Frasier (1993–2004): Season 6, Episode 18 - Taps at the Montana - full transcript

Hey, boys, how was dinner?

Let's say when I picked my lobster
out of the tank,

I had no idea he was in
for a better evening than I was.

- What happened?
- Well, it started out well enough.

First, they seated us
at a superb table,

certainly better
than the one next to us,

at which, unfortunately, they sat

- Daphne and Donny.
- Oh, jeez.

Being very affectionate,
of course, whispering,

laughing, holding hands.

This in a place
where people were trying to eat.



Well, in an attempt
to make things better,

I suggested that Niles
and I switch seats

so that he could face the other table.

Unfortunately, moments later,

they seated Maris there
with her new boyfriend.

Also being affectionate.

Grooming each other
like spider monkeys.

She was deliberately taunting me,

playing the same coquettish games
we used to play in restaurants:

Batting her eyes, then coyly hiding
behind her breadstick.

And then to top it all off,

the Pouilly Fuiss? we ordered
was a grave disappointment.

I urged he send it back, but he wouldn't
create a scene in front of Daphne.

Not that she would've even noticed,



the way Donny was feeding her
forkfuls of risotto

as if she'd lost her arms
instead of her mind.

What is she doing with him?

Well, some days,
it doesn't pay to get out of bed.

The highlight of my day
is getting out of bed

so I can slam it
back up into the wall.

How long are you gonna stay there?

You can afford
the Montana now, can't you?

Yes, but thanks to Frasier,
there's a tenant living there.

May I remind you that you begged me
to find you a sublet.

Someone austere
and dignified enough

not to offend
your starchy neighbours.

Frasier, I'm not trying to blame you.

It's just my whole world
is crashing down around me.

- I wanna go home.
- Well, I'm sorry, Niles.

He's got two months left
on his sublet.

Can't you give him a call
and lean on him a bit?

Dad, the man has a lease. I can't
very well call and ask him to move out.

- Hi, Daph.
- Evening, all.

- How's dinner?
- It was wonderful.

You should've come over
and joined us.

Well, you looked like
you had enough to contend with,

what with your table's fork shortage.

Donny takes such good care of me.

After you left,
I made the tiniest comment

about not liking the Pouilly Fuiss?,
and he sent it back.

That snooty wine steward
argued with him,

but Donny made a scene
with the owner,

and the next thing you knew,
our entire meal was on the house.

I've never been prouder of him.

Frasier, I wanna go home.

I'll call Dr. MacLowery.

- Why, Dr. Crane, you're back.
- Yes, Mrs. Latimer.

Fortunately, my sublet
was able to move out early.

I trust your tour was a success?

- A triumph.
- Good. Take care.

Tour?

I could hardly let these people know
where I was living.

I told them
I was on a lecture tour of Africa

so they wouldn't try to contact me.

Niles, maybe he isn't here.
Maybe we should just let ourselves in.

Right. All right.

I'm home.

I can already feel the last four months
dropping away.

Yes. Soon,
Africa will be just a memory.

I just wanna close my eyes
and savour the serenity.

What the hell is that?

It's Dr. MacLowery.

Doctor... Dr. MacLowery,
what are you doing?

That was a ball change
leading to a riff drop.

You gotta lick it and stick it.

- When did you take up tap dancing?
- Years ago.

I figured if I didn't dance,
I'd go crazy.

I'm not sure he caught it in time.

Baseboard. Baseboard.

Dr. MacLowery, please,
the neighbours.

You tell me about it.
Why, those bunch of sourpusses.

Why, all they do is complain.

Sunshine, rain.

Well, look who it is.

It's the Tenants' Board
come to welcome me home.

Carol and Alfred Larkin,
you remember my brother, Frasier.

Oh, and Mr. Probst.

See here, Crane.

We abhor noise in this building.

I couldn't agree more.

And what do you call that?

I believe that was lick it and stick it.

This has been going on for months.

We would have contacted you
if we'd known how to.

I'm sorry, but Dr. MacLowery's
moving...

Dr. Crane, I'm afraid
the board is leaning

towards rescinding your lease.

What? Why?

Because you're a menace, Crane.

You always have been.

You have something of a reputation
in this building.

What with all the raucous parties
you've hosted.

I'm not a well man.

I have a serious heart problem
and I demand quiet.

- We all do.
- Mr. Probst, I assure you...

