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09x13 - Honor Thy Mother

Posted: 12/08/21 16:09
by bunniefuu
Cheers is filmed before
a live studio audience.

(car horn toots)

(theme song begins)

♪ Sometimes you want to go ♪

♪ Where everybody
knows your name ♪

♪ And they're always
glad you came ♪

♪ You wanna be
where you can see ♪

♪ The troubles
are all the same ♪

♪ You wanna be where
everybody knows your name. ♪

All right, okay, here's one.

Hayley Mills, playing
herself and her twin sister

in The Parent Trap.

All right, all right.

Um, how about
Elizabeth Montgomery

as both Serena and
Samantha in Bewitched?

Ooh! Very nice! Yeah. Yeah.

All right. Cliffy?

Well, uh, Norm, I'd have to
say the, uh, queen of the genre,

Patty Duke, as both Patty
and, uh, the minuet-lovin' Cathy.

FRASIER: Oh!

What's the topic du jour?

Actresses who have
played their own look-alikes

through the use of
trick photography?

No. Fictional twins
we'd like to see

making out with each other.

WOODY: Hey, Sam,

the new Boston Merchants
coupon book is out,

and I got us in it.

Oh damn it, Woody!

I hate that thing!

Well, maybe you don't
understand how it works. Yeah, I do.

Guy comes in,
gives you a coupon.

You give him a
free drink, he leaves,

you never see him again.

Well, then you do understand.

Woody...

Well, what, Sam?

You think it was a bad idea?

You think I shouldn't
have done it?

You think I'm a
stupid idiot, right?

No, no, that's... Yes!

Well, I... I'm sorry, Sam.

I just thought it would attract

new customers to the bar.

Yeah, a-a bunch of
deadbeats and freeloaders.

NORM: Yeah.

You don't want
people like that in here.

Another beer, please, Wood.

Sam, that was John
Allen Hill on the phone.

He's on his way
down. SAM: No, no.

I don't want to talk
to him. I hate that guy.

Sam, be a good businessman.
He's our upstairs neighbor.

We have to live together.

Just try to be civil to him.

All right, all right, all right,
I'll be good. I'll be good.

You know, I get the
feeling sometimes

he deliberately says
things just 'cause

he knows it's gonna
get under my skin.

Sam!

See? God...

Sam, it appears
we have a problem.

Do you know what this is?

Yeah. Yeah, it
looks like a manicure.

Nice one, too.

Wait. Is that a...

Is that clear polish,
or are they just buffed?

They're just clean.

Sam, I'm concerned.

Are you aware that your bar
is featured in this coupon book?

Yeah, I am. Well, my concern

is how this will
affect Melville's.

I'm not anxious to
greet the type of person

you're obviously
hoping to attract.

What are you saying?

You saying that
you're better than me?

That your customers
are classier than mine?

Well, they're not.
NORM: Hey, Sammy?

Will you settle a
bet for us, please?

Which one of our breaths
smells most like tuna?

Loser has to go through
the spanking machine.

What do you want me to
do, walk over and check?

I can tell you from here.

Oh, yeah, right, right.

And none of your
customers have fish breath

when they come walking
out of your restaurant?

It's a seafood restaurant, Sam.

Ah, all right, so
you admit it, right?

(grunting)

Well, looks like
the big boy lost.

Hi, guys.

Hey, Carla, I got
a message for you.

Your brother called.

Something about
a family meeting.

Oh, yeah?

There!

Uh, here's your message.

That was my paycheck.

Carla, what's the problem?
Why are you so upset?

Oh, I hate family meetings.

They're nothing but a bunch
of complaining and infighting

and bickering and backstabbing.

And, of course,

sweet little Carla has
to play the peacemaker.

FRASIER: Well,

I, for one, think
family meetings

can be worthwhile encounters.

They encourage open
and honest communication

among the generations.

Did you have them in
your family there, Fras?

No, I lucked out.

My family didn't
want to be close.

If you're lying to me, I'm gonna
rip out your slimy, gray tongue.

Whoa.

Sounds kind of serious.

It's my mother.

Well, what's the
matter with her?

She had the dream.

What dream's that?

The death dream.

