Cliff: Cheers is filmed before a live studio audience.
Let me help you with that, Sam.
It's ok, Woody. I'm not as old as I look.
Really?
Sam, I don't know if this would interest you, but I have an extra ticket tonight for Jacques brell is alive and well and living in Paris.
Ahh, he's not doing that underwater stuff anymore?
Ha ha ha ha ha.
Jacques brell was a Belgian balladeer who wrote songs of great passion and power in the fifties and sixties.
You mean like, uh...
Who put the bop in the bop-shoo-bop-shoo-bop?
Ah, so you're busy.
Who put the bop?
Yeah. You remember that? The great old song, right up there with yakety yak.
Yakety yak?
Come on, you remember the coasters, don't you?
No.
You're kidding.
How about the shirelles or the platters or Dixie cups?
Sorry.
You don't remember any of those old groups?
Oh, old groups. You mean like devo.
Maybe you better take this.
♪ Makin' your way in the world today ♪
♪ takes everything you've 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 ♪
Off to class, huh? What do you got today?
Ahh, sissy French painters of the 17th century.
As a matter of fact, I'm on my way to my beginning meem class.
Meem?
Most people pronounce it mime.
Mime?
Yeah, you know, Woody, those guys with white paint all over their faces, so bouncy and happy you just wanna strangle them.
You're not serious.
Everyone loves a meem.
No, everybody loves a clown. Everybody hates a mime.
That's simply not true.
Well, you know, I saw this guy in the common one day.
Did an amazing performance.
He did a crane, a mother crane feeding its young.
Turns out, the guy's actually choking on a piece of gum.
I was moved, frankly.
Norm, you can make light of it all you want, but it is an ancient art form.
It has been around since the times of Caesar augustine.
Yeah? So are those socks you're wearing. Who cares?
You know, it is the purest form of communication.
Diane, why don't you give us a little exhibition here?
Oh, I couldn't. I'm really just a novice.
I've only had 3 lessons. All right.
Ladies and gentlemen, Diane the mimette.
All right, she's starting off here with your basic cop directing traffic.
[Sam laughs]
Segueing into a waiter carrying a heavy tray of dishes.
Yeah, it's good.
Completing it with the midget imitating Judy garland.
Very nice. Bravo, bravo.
Yeah, good.
It was a person trapped in a shrinking box.
I'd say you better scurry off to class.
You got a lot of practicing to do.
Now that I know.
Hey, Sammy, mail in?
Yeah. Here you go, Carla.
You expecting something special?
Oh, I don't wanna talk about it.
It's too depressing.
Oh, come on. We're your buddies here.
Yeah, you don't wanna keep that stuff inside.
It'll eat you up.
That's what I need...
You chowderheads trying to solve my problems.
Come on, now. I'd say that 4 brains plus whatever cliffy has are better than one.
Come on. We wanna help. Let us help.
Ok, ok. Try this one for size...
In case you haven't noticed, my luck with men hasn't been so great lately.
In fact, all my dates fall into 2 categories...
Geeks and those studying to enter the geekhood.
So in order to increase my odds, I decided to enlist the full resources of the media.
I put this ad in the personals of Boston scene, so it's been 2 weeks, and no one has answered.
Can you help with that?
Well, all right, give us a second here.
Guys...
Hey... Yeah. What?
You got a cr*ck in the ceiling there, Sammy.
Just what I thought. Thanks, guys.
Oh, come on, come on. We're just kidding now.
We're gonna really help.
Why would he write you here, anyway?
You think I want some sex-starved creep camped out on my doorstep?
One of my neighbors might get him first.
Let me see the ad. Which one is it?
Right there after "speed eater seeks same."
All right, all right.
"Divorced female, warm, witty, and Italian in every way except fat."
Sounds good so far.
Yeah. "33, 5'1/4", dark-brown hair, "brown eyes, no visible scars, tattoos or birthmarks, "seeking possible serious relationship.
Note: I have 6 children. This is not a misprint. 6."
Oh, my, I can't believe. Not one guy has answered this?
Carla, my dear, you're forgetting the basic principle of advertising...
Lying.
Oh, sure, I can tell 'em I got no kids, right?