No, we're having a board meeting
tomorrow evening

in which we intend to discuss
your situation.

And if I were you,
I wouldn't plan on unpacking.

So nice seeing you again.

It was good of you to go to all this
trouble for your brother.

Yes. Well, in a way,
I felt responsible.

Oh, really?
I don't know why.

Just because you sublet my apartment
to Bojangles the Loon.

I'll get it.

Niles, will you relax, please?

- Give me that.
- Oh, relax. How can I?

In an hour, these people
could vote me out of my home.

They won't if you show them
a good time at this reception.

A couple of drinks, some food,
some witty conversation,

they'll realise what an asset you are.

- Hi, guys.
- Hey, Roz.

Great party, Niles.

I was surprised to get
your last-minute invitation.

You're not trying to set me up
with anybody, are you?

- Don't be ridiculous.
- Good.

You're here
because the caterer cancelled.

Now, listen.

We need you to open the wine,
cut up some limes

and hang up this coat.

You actually think I am
so hard up for a night out

that I would spend the evening
pushing drinks in God's waiting room?

- Keep your voice down.
- Roz, please.

- You're paying for the babysitter.
- All right, done.

- What am I, the dishwasher?
- No, Dad.

You were invited because, well,
it just wouldn't be a party without you.

Although there may be a few women
here that are unattached,

who might just take a shine
to an old debonair dog like yourself.

I'm just a piece of meat
to you guys, aren't I?

There goes that damn
loose earring again.

Thank goodness it didn't fall
into the punch bowl.

Don't want someone
choking on it, do we?

Yes, although nothing says party
like a tracheotomy.

You must tell us all
about your African tour, Dr. Crane.

Yes. Do the local people
actually enjoy your lectures?

Well, yes, quite a bit.
Except, of course, for the pygmies.

Most of it
went right over their heads.

I'll get it.

The rest of the board.

Pleased to see you. Come in.

- Hello, good to see you.
- Yes.

Dr. Crane?

While you were on the subcontinent,

did you happen to spot
any rare African waterfowl?

Just one, but it was already spotted.

I'll get it.

Shoo, shoo, shoo!
For God's sake, Niles,

will you do something
with this damn bird?

Quiet, quiet, quiet. Here.
There you go. Over here.

Niles sucks.

The boys at the Shangri-La
loved teaching her things like that.

- It's so tiring.
- Bite me, Niles.

Right back at you.

Hurry with the hors d'oeuvres.
The guests are hostile toward me.

I'm not gonna win any points
by starving them.

- Stuff it, Niles.
- Oh, don't tempt me.

- Dr. Crane?
- Yes.

Who is that distinguished-Iooking man
over there?

I've been trying to catch his eye,

but he's far too engrossed
in that gardening book.

Well, that is actually
my father, Martin. Dad?

- Don't mind him. He's painfully shy.
- I know just how he feels.

I'm a bit of a shrinking violet myself.
Martin.

Do you see
that obnoxious old lecher?

Well, you're gonna have
to be a lot more specific.

The one in the blue jacket.
I'm about this close to slapping him.

Wait, wait, that is Mr. Hawkins.

He's the vice president
of the Tenants' Board.

Well, I don't care who he is.
He just pinched me.

Roz, please,
the man is 80 and arthritic.

How hard can he pinch?

People are not talking, not mixing.

- People are pinching.
- Stop it. Stop it.

The party is just starting.
Everything's gonna be just fine.

Don't you touch me.

Daphne, how are those other...?

Baby?

Oh, dear God.

This bird's dead.

How did this happen?

She must have eaten
some of the hors d'oeuvres.

You mean the ones
I just served to Niles' guests?

You are very welcome.

Frasier, I am so sorry.
I completely overreacted.

People perked up once
they saw those appetisers of yours.

You know,
I think the Niles Crane party curse

has finally been laid to rest.

What?

Will somebody please tell me
what happened?

I'm gonna let Daphne tell you.

What is it?

I don't mean to alarm you,

but there's something wrong
with the hors d'oeuvre.

- What? How do you know?
- A little bird told me.

Sorry, sorry. I forgot the garnish.

I'm dreadfully embarrassed about this.
Give me that. Thank you very much.

This is the chef's prerogative.
You understand, of course.

Roz, for God's sake.

Did you see how it happened?
Anything?

Well, I did hear her last words,

but I don't think
they'd be of much comfort to you.

