Frasier (1993–2004): Season 6, Episode 8 - The Seal Who Came to Dinner - full transcript

What a glorious day.

Can't help but put a bounce
in one's step, can it?

If you're gonna be cheerful,
sit somewhere else.

- Damn it, I broke a nail.
- Here. Here.

- Oh, hello, Niles.
- If my life gets any worse,

I'm phoning hell to ask
about their exchange program.

Well, lucky me.
I stumbled in at happy hour. Here.

- So, Niles, Maris at it again?
- Oh, worse.

And it's so depressing
I can barely talk about it.

My Gourmet Club
is holding elections

to see who will win
this year's Golden Apron...



Wait, I can see
I'm gonna need a hanky for this.

Latte, please. To go.

Normally, the finalists compete
by giving lectures.

I'd written mine.

A waggish look at food fads
of yesteryear entitled:

"Fondue: What Were We Thinking?"

Suddenly last night, disaster.

Someone proposed
that instead of lecture,

this year's finalists should compete by
hosting dinner parties in their homes.

So why don't you invite them all over
and cook them a meal?

At the Shangri-La?

I can't tell the cream
of Seattle's gourmet set

that I've moved out of the Montana
and into that gulag with a game room.

- I'll just have to drop out of the race.
- Let's not be hasty.



Let's give this some thought.

- Every problem has a solution.
- Do you call that a problem?

A problem is when your kid

keeps you up three nights
in a row with colic,

and you're so burnt out
that you rear-end a Lexus

with four passengers,
each and every one a lawyer.

So you'll probably be sued
and spend the rest of your working life,

if you ever even get a job,

lining the pockets
of four blood-sucking,

whiplash-faking fat cats.

That's what a problem is.

- Can you have it at a restaurant?
- It's against the rules.

- Thanks for the sympathy.
- Well, I...

- Sympathy for what?
- Oh, I don't know. She broke a nail.

Anyway, Niles, try as I might,
I can't think of a single thing. I'm sorry.

Well, don't blame yourself.

You can blame Claudia Kynock.

The whole dinner scheme
was her greedy notion.

- Claudia Kynock? Kevin's widow?
- Can you believe it?

She owns six newspapers
and nine radio stations.

She'll still cadge a free meal
faster than that bulbous cartoon fellow

who mooches hamburgers
from Popeye.

- I know I must sound...
- Wimpy.

And whiny too, but I just...

I wanted this.
And after the year I've been through,

I needed something
to restore my pride,

my dignity, my manhood.

That Golden Apron could do it.

And you are going to have it.

You can have the dinner party
at my house.

- You mean it?
- Yes.

I'll rent an extra-large table,
and share in the hosting chores.

You are a saint.

I did note you only offered
after you found out our club includes

a rich owner
who could give you a job.

Well, Niles, I must say I'm hurt.

I offer out of the goodness
of my heart,

you make me sound
like an opportunist.

I'm sorry.
How can I make it up to you?

Well, I don't know.
Seat me next to someone interesting.

- Oh, Claudia, perhaps.
- Yes, why not?

Put her on my left. It's my best side.

He actually marked the bottle
so he'd know if you took some?

Yeah. Then he marched into my room
and confronted me with the evidence.

I said, "All right, if you want to be
such a miser, then fine.

I'll buy me own bath salts."

Oh, hi, Pam.
I didn't know you were here.

I told you this morning
she was coming by.

Must have slipped my mind.
Well, don't you look nice tonight?

You too, Martin. I love your sweater.

Yeah, pretty cheerful, huh?

You know, not everyone
can wear these colours.

It helps if you're a matador.

Come on, we don't want to be late
for the movie.

- Oh, can I freshen up first?
- Oh, yeah, yeah, right through there.

You dirty old man.

Flirting with a girl her age.

Well, she was flirting right back.
I saw her give me the once-over.

Yeah, she looked once
and it was over.

You never acted this silly
with any of me other girlfriends.

- What's so special about Pam?
- Oh, nothing.

She's just young and friendly,

and she reminds me of the girls
I used to date back during the war.

What, you mean Korea?

Mr. Crane, it's not dating
when you're an occupying force.

Well, just ask her if she's interested.

Have you lost your mind?

Hey, the gals in Pyeongchang
used to think I was pretty damn cute.

Yeah, well, this is a bit different.
You're not 21.

And her village
hasn't just burned down.

You're not gonna get her
with a kind smile and a Hershey bar.

Oh, just ask her, okay?

This explains that so-called mix-up
with those mail-order videos.

Mistake, my fanny.
You ordered The Joy Luck Club.

- Oh, hi, Dad, Daphne.
- Hey, you guys.

- Pam, nice to see you.
- Hi. Hello, Niles.

- All right, we're off. Good night.
- Good night.

Pam, an-nyong-hi kye-se-yo.

