Cheers (1982–1993): Season 6, Episode 7 - The Last Angry Mailman - full transcript

Cheers is filmed before
a live studio audience.

Let's just concentrate
on the, uh, left side, okay?

Yeah.

We have a boy.

No, no, wait, wait. It's a girl.

It's a boy again. This is weird.

All right, maybe
it's a girl. I-I...

Still trying to figure
out what Carla is, huh?

No, Cliff, we're trying to find
out what sex my babies are.

See, if the ring goes
back and forth, it's a boy.

If it goes around
in a circle, it's a girl.



And if it just dangles there
doing nothing, it's a Clavin.

I can tell you something

we used to, uh, do on the farm.

We'd take a fresh
laid chicken egg

and we'd put on a spoon

and hold it over the
woman's stomach.

If it dipped down,
it was female, if not,

male.

So how often did you
predict the sex of the babies?

Never. This was to predict
the sex of the chicken.

All right, you take
a spoon, right?

♪ 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. ♪

Good afternoon, everybody.

Sam, you got you room
for one more tosspot?

Let me have a beer, will you?

You betcha.

How you been there, Frasier?

Well, you know how it is for a
psychiatrist this day and age.

Divorces, hopelessness
over financial situations,

rampant paranoia.

Thriving, never better.

Oh, and get this.

I just heard a little bit
of information about

someone with whom
we're all acquainted.

Is it juicy?

Well, yes.

Could it embarrass someone?

Oh, most definitely.

Is it me?

No.

Spill it.

Well, I had lunch today
with an ex-colleague of mine

who attended the
University of Connecticut

at the same time as a
certain Miss Rebecca Howe.

Now, it seems that this

particular Rebecca Howe

was known as...
Well, let's just say it...

The party girl on campus.

Our Rebecca?

Miss Granite Panties?

The one who goes through life
with her knees bolted together?

It's got to be a mistake.

Yeah, yeah...

So, does anyone know
what college ours went to?

It wouldn't surprise me
one bit if it was Rebecca.

I don't know.
No, I mean, it's us

quiet, reserved types who,
when properly stimulated,

turn into your average
churning hunk of burning funk.

Now, Cliffie, uh,

can you tell me exactly

at what point in your life

you came to that
big fork in the road

where reality took a left
and you hung a sharp right?

Excuse me, is there
a Cliff Clavin here?

Uh, would Mr. Clavin
know what this is about?

Yeah, I'm a neighbor
of his, Jim McNulty.

His mother said he'd be here.

All right, just a minute.

Uh, Mr. Clavin, you here

for a Jim McNulty?

Uh, yeah, yeah, sure.

Uh, you know how it
is. Some guys in bars

don't like you to
know they're here.

Hey, Cliff, remember me?

Yeah, yeah. Jim McNulty.

You own a house
down at the corner.

You ever going to take
those Christmas lights down?

Yeah, as soon as
a weekend goes by

you don't have
another garage sale.

Listen, I, uh, I've
been going around

to good neighbors like yourself

hoping I can get your support.

Well, uh...

what am I looking at here?

Oh, it's a petition

agreeing not to sell out
to these big developers

who've been trying
to buy up our houses

and build mini malls.

Jimbo, Jimbo, Jimbo.

You know, new development

only increases property values.

I wouldn't sign that petition
if you beat me senseless.

You know, it may be too late,

but let's give it a try.

You know, I'll never
understand people like you.

You got no conscience,
no sense of community,

no interest in keeping
our neighborhood beautiful.

If you, uh, want to
beautify the neighborhood,

why don't you stay indoors?

Yeah, at least I don't
live with my mother.

I don't blame you;
I've seen your mother.

Yeah, my mother's a saint.

Yeah... Saint Bernard.

Oh, yeah?

Forget it.

Ah, I'm outta luck.

Somebody's already
using the pool table.

The lady in question.

Sam, Sam, find out
where she went to college.