I could tell 'em that I'm 21, 5'9", gorgeous green eyes, flaming red hair, and ta-tas till Tuesday.
How am I gonna explain the way I really look when he sees me?
Stress?
All right, next time I spill my guts, remind me to do it in front of friends.
I was just trying to cheer you up.
I am in no mood to be cheered up.
Next guy tries to cheer me up is gonna get open-face surgery.
[Whistles]
I don't get it. She's got ta-tas till Monday afternoon at least.
Boy, she's really bad off. We gotta think here now.
Come on, put ourselves in her place.
What would I do if I couldn't get a date?
Who am I kidding?
Why don't one of us write her?
Yeah, you wanna date her?
No, no, no. No, I think he means why don't we make up a guy?
I don't know, man. Make up a guy?
Too risky, too risky.
Yeah, she'd suspect something the minute she met him.
No, no, we wouldn't have to let it go that far.
In the meantime, we're giving her hope, a little confidence...
The more confident she is, the more attractive she'll feel.
Make her more attractive to some real guy or something like that.
Sounds good.
All right, I'm in.
We're in. All for one and one for all, right?
Gee, Mr. Clavin, your hands are soft like a girl's.
My feet have got calluses on 'em just like every other part of my body.
Woody, get me some paper there.
Hey, Carla's gonna love this, don't you think?
I hope she realizes what great friends she has here.
She will. And if she doesn't, what do you say we have this guy dump all over her?
Good idea.
We don't have anything with lines.
That's ok. I'll be careful.
Ok, before we start writing, I suggest we just figure out who exactly this guy is.
Hey, we're making him up. He can be anybody we want him to be...
Doctor, ski instructor.
No, that's the point. If the guy's too fabulous, she'll be onto us in a second.
All right. It's gotta be somebody who's not in her league usually.
We can make him a postman.
Nah, nah, too much.
You guys, we're sunk already.
She asked for a picture.
No, wait a second. We're back afloat here.
Check this out. How's this for your basic stud?
Oh, yeah, he's great. Who is he?
No idea. Just came with the wallet.
Hey, look at this. Letter for Carla tortelli.
What?
My goodness.
Let me see. Come on, come on.
What's the magic word?
Gelding.
That's the one. Yeah.
What is it, Carla?
Someone or thing had the nerve to answer my ad.
Ok, everybody gather round for a good laugh.
"My dearest Carla...
I was intrigued by your warm, honest ad."
"I'll be candid as well.
I was married myself, but, sadly, it failed."
Waah-waah.
"I'm not much for bars." Hmm. "Or the single scene.
"I prefer a quiet night, a warm fire, and pleasant company."
Very sensitive.
Hmm..."I'd love to meet you soon, but, unfortunately, "my job as an international airline pilot keeps me real busy flying places most people only dream about."
Whoo.
Talking adventuresome.
"For the moment, then, we'll have to depend on the u.S. Postal service."
No trouble there.
"Sincerely, Mitch Wainwright.
P.s. I love kids."
Oh, no, you're kidding me.
Boy, whoo, you really hit the mother lode there, didn't you?
Ahh, I don't know.
What do you mean you don't know?
What do you want?
Well, I guess he does sound kind of... Great.
You bet he does.
Carla, you have no way of knowing if this man is telling the truth about himself.
Don't you think I thought of that?
But if this guy is only half as good as he sounds, he's twice as good as any of the dirtbags I've ever dated.
Just wish he sent a picture.
He did.
What? He probably did.
He usually... check in the envelope there.
There is a picture.
Oh, yeah?
[Squeals] Come to mama.
Look at that guy. Whoo!
Handsome, yeah.
Good vibes, huh?
There's something suspicious about this whole situation.
No, there's nothing suspicious here.
How do you know?
I know, I know.
Sam... is this your handiwork?
Uhhhhhh...
I can't believe you did something this stupid.
She was depressed.
We were just trying to help her out, that's all.
Nothing's going to top the depression of going after the man of her dreams and finding you there.
Believe me, I know whereof I speak.
There's no way she's gonna find out.
Hey, this guy looks familiar.
Where have I seen this face before?
Er, uh, probably the airport.
Yeah, pilots hang out there.