Just keep moving.

- What's with Dad?
- It's a Korea thing. Don't ask.

Oh, my gosh.

He said yes. I've got him.

That was a message
from Marcel DuBoeuf.

He's agreed to cater
my dinner for the club.

- Oh, Niles, that is a coup.
- Who?

Marcel DuBoeuf, Dad.

He's the famous sculptor turned chef.
Each plate is a work of art.

He's doing his all-truffle menu.

For the appetizer
he sculpts tiny mushroom trees,

then he carves radishes

to look like truffle pigs
snuffling around the roots.

Maybe I should do that for Eddie.
I could mould his Alpo into a cow.

- That reminds me...
- I got him Sonics tickets.

Bless you.

And did I mention they are predicting
meteor showers for that evening?

So not only will I have a great meal

- in a perfect setting...
- Niles.

- But I'll have nature itself
putting on a show for us.

Oh, we'll have an excellent view
from right...

- Dear God, what's that?
- It's a small crack.

A little bird flew into it the other day.
I'm replacing the pane next week.

Next week? That's too late.

It's a piece of tape.
No one will notice.

Well, you have no idea
how cutthroat my rivals are.

They will leap
on the tiniest imperfection.

Last night, Sebastian Melmoth
threw a lavish Japanese banquet.

A certain rival spent the entire evening
carping about how the obis

on the geishas' kimonos
were improperly tied.

- A certain rival?
- All right, me.

He had geishas?

That's enough, Dad.

Well, I'll just have to have the party
somewhere else.

But, Niles, you promised
you'd have it here.

- You promised me Claudia Kynock.
- Nobody's gonna notice.

Besides, who else is gonna loan you
their place?

It's not like you can ask Maris.

I don't have to ask her.
She's out of the country.

She's in Antwerp
having her elbows done.

She has that stunning beach house.

- I can get past the alarm.
- Isn't that breaking and entering?

Oh, pish.
It can't be a crime if it's catered.

- I hope you have a lovely time.
- Don't sulk. You can still come.

I've gotta start planning.

Wait until you see this place.
It's right on the beach.

It's ideal
for viewing the meteor shower.

Maybe Chef Marcel
can make your truffles

look like little meteors
zooming around the plate.

We make fun of him, but every now
and then he has a fantastic idea.

I hope you're right
about the alarm code.

- People do change them.
- Maris will never change this one.

It's her ideal weight.

What she weighed
at her debutante ball.

Let's see, this many pounds
and that many ounces.

Good Lord,
no one could weigh that and live.

Maris!

- Oh, no, not her.
- Neighbour?

Yes. Gretchen Koontz.

The old girl has been smitten
with Maris

ever since she taught falconry
at Maris' finishing school.

Now, here, put these in water.
I'll get rid of her.

Maris, liebchen, is that you?

- Oh, Dr. Crane.
- Hello, Gretchen.

I'm surprised to see you here.

When last I spoke to Maris,

she said your marriage had come
to a timely end.

Yes, well, it's all patched up now.
We couldn't be happier.

In fact, that's Maris
in the kitchen now.

We're terribly busy.
I'll be right with you, muffin.

- But I'll tell her you looked in.
- Do.

Ask her to stop by.

My wolfhound had puppies.

- Let's get some lights on.
- Yes.

- Good Lord, what the hell is that?
- What?

Oh, Maris had it made
after she lost power in a storm.

Battery operated.
It works on a clapper.

So you can find it in the dark.

Only problem was, try as she might,

the poor thing could never clap
hard enough to activate it.

Oh, Niles, this view is breathtaking.

With a setting like this
and Chef Marcel in the kitchen,

I think that Golden Apron
is as good as yours.

What is that revolting smell?

It smells like it's coming
from the beach.

It's like garbage or rotting fish or...

- Or a dead seal.
- No, it's more like a rendering plant.

No, Niles. There's an extremely
large dead seal right by this dinghy.

Oh, dear God!

You know, on the bright side,

there's not a single crack
in these windows.

Yes, animal control?

A large seal washed up
on my property.

I need you to come
and remove it right away.

Its condition? It's deceased.

And might I add, pretty damn pungent,
so if you'll just get over...

What? What?
Well, you're not serious.

He says they only handle live seals.

What kind of policy is that?

Well, if it were alive,
I wouldn't need you.

I could just scare it away myself.

I'd pay to see that.

Oh, wait. I was mistaken.
It's not dead after all. It's sitting up.

It looks very disoriented.
Come quickly.

Give me that. Give it.

Hello, this is Frasier Crane.

You may remember me
from my radio show.

Oh, yes, that should send
the seal mobile racing over here.

And just how do you suggest
that we dispose of a dead seal?

I see.

I see. Charming.

Well, we have two options.

We can either bury it
or haul it out to sea,

in which case he suggests
that we stab some holes into it.