Yeah, okay.

Afternoon, Sam.

Hey, boss.

How's business
today? Oh, pretty slow.

Me and the guys
just sitting around

talking about where
everybody went to... college.

You were?

Well, I was wondering
what it would be like

to go to... college.

Well,

picture a place
with 20,000 people

all acting the way you do.

Sounds like fun.

Listen, uh, where
did you go to...

college?

The University
of... Connecticut.

Am I missing something here?

No, no, no, no, not at all.

We, uh, we're just, uh,

such big fans of
their football team,

you know, the fighting...

insurance salesmen.

Boy, oh, boy.

Don't you just love this
Yorkshire pudding, Ma?

That's a real delicacy.

The English didn't think so.

Actually, Yorkshire pudding
was invented in the late 1770s

during a beef shortage.

A person could be
given a little bit of beef

and soak up the
gravy with the pudding,

thereby fooling his
stomach into thinking

he was having a fuller
dinner than he actually was.

And you wonder why
nobody asks us out anymore.

So how was your day?

Ah, okay, Ma.

Oh, our neighbor,
Nut Butt McNulty

stopped in Cheers today.

He was, uh, circulating
some kind of petition.

The one to stop development?

Yeah. I signed it.

You did?

Well, who in his
right mind wouldn't?

Besides you, of course.

Ma, we-we-we're
for progress here.

If we don't stop these people,
we could lose our home.

Well, it's probably about time

we got out of this
rattrap anyway.

Clifford.

This "rattrap" is where you,

for want of a better
term, grew up.

I think it's time somebody
looked at the scrapbook.

Aw, come on, Ma.

Not the scrapbook.

Yes, Clifford, the scrapbook.

Misty watercolor memories
of the way we were.

Oh. Look at this one.

Ah...

No, Ma. I'm not gonna look.

You're not gonna
get me this time.

Oh, we had fun that day.

Ma!

It is not working.

Oh, I'd forgotten this one.

This has got to be the
handsomest picture of you

I ever laid eyes on.

Which?

Oh, Ma, come on.

My ears are even
covered with acne.

I'm your mother, Clifford.

I'm looking at your soul.

Ah, there's me sliding
down the old banister.

I always thought you spent

entirely too much
time doing that.

Eh...

Eh, it was fun.

Oh, look, there's your favorite

hiding place in the closet.

Yeah, yeah.

You used to be
in there for hours.

Yeah.

Well, that's 'cause

you always locked
the door on me, Ma.

Well, look at the result.

You're a very polite young man.

Oh, now there's where we planted

the elm tree in the yard.

Yeah.

Oh, you named him Elmer.

Mm-hmm.

And look at our Elmer now.

So tall and strong.

Just like my boy.

Yeah, yeah, I can remember
raising him from a sapling, Ma.

I even carved

my first slingshot
out of his branches.

And cried every winter
when the leaves fell.

Yeah, yeah, that tree is
like a brother to me, Ma.

Just imagine, you know,
something that I planted,

and I nurtured,
is gonna be there

for future generations to enjoy.

Unless they chop it down
to put up a Jiffy Lube.

Come on, Ma, they
wouldn't do that, would they?

They'll do that as
soon as look at you.

Well...

Oh, Ma, no, they won't.

Oh...

No, Ma...

They're not gonna
cut down my tree!

A-and they're not gonna
touch this house either!

And they're not
gonna take our land!

That's my boy.

Where are you going?

Well, it may sound
a little bit silly

and all, Ma, but, uh...

I'm gonna go out
there and sit in my tree.

You got right ahead.

Never fails.

Well, uh, interestingly enough,

Yorkshire pudding was
invented in the 1700s

during a beef shortage.

All right, stop everything.

I've got a major news flash.

I just had lunch
with Miss Howe's

former college classmate

and it seems that she
had a nickname at UConn.

Give, give.