Oh, God, Niles, I'm so sorry.

The mayonnaise must have gone bad.
Or the crab or the p?t?.

Which one did she eat?

I don't know.
Daphne, smell her beak.

All right, all right, Niles,
are you all right?

Yeah, I just need a moment.

- Dr. Crane?
- That's long enough.

Excuse me, I'm afraid
I spilled punch on my dress.

- I need a towel.
- No. No.

You're much better off using that...

Yeah, this bread.

- It's more absorbent.
- Really?

Yes, that's why they call it
nature's sponge.

All right.

It's working.

- All right, what do we do now?
- Daphne, you get rid of Baby.

I'll get rid of this tainted food.

But we still have
a roomful of hungry guests

with nothing to serve them.

Oh, God, would you look at that?

She swallowed my earring.
That's what killed her.

That means we don't have
to destroy the hors d'oeuvres.

Frasier, Frasier, stop.
Are there any left?

Yes, we're in luck.

This intrepid little crab puff
has survived.

Now, all I need is a very sharp knife
and 16 toothpicks.

Niles, I am really getting tired
of these people.

Some lady just handed me
a piece of wet bread.

- Oh, this party is doomed.
- No, no, Niles, listen. Don't panic.

We've got everything we need
to make hors d'oeuvres.

All we need is time.
You get out there and stall. All right.

Mrs. Latimer,
may I get you some punch?

Well, your father went to get me some,
but that was quite a while ago.

Please, allow me. Here.

By the way, where is that
adorable bird of yours?

She's resting.

Travel really takes it out of her.

You didn't take her to Africa, surely.

Well, she has family there.

Mr. Probst, having a good time?

Look here, Crane,
if you're not gonna feed us,

we might as well
take the vote right now.

- No, please.
- I mean, you bring the hors d'oeuvres,

you take the hors d'oeuvres away.
What kind of a game is this?

Well, I'm not, I'm not...

Oh, what a good idea.

Why don't we all play a game?
Anyone have any suggestions?

How about Murder?

We played it at Irene Warriner's party.
It was a hoot.

- Oh, how do we play?
- Well, here.

Someone tear off
a few slips of paper

and on one of them,
write the word "murderer."

Then we'll pass them out

and then everyone hide
and we'll turn out the lights.

The murderer kills someone,
they lay down on the floor,

and then we turn on the lights and
the detective tries to solve the crime.

I'll tell you what. I'll volunteer
to play the detective for the first round.

Let the mayhem begin.

Oh, Martin, there you are.
Come, hide with me.

I know a little nook
where no one will find us.

Oh, this game's a lot scarier
than I thought.

All right, turn out the lights.
Everyone, hide.

- I can't see.
- Can I help you, sir?

I don't have my glasses. Can you
tell me what it says on this thing?

- It says "murderer."
- Good. Then you're dead.

This party
just gets better and better.

- How soon?
- I'm going as fast as I can.

First batch should be ready
in five minutes.

All right, five minutes it is.

Ready or not, here I come.

My goodness,
the foul fiend has struck already.

Turn the lights on.

Good heavens, he's struck twice.
That's not really in the rules, is it?

- Frasier?
- Once dead, you can not speak.

Take your cue from Mr. Probst.
All right, everyone.

Did any of you see
anything suspicious?

Any odd behaviour?

Why don't you just guess who did it
so we can get this thing over with.

Not yet.

This is very intriguing.

I think I'm going to have
to think about it for...

...five minutes or so.

- Maybe this game was a bad idea.
- No, the fun's just starting.

I tell you what.
Let's turn out the lights again

and we'll let our craven villain
ply his dark trade once more.

Are you quite sure those two
didn't die of starvation?

That's very funny.
Will you just turn out the lights?

All right, everyone, hide.

- I have a question.
- No. No talking.

Just tell me,
can the murderer commit suicide?

Well, no, Roz. That wouldn't make
much sense, would it?

That's what I thought, but Mr. Probst
is the one who murdered me.

- Oh, was he?
- Yes.

Well, then, Mr. Probst, I don't think
someone is playing by the rules, is he?

You see, this way, no one else
can get murdered, can they?

Mr. Probst?

What is it? What are you doing?

- Nothing, Roz, nothing.
- Are you taking his pulse?

I'm trying to. I just can't find one.

Oh, my God. When he fell down,
I thought it was part of the game.

