Well, Morrie, if you're not cheating on your wife
and she still suspects you, then we're obviously dealing with a trust issue.
MORRIE: More like a crazy issue.
I know where she gets it. From her mother,
who, by the way, came for Thanksgiving and still hasn't left.
Happy New Year.
We should tackle these one at a time.
MORRIE: I'm In the bathroom, Celeste! A little privacy?
- See how she gets? - Perhaps what is needed here...
CELESTE: Think I don't know who you're talking to?
It's your little whore, isn't it?
Hello, whore.
Celeste, if I could interrupt for just a moment...
CELESTE: A man? It's worse than I thought.
MOTHER: Celeste? CELESTE: Hang up, Ma.
MOTHER: You're all on the radio. I'm listening down in the kitchen.
MORRIE: How about washing a dish or two while you're down there?
BRITNEY: I cannot stand this yelling. I'm running away from home.
MORRIE: Oh, hang up the phone, Britney. You're going nowhere.
And neither is this conversation.
Well, that's our show for today with a brief programme note.
My KACL colleagues and I are competing against a team
at KPXY to see who can shed the most pounds for charity.
We're off to our first weigh-in right now.
You can keep track of our progress on Channel 6's Coffee with Kelly.
- Wish us luck. - Okay, everybody.
- Let's power this crap down. - What? Why?
KENNY: The more you eat before the contest,
the more you boost your starting weight.
Yeah, we got cheeseburgers, doughnuts, French fries and tacos.
And a duck confit that's as rich as Donald Trump
and twice as greasy.
Well, it hardly seems in the spirit of the competition.
The entire purpose here is to raise awareness
about the obesity epidemic in this...
Come on, Frasier. The winning team gets a free trip to Vegas.
BULLDOG: Hooray! ROZ: Whoo!
Four glorious days in Sin City with all its gaudy brilliance.
The feathered headdresses, the fishnet stockings.
I'm just wearing an aloha shirt, myself.
Come on, Shempsky, pick up the pace.
I have a digestive disorder where if I eat too much or too little,
I get incapacitating stomach cramps.
It's okay, Noel. You do what's right for you.
But wouldn't a trip to Vegas be really fun?
And remember, what happens in Vegas
stays in Vegas.
Okay. Eat up, doc.
I will do no such thing. It's not fair and it is unsportsmanlike.
Ahh, who's it gonna hurt?
Shake it off, kid. Nobody likes a whiner.
MARTIN: Hey, Niles, Daph. - Oh, no time for chitchat.
Pregnant lady coming through.
- What happened to your wrist? - Oh, uh,
she rolled over in her sleep and pinned me again.
I even saw it coming this time.
Like the big rock in that Indiana Jones movie.
- Does she know she did it? NILES: No, no, no.
I didn't wanna hurt her feelings, so I just... I just, uh,
made Up an excuse.
What is Eddie doing?
Oh, he's waiting for a pigeon friend of his.
We call him Barney.
Flies on the balcony every day and they stare at each other. Ha, ha.
Yes, crazy animals.
- Yesterday they did it for three hours. - Ah.
No, I'm not making it up. I watched them the whole time.
Oh, is your wrist still bothering you, dear?
- Oh, just a little flare-up. - Oh, poor thing slept on it funny.
Woke up screaming like a dying rabbit.
- Hey, Fras, how was the weigh-in? - Well, it was appalling, thank you.
My team-mates ridiculed me for not pigging out beforehand.
You know, what is it about teams and competitions that...
That just brings out the worst in people?
- Here we go again. - What?
Well, Frasier and team sports are not a happy mix.
Freshman year, in a bid to please Dad...
There is no need to tell that story.
Frasier inadvertently joined the girls' field hockey team.
The sign-up sheet said "F. Hockey."
I assumed it meant freshman hockey.
The little plaid skirt didn't tip you off?
I thought it was a kilt.
Well, I'm starving. Where shall we go for dinner?
- What was that? - Aah! Barney.
Oh, uh, Daph, would you take Eddie to my room?
- I don't want him to see this. DAPHNE: Come on, boy.
MARTIN: Oh, how did this happen?
NILES: Now, Dad, birds do fly into windows.
I know. That's why I keep a safety smudge right there.
