you.
Can I pick them or what?
Thank you, Ann.
I'm sorry it had to come down to all this legal business.
If it were up to me, I would tear up this piece of paper
and forget everything that's happened here.
And, uh, here.
And here.
Yes, officer, we're headed east on Highway 61 toward the bridge.
Do you have read on her tracking bracelet yet?
They say she just passed Exit 29.
We just passed Exit 29. I don't see anyone ahead of us.
- Do you suppose we passed her? - There is a car behind us.
Pull over immediately.
- You were a cop. What do we do? - Pull over immediately.
We don't have time for this. We need to get to the bridge.
According to her tracking device, your wife's in this vehicle.
- But that's absurd. - And she's his ex-wife.
Oh, no, the press is here.
Open the trunk, sir.
Uh, look, look, please, there's an item of a very personal nature in there.
- If you could keep the media away... - Now.
See? See? No Maris.
Oh, ah, careful with that.
That's what I didn't... Watch it!
Oh, jeez.
What the hell is that?
It's Pan, the satyr,
a minor god of mischief, debauchery, and fornication.
That's what our son would look like if I were a goat.
There's your tracking device right there.
She conned us.
Well, you have your bracelet, so I'll just take my painting.
- Sorry, sir, this is evidence. - No, no, no!
"So I shipped myself to our private island,"
where, like dear Uncle Julius, I will be immune from extradition.
Thank you all and forgive me. Best regards, Maris.
P.S. Big ups to all my homeys in lockdown.
"Stay black, Cellblock D."
So you were the decoys.
- It's ingenious. - Mm-hm.
How'd she get the tracking bracelet off?
Mm. Apparently, she swallowed a salt tablet
to make her ankles swell before they fitted her
and when the swelling went down, the bracelet just slipped right off.
So that's it.
No more Maris.
Strange to think I'll never see her again.
She was a pain but she was a character.
Well, then,
let's drink a toast to her. Oh, there's just a drop left.
Perfect. I can't think of a more fitting toast.
Heh. Dad.
There we go.
To Maris.