It didn't even look real.

It's time to wind the game up.

The appetisers are ready
and they are delicious.

I think this party
is finally back on track.

Niles, I'm afraid Mr. Probst
has passed on.

- What?
- Yes, you see,

I think that heart condition of his
finally caught up with him.

Dead? No, no, no, he's sleeping.

Old people love to nap.

Mr. Probst, time to wake up.
Mr. Probst...

Niles, Niles, he's gone.

Oh, my God, this is awful.
How could this happen?

Shouldn't we notify someone?

No, he was a widower.
He had no children.

He lived alone in this building
for 25 years. Oh, this is so awful.

Mr. Probst was right.
I am a menace.

- No, Niles, this is not your fault.
- But it happened at my party.

That's all they'll remember.
I may as well pack my bags.

There's no need for that.

We can still get him out of here
without anybody noticing.

How?

- You go find Dad.
- Why...?

Tell him to call his friend
at the police department.

One of his good friends, all right?
I'll handle the rest.

- All right.
- What's the rest?

I'm going to use the game
to distract everyone.

I will take everyone into the kitchen
for questioning,

thus drawing their attention
from the bodies.

- What do you mean bodies?
- Roz...

- No.
- You've got to get down.

- No way in hell.
- All right, all right, how's this?

I will pay your airfare
for that vacation of yours next month.

No way. It's just too creepy.

- First class?
- Business.

- Done.
- All right, get down.

Lie down.

Frasier, Frasier,
I found Dad hiding from Mrs. Latimer.

- He called his friend.
- Great.

I'll start getting everyone
in the kitchen.

Won't they wonder why
there hasn't been another murder?

- Good point.
- Couldn't we move this along?

- Roz, quiet.
- Here. The waggon's on its way.

When it gets here,
let me deal with it.

- Thank you. I really appreciate this.
- Dad, we need one more favour.

You are now the killer. Come on.

You've got to murder somebody,
preferably in the kitchen.

- Oh, come on.
- Come on.

You're not gonna make somebody lie
down on this dirty floor again, are you?

There you are, Martin.
Have you been hiding from me?

Hiding? No, you're just the person
I've been looking for.

All right, turn on the lights.
Everyone... Roz, you okay?

Yeah, it's a carnival down here.

Everyone.

There has been another murder
in the kitchen.

I am ready to solve the crime
if you will all join me

in the kitchen.

Why can't you solve it right here?

Well, I could.
But that wouldn't be proper.

You see,
the hors d'oeuvres are in there.

Come along, all right, everyone.

We've got food.

Don't touch the crime scene, please.
Thank you very much.

On your way.
Thank you very much.

Hurry, his fingers are getting stiff.

All right, then.

Before I determine
the identity of the killer,

there are a few questions
I'd like to ask each of you.

- I'll get it.
- No.

No one leaves
until I've solved the crime.

Except you, Dad.

All right, then.

I think I shall begin...

...by drawing a diagram
of where each of you was standing

when the first murder occurred.

We have established that Miss Finn

was talking with Mr. Larkin
in the upstairs hall

at 8:14.

And he muttered something.

Why do you keep looking out there?

I'll ask the questions
around here, Mrs. Larkin.

We already told you,
your father killed Mrs. Latimer.

- Mrs. Hawkins saw him.
- Mrs. Hawkins thought she saw him.

No, Martin did kill me.

And he's got a lot to learn
about playing gently.

Mrs. Latimer,

we have already broken
the no-eating-while-dead rule,

but we will stand fast
on the quiet one.

I'm bored, and I'm going home.

No, no, no, wait,
you can't blame Niles for this because

my father is the killer.

Yes, the case is closed.
Shall we all play another round?

God forbid. Where's Probst?

He just left. He wasn't feeling well.

- Yes, I hope he's all right, poor man.
- Who cares?

I never liked the old coot anyway.

You didn't?

I was planning to vote for you tonight
just to annoy him.

- Me too.
- Well, why don't we vote right now?

Consider it done. You're in, Crane.
Welcome back.

Carol, let's get out of here.

Doesn't he have anything stiffer
than punch to drink?

I don't like looking at dead bodies,
much less touching them.

He's got a bottle of vodka
in the freezer.

Oh, great.

Thank you so much
for this second chance,

and I can assure you, from now on,

this will be the quietest apartment
in the Montana.

Oh, my God!

Good night.