02x22 - I'll Be Seeing You: Part 2

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Cheers". Aired: September 1982 to May 1993.*
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"Where everybody knows your name..."
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02x22 - I'll Be Seeing You: Part 2

Post by bunniefuu »

Coach: That's it, folks. Let's lock up, please.

Hey, Carla, can I give you a lift?

I doubt it.

No, really.

Why don't you let me give you a ride home?

A ride home?

I know what a ride home means.

What?

We'll get out in front of my place, and you'll say, "boy, I could sure go for a cup of coffee now."

Out of the goodness of my heart, I'll invite you in for a cup of Jo.

We'll talk for a while.

It'll get later, quieter.

You'll ask me if my radio works.

I'll say, "yeah."

You'll put on a soft music station.

A song will come on we both like.

We'll start dancing a little bit around the kitchen floor.

As we're dancing, you'll take a chance.

You'll give me a little kiss right here.

Carla, I'm not that kind of guy.

Shut up and listen.

You give me a little kiss me right here, then you give me a little nibble on the ear.

Which ear?

Your choice.

I respond reluctantly, which really makes you crazy.

♪ Makin' your way in the world today ♪

♪ takes everything you got ♪

♪ takin' a break from all your worries ♪

♪ sure would help a lot ♪

♪ wouldn't you like to get away ♪

♪ sometimes you wanna go ♪

♪ where everybody knows your name ♪

♪ and they're always glad you came ♪

♪ you wanna be where you can see ♪

♪ our troubles are all the same ♪

♪ you wanna be where everybody knows your name ♪

♪ you wanna go where people know ♪

♪ people are all the same ♪

♪ you wanna go where everybody knows your name ♪

Hi. My name's Ernie pantuso.

I'm supposed to tell you what happened last week on cheers.

I'm good at explaining things because I used to be a baseball coach.

Here, let me illustrate.

Now, you may remember me from my playing days in the minors.

I still hold the league record for the most times hit by a pitch.

That's as good as a hit.

Anyway... where was I?

Oh, last week on cheers, this fella, semenko, came into the bar.

He's a very famous artist.

While he was here, this semenko fella saw Diane and he got an idea.

He decided to paint her picture.

He thought there was something special about her puss.

Diane loved the idea because she'd heard of this fella and thought he was good.

And as you all know, Diane's very smart.

Well, the trouble is, when Sam met this artist, semenko, he hated him.

He told him he couldn't paint Diane's picture, and he told him to get out of the place.

Semenko started to go, and Sam left the room.

Diane pretended to go along, but then Diane went behind Sam's back.

Hey, wait a minute.

This is starting to look like a diagram for our old double steal.

As soon as the pitcher goes into his windup, the runner on first breaks for second, and the runner on second breaks for third.

Or if second and third are occupied, the runner on second breaks for third and the man on third goes home.

The batter hits the ball to the opposite field, which means the field plays to home plate.

Now, wait a minute.

I'm sorry. This isn't the double steal at all.

These are directions to my daughter's house.

No, I'm wrong again. She moved. Or did she?

Anyway, Diane was going behind Sam's back.

Wait. I really want you to paint me.

What about that malignant growth you call a boyfriend?

Once he sees the finished work, he'll forgive me.

He'll forgive you. He'll forgive everything.

He'll hate it, and he'll hate you for doing it.

So you won't do it?

I'll do it for free.

Listen, I don't know about you, but I'm worried.

I can't remember where my daughter lives.

Oh, well, you're up to date.

Let me see. It's somewhere in new england, something something Lane or drive...

Ok, listen up, everybody, will you?

The picnic is off.

Why is that, coach?

Lack of interest... I'm just calling it quits.

Sorry we spoiled your picnic, coach.

My picnic?

You think I was doing this all for me?

Do you think I like sitting out there in the dust and the dirt and fighting the ants for a chicken leg?

I can do that at home.

But, listen, forget everything.

Just forget the picnic.

Forget my sweat and all my work.

Forget me.

Aw, what the heck.

I'm going to coach's picnic.

Stick my name up there too, will you, sharkey?

The "pathetic old man" bit, Carla... works like a charm.

Afternoon, everybody.

Norm! Norm! Norm!

What's up, normie?

The temperature under my collar, coach.

Oh, what's the matter there, big guy?

That damn hungry heifer restaurant again.

The place is the pits.

Wait. You went back? I thought you hated it there.

I got lured back by their surf-and-turf special.

Oh, yeah. What's that, lobster and steak, huh?

Tuna fish sandwich with beef gravy.

Well, Diane is late again today.

You know something? She's been late every day this week.

Ever since Sammy threw that guy semenko out of the bar.

Well, I could have told Sammy a lot about that guy.

He's a real head case.

And, like all artists worthy of the name, the man is a h*m*.