Stab holes in it?

To make it less buoyant.

It would certainly make me
less buoyant.

Well, we'll have to bury it.

- Help me find a shovel.
- Right.

Oh, no, that's Chef Marcel.
If he finds out what's out there,

- he will walk.
- Over a dead seal?

He won't let anything upstage
his food.

He stormed out
of Kate York's christening party

over an ill-timed diaper change.

- Look, you let him in.
- Right.

- I'll find a shovel.
- Okay.

Chef Marcel, this is indeed an honour.
I'm Frasier, Niles' brother.

Where is my kitchen?

It's right through there.

- What is that smell?
- What smell?

Is there a baby here?

No. I mean, yes.

Well, there was a baby,
but it's gone now.

- And we can air the place out.
- Do.

All right, let's do this.

Quick, quick, quick, quick, quick.

What's the matter, Niles, you couldn't
find any demitasse spoons?

I'm sorry. This is all we have.

It'll take us until doomsday
with these things.

Let's stick it into the dinghy
and haul it out to sea. Come on.

I'm not touching that
with my bare hands.

All right, just go get a sheet
or something to wrap it in.

Poor noble creature.

At least in death, you've achieved
a kind of tragic dignity.

We can wrap it in this.

- Quick, quick, quick, quick.
- A peach peignoir?

Yes, and I found perfume.

We're giving it a burial, Niles,
not a day of beauty.

It's to cover the smell.
And the peignoir was all I could find.

The beds are all stripped.

- The linen cupboard's locked.
- All right, just get on with it.

- Do you think that helped?
- Oh, yes, Niles.

It smells so lovely now
it's almost a shame to bury it.

- Will you give me a hand with this?
- Yes, all right.

There. Okay, now let's turn it over.
Come on.

Oh, God.

Have you ever seen anything
so heartbreaking?

That sullied nightgown,
that cold vacant stare,

those limp little whiskers.

Stick a corncob pipe in its mouth,
it could be Nana on Dad's side.

Come on, let's go. Move.

Nice oarsmanship,
Mr. Oxford-Rowing-Champ.

It's not very easy
to keep your balance

when your crewmate jumps
on your back

and shrieks like a tea kettle.

Oh, I'm sorry.

The thing's tongue lolled out
and licked my ankle.

I just hope the wind changes direction
before the party.

- Yes.
- They'll be here in 15 minutes.

The stench is so strong

I could almost swear
the damn thing was still...

- It's back!
- Oh, my God.

Tide must have washed it back in.

We should've taken their advice
and stabbed holes in it.

No, I refuse to even contemplate
something so disgusting.

We'll just row it back out,

this time we'll weigh it down
with something.

Oh, Niles, what about that hideous
anchor lamp?

Perfect. We'll tie it with
the peignoir sash. It'll sink like a brick.

Would you mind terribly
doing that alone?

- Alone?
- Yes, I have to get ready.

Frasier, please, I beg you.

All right, Niles.

But the entire time I'm gone, sing
my praises to Claudia Kynock.

- Done.
- Excuse me, where do you keep...?

Chef Marcel,
it's so nice to meet you at last.

You have been swimming?

Just a dip.

In your clothes?

Well, it is November.

You know, it was so refreshing,
I think I'll go back for another.

- Don't forget your lamp.
- Oh, yes, thank you.

It's getting dark in that water.

Now, Sebastian, you must try
one of these truffled scallops.

I'm allergic to bivalves.
A good host would know that.

Don't mind Sebastian. He's just afraid
you'll outshine his geisha party.

Now, now, no rivalries.
We're all friends tonight.

I'm sorry about the scallops.

In the future, I'll try to cater more
to your shellfish demands.

I got that.

Thank God you're back.
I can open the deck?

- People are suspicious.
- I hauled it as far as I could.

I hope that lamp was heavy enough.

- Is Claudia here?
- She's dying to talk to you.

- Good. Smell my fingers.
- Lovely, tuberose?

- Jasmine.
- Really?

Everyone, as you may know,

I have arranged a small meteor shower
for our entertainment this evening.

So feel free to claim your spots now
on the observation deck.

Please, go right ahead.
Sebastian, enjoy it.

Claudia, this is my brother,
Dr. Frasier Crane.

- Well, just the man I wanted to meet.
- Really?

Well, now I should warn you,
Claudia's in radio

so you're in
for more of that arm-twisting

you've been getting from
the other station owners.

Oh, my brother, the publicist.

Before long, he'll be telling you
about my two SeaBees

and my
Broadcaster of the Year Award.

Well, now we don't have to talk
all business.

But I do wanna mention
that we may be replacing

one of our nationally
syndicated hosts,

the Happy Traveller.

Oh, yes, the Happy Traveller.
How's that coming?

Not well. Unless they get more realistic
with those ransom demands,

he's never coming out of that jungle.