Whenever someone
in my family has it,

you can just start
divvying up the jewelry.

REBECCA: What exactly

is this... death dream?

FRASIER: Yes,

and, uh, why exactly
do you always do this...

when you say, "the death dream?"

You just did it.

Carry on.

Well, the dream
is always the same.

There's a casket on a
slab in an empty room.

You walk slowly toward it.

Suddenly, the lid flies open.

You see your own face?

No, you see these feet,

'cause you're looking
at the wrong end.

Then, you look upward,

and there's your own face,

pale and bluish with
pennies over your eyes.

And that's when you
bolt up in bed screaming.

FRASIER: Carla,

death is an earthly
scientific passage

predicted by either
massive physical injury

or progressive
bodily deterioration.

There is as little validity
in a supposed death dream

as there is in the...

clichéd image of death itself
as a grim, bloodless ghoul

whose bony finger reaches out

to tap you on the shoulder
when your number's up.

Frasier, it's time to go.

(screams)

Don't do that, woman!

For God's sakes,

put on some blush or...

SAM: Honey,

it's kind of slow.

Why-Why don't
you take the day off,

go see your mom, huh?

Might I remind you, Sam...

My mother and I
don't exactly get along.

You don't get
along with anybody.

Yeah, well, this is
different, and shut up!

The last time I saw my
mother, we had this terrible fight

about this stupid family thing,

and I swore I
would never set foot

in her lousy place again

unless someone dragged me
there kicking and screaming.

So, that's it, huh?

You're damned right.

(clicks tongue)

Drag me, Sammy.

Really?

Do it. Drag me.

No! No! Cut it out!

I don't want to go!

No! No! I never want to see
that shriveled old bag again!

No! Put me down!

I don't want to go!

Oh, Carla, Carla!

Oh, nobody would
believe you would come!

Oh, your sister is in there
with your mother now,

and you go next, yes?

Oh, she will be so
happy to see you.

Carla! (laughs)

Sam, you remember
Zia, the hugger.

Yeah.

Oh, Sam!

Oh!

MAN: You guys

want a beer?

This is kind of a
solemn occasion, Sal.

Malt liquor?

I'll pass.

So, Zia, how's Mom?

Carla, what kind
of question is that?

She had the dream.

So, she's really sick, huh?

No. She doesn't have to be sick.

She had the dream. Oh...

She'll be dead soon.

Have you had lunch?

Uh, actually, yeah, I did.

Oh, then this is dinner.

Oh, hey, thanks, Zia.

Eat up, Sam. Our
family believes in,

life is for the living.

(laughs)

Soon enough, we'll all be dead,

rotting in the ground,
with a mouth full of worms.

Great linguini.

Thank you, Zia.

Oh, Carla, your
sister's finished.

b*tch.

sl*t.

Oh, it's nice to
see them talking.

Mama.

Angeline?

No, Mama.

It's Carla.

Oh.

My purse is on the dresser.

Mama, I didn't come
here for your money.

I came because I feel bad

things got so ugly between
us the last time I was here.

So, you've come
to say you're sorry.

Well, I'm sorry we fought.

Then you're sorry.

I accept your apology.

Good. I accept
your apology, too.

I didn't say I was sorry.

Well, then, I'm
not sorry, either.

Too late. I already
accepted your apology.

Damn!

So, here...

now that we've made peace,

I want you to have the ring

that my mother gave to me,

and her mother

gave to her.

Oh, Mama. The ring.

What's this?

I hocked it.

Come.

Oh, your father's hair.

Sorry, Mom.

And now, Carla,

there is something
you must do for me.

Oh, Mama, I know what
you're gonna ask me.

We're just gonna get
into that same fight

we had the last time I was here.

I... It... It's just
too much to ask.

I can't do it.

It's the family tradition.

No.

I did it.

My mother did it.

Her mother did it.

Her mother did it before her.

I said no.

I don't care who did it.

Her mother did it.

Mama, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry you had the dream.

I'm sorry you're gonna die.

I'm sorry the family tradition
is gonna die with you.

But that is just the way it is.

I can't do this for anybody,
not even for my mama.

Her mother did it.

Oh...

What's the matter, honey?