Come on, cliff. You think that everybody who's the slightest bit different is gay.

Oh, hey, no. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt.

All right. You think that all artists are gay.

Absolutely. I mean, if you don't believe me, I can bring down this coffee table book I got at home.

Nude male statuary.

And you tell me after you look at those pictures if the guys who chiseled those lads aren't a little light in the loafers.

Phillip...

That's wonderful.

Really, it is.

Damn it!

I've run out of talent.

Phillip...

I'm worthless.

I'm a dog.

Stick a Kn*fe between my shoulder blades.

Phillip, please.

You do this every day.

Today, it's different.

I've really lost it.

Is there anything I can do?

There is one thing.

Well, anything. What?

Let's go to bed.

You want to...

Make love?

No. I always take a nap with a blond in the afternoon.

Phillip, I don't know what to say.

I thought we had a professional relationship.

Ok. Afterwards, you can pay me.

I make love to everything I paint.

Your most famous painting is of the harvard/yale football game.

Yes. I spent three months in jail.

College types don't understand me.

I do, however, still get a few Christmas cards.

Phillip...

You're a very talented man.

If we had met at a different time, in a different place...

Wait a minute.

The problem is not my talent. It's you.

You've lost your agony.

You've lost that sense of anguish that drew me to you.

I'm dreadfully sorry. What should I do to get unhappy?

Why don't you go see what bullwinkle's doing?

Don't call him that.

Who?

I know to whom you are referring.

You're always making remarks about him.

I don't like that.

You don't know him.

I know him.

I know him better than you do.

What a prize!

Phillip, stop.

I admit, Sam and I are very different people.

Sometimes, that's good.

Sometimes it's not so good.

Sometimes he makes me cry.

Sometimes he hurts me and seems to like it.

That's it.

It's back.

The torment is back, and with it, my brilliance.

I'll put some coffee on.

Never mind. I'm done.

What?

Oh, Phillip...

I love it.

So will Sam. He will.

Ha!

Ok, I got it.

My problems are solved.

An exploding pizza for Diane?

No. That's good, but no.

Remember how she was so disappointed that I wouldn't let that smirnoff guy paint her?

She keeps insisting he's a great artist.

We all know what that means, right?

Well, I finally got something to cheer her up here.

I had somebody do a great painting of her from those photographs that weren't good enough for laughing boy.

Where did you get it, Sam?

I saw an ad in TV guide...

You know, the one with the cover story about the 10 cutest sitcom kids.

Oh, yeah. Interesting reading.

Well, this guy takes an ordinary photograph, and he turns it into a work of art.

Are you ready for this?

Yeah.

Good one, Sammy.

Even I think that's tacky!

Real jerky, huh?

I knew that.

Don't you worry about me.

I knew that.

A real work of art there, Sam.

This is great, actually.

I was afraid she might think I was serious, but I see now that the humor of this isn't wasted on anybody.

Diane: It's of one the most powerful visual statements of melancholy I've ever seen, and Sam will appreciate that it's atrabilious, yet not a bit lugubrious.

If you think Sam's going to love this painting, you're crazier than I'm accused of being.

Go ahead and show it to him.

Good-bye.

You're not coming to the bar to show it to... Everyone?

No, but say hi to all the g*ng for me.

Besides, I think you should be alone with Mortimer tomorrow.

Don't call him that, and why should I be alone with him?

Because it's the last time you'll ever see him.

Hi, Carla. Sorry I'm late.

Yeah, yeah.

What's that?

The large package is a portrait of me.

It's that weirdo artist that Sam threw out of here, right?

I knew what you've been doing all this week.

You figured it out?

Of course. It's all so obvious.

Carla, I've been late a lot this week.

You've had to do a lot of extra work. Here.

What is it?

It's a gift.

My way of saying you did something nice for me, and I thank you.

Hey! That's beautiful!

I thought you could wear it with your purple outfit.

Yeah! Yeah, I probably can!

Carla...

It's polite to express gratitude when one is given a gift.

Yeah, right.

Damn! I loved that thing, too.

Carla, keep it.

Oh, good!

Where's Sam?

In the back.

Carla, why don't you take the day off?

I'll cover. I owe it to you.

Go join the picnic.

Uh-uh. Ok. I know what you're doing here.

I see what you're up to.

You're doing all this just to get me to say that thing that people say when other people do favors for them.

You don't have to say it.

Go ahead and go.

I don't? Well, thank you!

Aah! Ohh! Ohh! Yuck!

Oh, I have to punish my tongue!

Aaagh!

Hey, babe, what's up?

This.

What's that?

It's a painting of me.

It was that semenko guy, wasn't it?


You went behind my back.

I told you I didn't want you to do this.

You knew exactly how I felt, and yet you went ahead and did it.

Sam, let's not talk until after you look at it.

I don't want to look at it.

I want an explanation here.