There certainly are a lot of gnats
buzzing about out here.

- Yes, there are.
- Allow me.

Oh, dear God.

- It's only a gnat, Niles.
- Yes, well, gnats carry disease.

- Oh, you missed it.
- There's another.

There were no bugs at my party.

What's that on the beach?

I don't know, but it's wearing a boa.

No, no, no, that's preposterous.

It's just a rock
with some seaweed on it.

Niles, there seems to be something
with feathers flashing at us.

Yes, yes, that's my neighbour.
Don't clap, it just encourages her.

Does anyone else smell something?

I know what I smell.

Truffles.

- Everyone, time for dinner.
- Yes, yes, please, step lively.

Truffles.

All right, all right, get out there
and stab that thing.

No. I'm sick to death
of chaperoning that carcass.

Well, I can't do it. I'm the host.

Because of that woman in there and
a scrappy band of third-world rebels,

I am this close to getting
a national radio show of my own.

- You have to do it.
- All right.

Get me a knife, close those curtains.
Don't let anyone out on this deck

- until I come back.
- Fine.

Where's the damn thing gone to?

Got it. Thanks.

I've listened to your show,

and what impressed me most
is your ability to focus.

Yes, I'm very proud of that.

I give each of my callers
my complete undivided...

Excuse me.
Would you please just stay inside?

- We're about to start dinner.
- Well, you said that ten minutes ago.

Yes, so it's even truer now, isn't it?
Just sit down.

I'm sorry. Back to my show.

I must say, I was wondering myself
when we'd be eating. It's getting late.

Well, Niles is in the kitchen right now
trying to prod Chef Marcel along.

You know how it is
with these perfectionists.

- I am waiting to serve. Where's Niles?
- You mean he's not with you?

Well, I'm sure
he's around here somewhere.

You know, perhaps he's upstairs
making a phone call.

If you just keep everything warm,
he'll be down in a minute.

He better be. I reheat for no one.

I'm terribly sorry
about all these interruptions.

Now, can we just get back
to that job?

Well, you'd be in 93 markets...

Excuse me. Can I help you?

- I just saw a meteor.
- Oh, have they started?

Oh, splendid.
Everyone, please stand back.

And witness the spectacular view
through this transom.

Can't we see them better
from outside?

No, it's much safer in here.

You never know
where they might land.

Perhaps that's Niles.

Hello, is Niles Crane here?

We're investigating
a possible homicide.

What?

Your neighbour saw Dr. Crane
and another man

row out to sea with a third party
dressed in a nightie.

The men returned alone.

We suspect they dumped the body
overboard.

All right,
there's nothing to be alarmed about.

Please, gentlemen, come in.
I can clear this whole thing up.

I was the other man in the row boat.

- You dumped a body overboard?
- Thank God you're here.

- I just saw a murder.
- What?

Dr. Crane was on the beach
with his wife, Maris.

I recognized her peignoir.

I could even smell her perfume.

- He was stabbing her again and again.
- No, no, no.

Clearly, this woman is delusional.

Listen, search the entire house.

I defy you to find
one scrap of evidence

that there's been foul play here.

My butcher knife has disappeared
from the kitchen.

Go check the beach.

Please, people, I assure you,
there is nothing sinister going on here.

Hello, all.

Meteor shower's started.
Oh, excuse me.

Niles, there's been
a little misunderstanding.

Perhaps it's time you explained
about the dead seal we found.

A dead seal?
At my Golden Apron dinner?

That's enough bubbly for you.

But, Niles, they think
you murdered Maris.

I saw him stabbing her.

Oh, I see what happened.

Oh, this is funny.

Oh, you're all going to laugh
when you hear this.

I was simply stabbing a seal.

You killed a seal?

No, no, I didn't kill it.
It was already dead when we found it.

- You found a dead seal?
- Yes.

And it was wearing a peignoir?

That is ludicrous.
We put the peignoir on it.

- And the perfume too?
- Yes, of course.

So you found a dead seal,

dressed it in a peignoir,
doused it in perfume, then stabbed it.

I told you you'd laugh.

I found this washed up
on the beach.

Oh, well, there, if that doesn't prove
my innocence, I don't know what does.

It's covered in her blood.

Dinner is served.

Sorry, folks, no one can leave.
This is a crime scene.

Well, it certainly would be a crime
if we missed that dinner.

Everyone, sit down.

There's place cards
all around the table.

- Okay, gentlemen, let's go.
- Well, he said no one could leave.

Claudia, perhaps
we can discuss that job tomorrow.

I've got business cards
in my breast pocket

if you'd like to fish one out.

No? Fine. I'll just call you then.

Officer, you can't arrest me.
My wife is alive.

She's in Antwerp
having her elbows done.

Give it up, Niles.
Even I didn't believe that one.