Oh, Sammy, Sammy.

It's this stupid
family tradition.

Since the beginning of time,
every woman in our family...

who has children...

has named one of her sons

with the first
name of her father

and the maiden
name of her mother.

And I just wouldn't do it.

I don't mean to take
your mother's side here,

but what's the big deal?

It's just a name.

Oh, yeah, sure, just a name.

Why, uh, what was
your father's first name?

Benito.

And your mother's maiden name?

Mussolini.

Yikes.

Could I have some
more sauce, please?

(Mama moaning)

ZIA (gasps): The death walk.

She's still here.

I feel her presence
like a shiv in my heart.

Mama.

I'm not rejecting you.

I just don't want to name one
of my sons Benito Mussolini.

Why not?

Because, back a few years,

there was another
Benito Mussolini.

Remember him?

I don't see why
one Fascist dictator

should ruin it for
the entire family.

Mama, you are the
only one who even cares

about that stupid name.

Everybody else
agrees with me, right?

Oh, you're an ungrateful child.

You make me sick.

b*tch.

Okay.

Well, just forget all of you.

I hate this family.

I hate this house.

I just never want to
come back here again.

I swear it.

I swear it a million times.

I swear on my children's
eyes, I am never, ever, ever

setting foot in this stupid,
ugly, stinkin' rattrap again.

Well, there goes my ride.

How can her mother expect her

to name one of her kids
after Benito Mussolini?

Well, it could have been worse.

What if her father's
name had been Adolf?

Yeah.

Yeah, and her
mother's maiden name

could have been Menjou.

Phew.

She really dodged
the b*llet there.

Anyway, I gave her the day off

so she could just go home
and cool out, you know.

Well, very often

that's the best thing you can do

when you're not getting
along with a family member.

Remove yourself
entirely from them.

Find some neutral place

where you can take the time
you need to be away from them.

You really think so, Fras?

Well, that's...

that's why we're
all here, isn't it?

Thank you very much.

Great.

Four more freebies,

thanks to Woody's
stupid coupon book.

I'm sorry, Woody.

I didn't see you there.

Of course I'm there.

I'm always there.

Wherever there's a stupid idea,

that's where you'll find me.


Stupid old Woody Boyd...

Father of stupid thoughts,

eye of the stupid storm.

I've got to be the stupidest
guy on the face of the Earth.

Woody, please don't
say that. Why not?

Because you are giving
me a stupid headache.

Welcome to my private hell.

Hi, Sam.

How are you doing,
honey? Better.

I went home,

went to my bedroom,
shut off all the lights

and laid down on my bed.

Then... I started thinking.

What if I was dying and
Serafina refused to do

the one thing that
meant the most to me.

How would I feel?

So you apologized
to your mother?

No. I went out and
yelled at Serafina.

I felt a lot better.

So I went and yelled
at all the rest of the kids.

Then I started thinking,

why should I be
having all this fun

when my mom's dying?

So I decided I had to try
to do something for her.

Well, I've got a bunch of
these coupon books left.

They're only good for a month,

but I guess in her
case, that doesn't matter.

Anyway, all the kids were there,

so I figured it wouldn't
hurt to ask them

if anyone would fulfill their
grandmother's dying wish

and change their name
to Benito Mussolini.

Any takers?

No.

But I got two Madonnas
and an MC Hammer.

Well,

that's that.

I tried everything I can.

She didn't try the coupons.

Sam?

God, I hate it
when he says that.

What? What? What're
you gonna nitpick this time?

What, am I mixing
my drinks too loud?

Am I using the wrong
kind of lightbulb?

Oh, excuse me, maybe
some of my bar air

accidentally wafted up
to your establishment.

Sam, you're on the defensive.

I'm not on the defensive,
and you say that again,

I'm gonna pull the last
three hairs off your head.

Sam, I merely came
down to apologize

for my intrusive
behavior earlier today.

Really?

Yes.

I know I'd be resentful
if someone implied

that I should run my
business in a particular way.

It was out of line for
me to do so with you.

Oh.

Well... thank you.

I'm sorry, I am
a little defensive.

Well, no harm done.