This is my explanation!

Fine, fine, fine.

I'll look at the damn thing.

No, I don't want you to look at it in that frame of mind.

Well, tough. Tough!

No, you're upset, and I don't want you to look at it until your mind is open.

It's filled with animosity to Phillip and me.

It is not.

My mind is completely empty, all right?

No! I'm not going to have you look at this until you calm down.

You're crazy, you know that?

First, you bring in this and tell me that you want me to look at it, and now you won't let me look at it.

You can look at it.

I just have to see some evidence of calmness.

I'm calm, Diane.

No, you're not.

I am calm.

No, you're not.

I'm calm.

If I were any more calm, I would be dead.

Your knuckles are white, and your jaw muscles are quivering.

I get that way when I'm about to look at art.

Now come on.

We'll do this later.

Fine. Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine.

I don't want anything to distract you from your enjoyment of this painting.

When you see it, you'll understand and forgive.

What happens if I hate it?

I know you're going to love it, because in the last six months, you've come so far and made so much progress.

You know, you sound like you're talking about a chimp.

I just push the right buttons and out pops a banana.

That's a ludicrous comparison.

There isn't a chimp alive who could keep up with you.

You know, you always do this.

I really hate it.

You think you have to tell poor Sam what he should like, what he shouldn't like, how he should walk, how he should talk, what fork he should use with his soup and salad.

I know. I know!

You don't use a fork with soup!

I just said you use a fork with soup. It was a mistake.

Please do not say, "you don't use a fork with soup."

If you do nothing else for me the rest of your life, do not say, "you don't use a fork with soup."

My god, Sam.

I've made you a babbling idiot.

Who are you calling a babbling idiot, huh?

Don't get upset.

I'm actually criticizing myself.

You just called me a babbling idiot, and you're criticizing yourself?

Do me a favor. Let me criticize me for a while, huh?

You're sickening.

I should have known.

I tried to convince myself that you... that I'm...

That we're...

This relationship has always been a contest of wills.

I give up.

All my rage is gone.

Maybe everything is gone.

Wait. Ah, I see what you're doing here.

You don't want to fight because I'm winning.

I hammered you pretty good on this one, huh?

Actually, I've won a lot of these babies.

I just never mentioned it before.

Yeah. Come on.

I'm leaving. I find this very tiresome all of a sudden.

Oh, no, no. You're not leaving yet, not until we've had a brouhaha.

Brou on your own haha.

I tell you, I'm through.

I'm empty.

Oh, yeah?

The only thing empty about you is your head. Ha! Huh?

You go out that door now, I'm gonna be crawling with chicks by sundown.

Wait, wait, wait. I'm not through yet.

Watch this. I'm gonna do it, too.

I really am going to do this.

All right. All right.

Wait, wait, wait. I'm saving my best for last here.

Are you ready for my best?

Ok, this is my best sh*t right here.

Oh, my god.

Childish?

It's degrading to me, to you, to the human race!

This doesn't bother me at all, Sam.

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

Got you. Got you.

I win, again.

I want you to know something.

Ever since we've known each other, I've said to myself, "one day, we are going to get down to the real you."

Well, we did it.

Do you know what the difference is between you and a fat, braying ass?

Nope.

The fat, braying ass would.

Speaking of fat, braying asses, you're about to get dumped on yours.

How dare you slap me?

Don't you ever hit me again!

Like hell.

You always think you got to get the last one in.

All right. Come on.

Ow! Ow!

Come on.

Please, come on. Let go. All right?

You first. All right. All right.

On the count of 3.

1...

2...

3... now.

You're not letting go!

You're squeezing harder!

That's because you're not letting go.

I'm not letting go because you're squeezing harder.

Ow! Ow!

Come on! Come on!

This is it.

We have sunk as low...

As human beings can sink!

There's no degradation left.

Ah.

Ooh.

Heh.

Are you ok?

Do I look ok?

Actually, you look a little like Rudolph.

Come to me, my sweet little reindeer.

Your big old stag's in town.

Don't touch me.

Oh, come on. Come on.

You hit me!

Well, not hard.

What does that mean, "not hard"?

It means not as hard as I wanted to.

I'm leaving.

No. Wait, wait. You're not leaving yet, not until I say one more thing.

Oh, what?

Get the hell out of here.

You are about to cross a very dangerous line.

You heard me. I want you out.

If this is coming out of the heat of the moment, it is a very bad mistake, one which you will never be able to correct.

Out.

Because if I go, I am never, ever coming back.

Can I get that in writing?

Oh, damn. I only got pencils.

I'd sure like to get this in ink.

Don't joke, Sam!

I mean it!

And I want you to understand, if you don't stop me now, this is the last time you'll ever see me.

Fine.

Hey...

Diane.

This is it, huh?

This is it.

Good-bye.

Good-bye.

Wow.
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