Well, he wasn't sure
how she came by

this appellation, but it
seems that at some point

during her little sojourn there,

she became known
as "Backseat Becky."

Boy.

What do you suppose that means?

Woody.

What that means is when Miss...

Cliff, Cliff. Why don't you

let someone who's
been there, tell it?

Wood, she likes to
do her cushion pushin'

on four wheels.

Miss Howe?

Really?

You know, uh, back
where I come from,

we used to say something
about girls like that.

What?

"Let's date 'em."

Oh, looky here. You
know, something tells me

I'm going to be completely
obnoxious about this.

What's so funny?

Oh, we were just talking

about nicknames, you know.

Different funny nicknames
that people have.

Did you ever have a nickname?

As a matter of fact, no.

Really.

Nothing, huh?

Not a Spark or Lefty or...

Bubba or something?

Sorry.

Guys, we ought to give

Rebecca, here, a nickname, uh...

You know, something
that, uh, kinda

fits her personality.

All right.

Kinda dignified.

Kinda businesslike.

Kinda reserved.

Let me think. Oh, yeah.

Anybody?

Backseat Becky!

Gee, that, uh,
that works for me.

I kind of like "Bubba."

Oh, God.

Then you probably know
the whole sordid story.

Well, actually, no.

Well, that's because
there isn't one.

Hey, hey, come on, come
on. Don't worry about that.

Listen, the truth is

I'm looking to buy a new car,

and I, uh, I need
an expert opinion.

Uh...

now what-what...
what model do you think

has the best rear shocks?

Have you driven a Ford lately?

I guess she gives new meaning
to the term "four on the floor."

All right, all right.

If you insist on an explanation,

I will give it to you.

You know how
sometimes as a joke,

you call someone
the exact opposite

of what they really are?

Well, I was really
shy in college,

so my friends thought
it would be a huge gas

to call me "Backseat Becky."

Well, it's simple,
it's, it's logical,

and we don't believe
it for a second.

Wait a minute. I-I believe her.

Us virgins have
to stick together.

I told you the truth.

If you don't want
to believe it, fine,

just believe whatever you want.

All right, here's
the real truth.

I was very aggressive in
college, a real go-getter.

I never took a
backseat to anyone.

No. No, no.

No, Mr. Cronin,
I'm not listening.

The case is closed.

I'm not taking any offers,

and that's final.

I'm sorry if I've upset
you, Mrs. Clavin.

Clifford, would you tell
this gentleman, please,

we're not selling our house?

I was just

trying to make an
offer on your house,

and your mother won't listen.

Well, that's because
she has got more sense

in her bony little frame

than you have in
your little finger.

Reverse that.

You are not going to run
the Clavins off our land.

I don't care what you offer us,

you just can't put
a price on love,

family and our memories.

Take it or leave it...

$250,000.

$200 and...

Oh, my God, we're rich.

But Ma, Ma, you can't do this.

A Clavin cannot be bought off.

I'm only a Clavin
by marriage, Clifford.

Oh...

Oh, guys, you gotta help me.

She's going to go
through with this.

Well, why don't you offer
to buy the place back?

Sammy, I don't have enough
money for a down payment.

Wait a minute.

Can either of you
guys lend me $50,000?

I'm sorry, Cliff, you
never paid me back

that million from last week.

Well, it's been a pleasure

doing business
with you, Mrs. Clavin.

Thank you.

Uh... uh...

There!

There!

Now what are you going to do?

Well, first I'm going

to take this contract
down to the office,

and then I'm going

to call my wife and ask
her what I'm supposed

to pick up at the grocery store.

Ah, Ma,

but after all we've
been through together.

Just last night you were saying

how much the house meant to you.

Last night I was poor.

Tonight I'm not.

I never thought I'd
have the chance,

but now I can go to Florida.

Florida? Oh, for
crying out loud.

Who'd ever want to
live in that stinkhole?

Clifford, I'm doing this

as much for you
as I am for myself.

You're 39 years old.