Where'd it go?
Niles.
I... I'm sorry. It's a reflex.
I don't even know I'm doing it.
Are you happy?
You killed Eddie's little friend. Poor little guy.
Well, what should we do, just kick him over the edge?
- Dad, wait, he's still breathing. - Oh, well, pick him up.
Birds are notorious carriers of disease.
Oh, here, use my hankie.
I'll take my chances.
Now, don't you quit on us, Barney. You're gonna be good as new.
See? That's why we need a safety smudge.
We'll be right back to see how our teams are doing
in the first week of our Fat to Fit Weight Loss Challenge.
So stay right here. Mm.
Hey, look, it's them.
ROZ: Ugh, those robes.
Makes them look like they're in some kind of cult.
Like the high priests of Asmodeus the destroyer.
Asmodeus. Demon of lust, eater of worlds.
Does nobody read my e-mails?
KELLY: Welcome back.
So let's see how our teams fared this week.
Come on in, guys.
- Come on in. Okay. As you know... FRASIER: Kenny.
Who's that last guy on their team?
KENNY: Oh, uh, Wayne Shafter. He's the new general manager.
So we meet again,
Wayne Shafter.
- You know him? - We went to high school together.
He was the captain of the football team, Mr. Popularity,
and my rival for the affections of our Swedish exchange student,
Giselle Johannson-Jansen.
Yeah? So, uh, how'd that work out?
Great.
We got married and had six kids. What do you think?
KELLY: All right...
- Wayne Shafter? - Yeah.
- Frasier Crane. - Hey, F. Hockey.
- What have you been up to? - Oh, you know, not much.
Harvard, Oxford, MD, Ph.D., and then just recently, I...
Hey, you remember that time I took your chess set and made you cry?
You did not make me cry.
I chose to cry as a tactic to elicit sympathy
and thereby regain my chess set.
Ha, ha. I threw it in the dumpster behind the cafeteria, didn't I?
- I don't know. It was never found. - No, I did.
And last up for KACL,
- my old friend Dr. Frasier Crane. - Hi, Kelly. Ha-ha-ha.
- Hey, Fras, good to see you. Get on. FRASIER: Ahh.
Ooh. Ouch.
One pound heavier, Fras.
Well, that can't be. I've added a salad to every meal.
So at the end of one week,
It's KPXY down 17 pounds, KACL down 9.
That's all the time we have.
Join me tomorrow when my guest will be
the senior citizen handbell chorus.
Have a neat day.
Listen, muscle weighs more than fat, you know.
- And the way I've been working out... - Yeah, yeah, save it, lard ass.
WAYNE: Hey, you know, Crane,
when they say take one for the team, they don't mean another cruller.
Oh, shut up, Shafter. You're a cruller.
Oh, give it up. I'll drop you a postcard from Vegas.
I'll tell you what. We are gonna win this competition.
And when we do, you will replace that chess set.
Okay, deal. But if we win, you're showing up at our station
in your little field hockey uniform.
- You're on, you fat scoundrel. - All right. Shake on it.
Psych.
Aw, sorry, sorry. That wasn't cool. Here you go.
Psych. Ha-ha-ha.
Hey, hey, wait a minute. It's not a deal unless we shake on it.
Come on. Come on.
I wouldn't do it for a third time.
- All right. - Psych.
God, I missed you.
- Hello, Martin. - Hey, Dad.
- How's Barney doing? - He's doing a lot better today.
Oh, great. I brought him a treat. Millet and sunflower kernels
with added calcium for beak conditioning.
MARTIN: Mm.
- What happened to your neck? - Oh, fell out of bed.
He's been so accident-prone lately. Every morning it's something else.
Shamu jump the tank again?
Fortunately, I moisturised right before bed
so I squirted out like a watermelon seed.
You all right, son?
- Walked upstairs. - Why did you walk upstairs?
Huh? Burning calories.
Oh, yes, I saw you on TV.
You know that Kelly Kirkland is quite an actress.
I once saw her in a production of Love Letters
with Bill Nye the Science Guy.
Tears.
I have decided to rededicate myself to this diet.
The opposing team is captained
by my old high school nemesis, Wayne Shafter.
- Which one was he? - Thick neck, dead eyes.