In fact, to clear the air,

I'd like to buy a round of
drinks for everyone here.

(cheering)

Here you are, Sam.

I think this should cover it.

Oh, and I'd like one
of your special martinis

I've heard so much about.

Oh, I'm out of coupons.

Well, then, never mind.

Hey, Ma.

Gino, what are you doing here?

Well, Ma, I was thinking
about all that stuff you said,

you know about-about
making Grandma happy,

and I was talking it over
with MC and the Madonnas,

and I figured, heck,

if it'll keep this
family together,

someone's gotta do it.

Ma, I'll be Benito Mussolini.

Look, Gino,

do you even have any
idea who Mussolini was?

Well, no, I didn't before,

but then Anthony
told me all about him.

Ma, this guy ran
this whole country.

And do you know
what they called him?

They called him Il Duce.

Huh? The Dooch.

Hey, yeah, that's right.

It's me... Dooch Tortelli.

That is a horrible name,

and I never want
to hear it again.

It sounds awful. (phone ringing)

I hate that name,
and I hate Mama

for asking me to give it to you.

Okay.

Carla, that was your brother.

He said to get over
there right away.

Your mother's going fast.

No.

I swore I'd never go
back in that house again.

I have my pride.

Okay.

Gino, want to grab her
feet... I'll get the rest of her.

Come here, come here,
come on, come on, come on.

No! No! Put me down!

Put me down! I don't want to go!

Would you hoist me
a little higher, guys?

I'd like to have some
butt left when I get there.

Oh, no.

I'm too late.

Oh, Mama.

Oh, Mama, I'm sorry.

Please forgive me.

I hope you can hear me.

I hope you can rest now.

I swear

on your memory,

that my Gino is now named

Benito Mussolini.

Well, it's about time.

I was getting bedsores.

You're not dead.

You're not dead at all.

You were never dying.

You just did this to trick me.

And you were all in on it.

We listen to our mother.

And we thought
it would be funny.

GINO: Ma! No, Ma!

You, you never
even had the dream.

You just did this to trick me

into getting to name
my kid that stupid name.

I had to.

You're stubborn as
your grandmother's mule,

who, incidentally,
you were named after.

I honor tradition.

Yeah, well, I'm gonna
give you something to honor

right in the labonz!

Ladies, ladies, please, please.

Please. Stay out of this,

if you know what's
good for you, Paddy.

Listen, I may be old,

but I can still instruct
others to hurt you.

Benito, kick your mother

in the teeth for me.
Okay, Grandma.

Don't you order...

Don't you order my son around.

Gino, go punch your
grandma in the kidneys.

Okay, Ma.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

You, you're big,

throw Carla out the window.

No, I'm not gonna
throw her out the window.

All right.

I'll do it, sick as I am.

Please, please, I...

Mrs. Lozupone, I don't
mean to be disrespectful here,

but, you know,
you're not being fair.

You're asking your daughter here

to-to name her son
after a very bad man.

And-and you faked death

to get her to do it.

I mean, these
are not your, uh...

typical mother things.

Are you saying I'm a bad mother?

Well, yeah, in this
case, yeah, I am.

(all gasping)

CARLA: Sam.

What?

You insulted my mother.

In her own house.

With the food that we
cooked over her deathbed

still stuck in your teeth.

Is that bad?

(all hissing)

(hissing continues)

That's great, Carla.

I'm glad you guys made up.

Well, his name is
now Benito Mussolini.

Call him Gino, for short.

Yeah, she sounds so happy.

She said that's the first
time they've all sat down

to a family dinner in years.

They ate, they laughed,

they even got up and danced.

Those Italian families
sound so warm.

Yeah, I know what
you mean, Woody.

Gee, I often wish that I was
a member of an ethnic group.

Oh, it's...

Oh, it's just as well.

I hate hugging.

Frasier, it's time to go.

Boy, I-I sure married
the right woman.

Good-bye, Mama.

I love you. Mmm.

See you next week.

Oh, wait a minute, I
almost forgot something.

Good night, Sammy.

(muffled): Carla, please
let me out. Please.

Sammy, would you stop whining?

It's a family tradition.

You cross Mama,
you sleep in the wall.

(muffled shouting)