It's time to cut the cord.

Ma, I am not leaving that house!

Clifford...

I am not leaving that house!

Well, I'm afraid
you're going to have to.

Oh! Oh, yeah, fine.

Go off by yourself.

See how you like it.

After a week of
cooking your own meals,

doing your own dishes,
washing your own hair,

you'll be back.

Oh, well, well, well,

if it isn't the ultimate
driving machine.

Okay, okay, I give up.

Look, I'll tell you
the real story,

but it's kind of personal

so can we do this in private?

Sure, you bet. You bet.

Say, if you're too
embarrassed to say something,

feel free to act it out.

I was living in a women's
dorm on campus...

Mm-hmm.

And one night a fire broke out.

Ah.

Well, I didn't have time
to change my clothes,

so I had to run out
to the parking lot

wearing only a teddy;

black, but see-through.

All of a sudden, I was caught

in this fire
engine's headlights.

I didn't know what to do.

I looked all around,
and suddenly,

I spotted this open convertible.

I climbed in, and I slunk down

to the backseat.

Suddenly, this hulking fireman

was standing over me.

He was magnificent.

I looked in his eyes.

I knew what he wanted,

and I wanted it, too.

I peeled off his
black rubber raincoat.

He ripped off my teddy.

I can still feel the
heat on my flesh.

But it wasn't the fire...

It was us.

When it was over,

I opened my eyes,

and I noticed we weren't alone.

Others had watched
and not said a word.

And that's why I'm known
as "Backseat Becky."

Satisfied?

Thanks for the story, Carla.

Here's your ten bucks.

Yeah, the $20 one
would have killed him.

So wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Why do they call
you "Backseat Becky."

That will cost you a hundred.

Hey, you know,
you're kind of a pig.

Maybe we can be friends.

Excuse me.

I've got to find Norm Peterson.

Does Mr. Peterson
know what this is about?

Never mind. There he is.

Norman. Hi.

You got to help me.

I'm desperate. What?

Cliff's locked
himself in the house.

No, I've tried everything.

He won't budge.

Ours is the last
house on the block

scheduled for demolition,
and that's today.

I'm at my wit's end.

You got to help me.

I'll talk to him.

I'll see what I can do.

Oh, thank you, Norm.

I hope he doesn't
try anything crazy.

The last thing on
Earth I want to see

is my son's face
on the 11:00 news.

There's a whole city out
there that agrees with ya.

The world's biggest ass!

Clifford,

now take off those
silly handcuffs.

I can't.

I flushed the key.

Norman,

go outside and see if you
can find some tin snips.

Ask for Biff.

He loaned us the hard hats.

Clifford, sometimes I
really worry about you.

Look what they did to Elmer.

I'm sorry, dear, but
what can we do?

Come on, Ma, you're
the one who taught me

that if you believe
in something,

if you really want it,

then you're just going
to have to fight for it.

The house is sold.

They're going to tear it down.

Well, then I am
going down with it.

Clifford,

does this house really
mean that much to you?

Yeah, Ma.

Yeah, it really does.

Then it means that
much to me, too.

I don't know what we'll do.

We'll find a lawyer.

We're going to
fight this together.

We'll save our home.

Oh, Ma, together? Really?

Really, son.

Oh!

What are you going
to with that thing?

Cut your handcuffs off.

Yeah? Well, that's
a little bit dangerous!

What? No, no. I'm
wearing a hard hat. It's okay.

A hard hat? Get that
thing away from me!

Cut the post!

Isn't that a little drastic?

No, Ma, I think we're going
to remodel in here anyway.

There.

I think we're going
to beat this thing.

So do I.

Now we're going
to find a lawyer.

Okay.

But first, I want
to treat you boys

to a Popsicle!

Oh, Ma.

What was that?

Ah, probably just a
squirrel on the roof.

Big one.

Uh-oh! Ma!

Imagine...

we got a quarter of a
million for this dump.