Snapped your PBS umbrella.
For the next two weeks, I shall be a speed-walking,
calorie-burning, pound-shedding machine.
Daphne, didn't you purchase
some sort of stomach-tightening apparatus for Dad?
The Ab Blaster or the Flab Buster?
Right. Bring me both of them.
I'll put them together, see if I can get a real good workout going.
FRASIER: So...
Is that bird nesting in my cashmere scarf?
Yeah, we tried a bunch. That's the one he likes best.
All right, that's it. I want that sky rat out of here.
Oh, no. Eddie'll be crushed. The bird's like his pet.
Eddie is a pet. He doesn't get to have a pet.
Well, I guess Barney is pretty well recovered.
MARTIN: Yeah, I guess.
Well, time to go, Barney.
Oh, Eddie, don't worry. He'll come back and visit you.
It's kind of hard letting him go.
Now I know how you must have felt all those times
when you dropped me off at musical-theatre camp.
Sad and frightened.
Lots of emotions, son.
Barney, remember us fondly as you spread your wings
and soar free.
Oh, my God, Barney.
Where did he go? Is he soaring free?
He bounced off the railing and landed on the Cunninghams' balcony.
Dad, look. His wing just moved.
- He's alive. - I'll go get him.
Hurry. Hurry.
Don't you die. I love you, you tough old bird.
Not you, Mrs. Cunningham.
Hey, what did I tell you about smoking in the booth?
Oh, bite me. I need something to kill my appetite
besides your stupid, ugly face!
Gotcha, Bulldog. Ow!
What did I tell you about that?
Thieves. Brigands.
I had three and a half ounces of sashimi-grade ahi in the fridge
- and one of you has stolen it. - Not me.
Well, it wasn't me. And it wasn't Noel.
He thinks I'm gonna do him in Vegas so he's barely eaten in two weeks.
That's why he keeps fainting.
All right, I took it and I liked it. What are you gonna do about it? Ow!
It wasn't even your fish. Ow!
How long was I out that time?
Ten minutes, big boy.
- I've got a bump the size of an egg. - Don't say egg.
- Don't tell me what to say. - I'm still waiting for my ahi.
Put a sock in it, princess.
- How dare you. - How dare you.
ROZ: I'm not eating, stop talking about food.
People, stop it!
Now, listen, I understand that we're all a bit cranky.
Cranky? We're starving.
I'm not sure I can hold on much longer.
We've only got one day more to go.
We can't crack now when we're this close to victory.
All right, everyone. Take a deep breath.
Yes, Roz. Cough it all up. Don't want any extra phlegm weight.
EMPLOYEES: Birthday to you.
- Whose birthday is it? - Gina in Accounting.
Who's Gina again?
Our new chick. So-so face, a little big in the can.
NOEL: Ah. KENNY: Hmm.
Perhaps I'll go wish dear Gina well.
- Hey, good idea. FRASIER: Now, that's the team spirit.
We may be dieting, but we can still nourish ourselves
- on some good office fellowship. BULLDOG: Yeah.
Please give Gina my regards as well.
- Okay, doc, see you. NOEL: Let's go. Bets are on.
Ah, it's a good team. Good people.
Good God.
Wait. It's not worth it!
It's cheesecake!
Will you stop that infernal bouncing?
BULLDOG: No, sir. No, sir. Gotta keep moving.
Constant movement equals constant calorie burning.
You sure you guys don't want some appetite suppressants?
What the hell are those things, anyway?
They're fine, they're fine. They're natural. They have ginseng.
Oh. Oh, come on in, Dad.
Oh, what's going on?
We had a discipline breakdown. We've all agreed
to spend the 12 hours before the weigh-in policing each other.
It's a good thing you had dinner out.
I've purged the apartment of all foodstuffs.
Who's that gentleman on the floor?
ALL: Noel.
He passes out from time to time, but not to worry.
I'm sure the next searing stomach cramp will bring him around.
There you are. You can set your watch by him.
All right, everybody. I believe my bathroom has probably finished
its transformation into a steam room now.
If you'll all join me,
we can relax and sweat off a few extra ounces.
Okay, you heard the doc. Let's go, let's go, let's go.
Hey, Barney. How's my favourite patient?
MARTIN: Hey, making progress.
He doesn't even flinch anymore at the sound of your voice.
He's letting me stroke his wing.
You know what? I'm gonna put this birdseed in a bowl.
Hey. Oh, you know,
there's a sad little fellow who's been dying
to say hello to you all day.
That's better. Eddie, come on, say hello.
Oh, my God, my... Eddie.
- Eddie. NILES: Hey, Dad.
Oh, no.
- I've been thinking. You know... - Shh!
Keep it quiet.
Uh, that wing rub you gave him put him right to sleep.
Well, that's kind of sweet.
- Well, uh, I'll just go home. - MARTIN: Okay.
You know, Dad.
I think he may like me even more than he likes Eddie.
Oh, yeah. No contest.
BULLDOG: How much longer, doc?
Another half an hour.
ROZ: I can't keep my cigarette lit.
NOEL: Roz. Take my hand.
ROZ: Fine, Noel. I'll take your stupid hand.
- Where are you? GIL: Roz.
ROZ: Oh, my God. Put on a towel, you perv.
GIL: If I'd known this went on in steam rooms
I would never have let you lure me in.
All right, just relax, team.
Feel the steam literally melting the pounds away.
KENNY: Oh, I'm about to faint. I'm gonna grab some water.
You sure you wanna leave him alone out there?
He could be on his way to Pizza Hut.
Good point.
I'll just go check on him.
ROZ: It's weird. My skin tastes kind of salty.
BULLDOG: Oh, I'd say mostly sweet, but a little salty.
ROZ: That wasn't me, Bulldog.
GIL: That was me you licked.
And if it happens again, I shall consider it strike one.
Mm.
Kenny,
what did you just eat?
Nothing.
You have a toothpick.
Oh, all right. I couldn't take it anymore.
I only had a mouthful.
- Dear God. BULLDOG: What happened?
This ravenous madman's just eaten a live pigeon.
Oh, no, I didn't. I only had some seeds.
If Kenny gets seeds, we all get seeds.
- Where are they? - No, get away.
- I saw them first. - Oh, give me those.
Stop it! Stop it!
Stop this madness!
Look at yourselves!
Dear God.
We are hours away from victory, and look at you.
Pecking around the floor like a clutch of crazed capons.
Try to conjure up some image to give you strength.
Imagine yourselves winning. Imagine yourselves in Vegas.
I'm still hungry.
Stay out of the hallway. Eddie just threw up a dead pigeon
and now he's eating it again.
BULLDOG: That's it. GIL: All right.
Next up, the final weigh-in in our Fat to Fit Weight Loss Challenge.
So stay right here.
Okay, everybody take off your watches,
jewellery, hairpins, shoes.
Anything that'll add just an ounce of weight.
- Hey, Crane. FRASIER: Hmm?
Looking forward to seeing you in your field-hockey skirt.
Yeah? I'm gonna be so busy playing with that chess set you're gonna buy
that I won't even have time to put on my skirt.
- Not that I still have it. KELLY: Welcome back.
And here they are. Come on in, folks.
- KPXY, you're up first. BULLDOG: Okay, guys.
- Here's the plan. KELLY: Now for the moment of truth.
I'll stand in the middle, you surround me and lift me up
so I'm not even touching the scale.
What? Ahem.
Wow. You have lost an impressive 44 pounds, two ounces.
MAN: Yeah. That's the way to do it. - Great job, guys.
I see giant steaks with legs.
You're hallucinating.
- Just pull it together. - Uh, no, he's right.
It's the Beef Council Dancers. They're on after us.
Okay, team KACL, up you go.
FRASIER: Here we go.
Oh, my goodness. Forty-four pounds even.
- You lose by two ounces. - No.
No, I am not getting emphysema for this.
- Cut me. - I can't.
Cut me, damn it.
Oh, my God.
Oh.
Forty-four pounds, three ounces. They're going to Vegas!
Congratulations, guys. Wow.
Don't go away. When we come back,
we have a little dance number that's both rare and well done.
Okay, Crane, you won.
Yes, I did, Shafter.
So where do I pick up this chess set?
The Rook Nook. Ask for Cyril.
Tell him you were sent by Dr. Frasier Crane.
Psych... iatrist.
BULLDOG: All right.