All the time.
I got it. He's in a frame I just bought at woolworth's.
You're kidding.
Oh, my god. He's a model, too.
Hey.
[All snicker]
So, did Carla get the latest edition of the Mitch gazette yet?
She's in the back reading it right now.
Have you noticed how Carla's kind of perking up lately?
I'll admit, she's much less repulsive.
Bordering on sufferable, but that doesn't make what you're doing right.
Oh, come on. Give her her moment in the sun there.
I mean, after all, you had yours with me.
You're not referring to that nanosecond under a penlight, are you?
Oh, no.
What is that?
Little surprise I have for you, Sam.
I hate surprises.
And you know what else I hate.
Bravo.
Sam, I'd like you to meet lev agajanian, better known as sotto the mime.
Sotto, this is Sam Malone.
Oh, hi.
That's very funny, very funny.
Get him out of here, please.
Sam, be nice. Sotto is our mime in residence at the college and a visitor to this country.
Whatever.
Hi! My name's Woody Boyd!
Woody, you don't have to shout.
Oh, he's a lip reader.
Sam, what would you say if I told you that sotto has generously offered to entertain your customers? No.
Oh, please. No.
I predict that by the end of the evening, you'll have fallen in love with this art form.
And sotto will have picked up a lot of spare change.
This is the stuff I hate.
Sam, this is his art.
Well, just keep his art out of my face.
Aw, thank you, Sam.
Hey, would you please get of my bar there?
You won't regret this.
So where's your fly boy off to this time, Carla?
Cairo.
He's gonna buzz the sphinx for me in his 747.
Oh, good lord.
Even the stick's jealous.
I just can't wait to meet this guy face to face.
Although I am gonna play hard-to-get.
I intend to meet him with all my clothes on.
Carla, since you mentioned it, when are you going to meet this Mitch fellow?
Well, he's doing the Paris to Bombay flight now.
I have to wait till they switch him back to the domestic route.
You know, life's funny.
How's that?
I mean, today, I'm with Mitch on top of the world.
And just a couple of weeks ago, I'd have settled for fish bait like Vinnie claussen.
Who's Vinnie claussen?
Some loser who had the nerve to answer my ad.
Uh, uh, Carla, hold on a second here.
Listen, maybe you should reconsider this.
Uh, Mitch is out of town a lot.
Maybe you might like this Vinnie guy.
Yeah, there's nothing wrong with playing the field.
Except with someone who's grazing in it.
Look at this guy.
Fetch.
Take a look at him. He's not that bad-looking.
Yeah, but next to Mitch, he looks like a weasel.
But looks aren't everything, Carla.
Vinnie... I bet he's got a lot of stuff going for him.
I don't know about you, but being a funeral director seems darn-near as thrilling as aviation to me.
Yeah, flowers, limousines.
Hey, forget it, all right.
I'm through with bozos like that.
I'm at the university of Mitch now.
Well, I hope you're all proud of yourselves.
Carla's now turning down living, breathing human beings for your mythical aviator.
Guys, how come we didn't see this one coming?
Oh, this from a group who, every year, fails to see winter coming.
Thanks for reminding me, Diane.
I gotta take those screens down.
Hey, Sam, what time does the floor show end?
Yeah, it got it, I got it.
Hey, come here, come here.
Listen, sotto, we gotta talk.
Yeah, all right, all right.
No, don't do this.
Listen.
That's very clever, yeah.
Listen, you've been here 3 hours.
This is just not working out.
I'm gonna start losing customers here.
I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to leave.
Now, I want you to b*at it.
Oh, god, don't tempt me, man.
Don't tempt me.
Sam, is there a problem?
Yeah, get him out of here before there's clown white all over the walls.
All right, fine. Uh, sotto...
I think my attempt at enlightening Sam has failed.
I'm afraid you're going to have to go.
So I'll see you tomorrow.
I know. I know what will win them over.
Do your robot that winds down.
Uh-huh.
Wonderful. You are a master.
What control.
Ah, mime-putting.
Same time tomorrow?
He spoke. It's a miracle.
Yeah, ok, all right. From now on, nobody works in this bar that wears more make-up than you do.
All right.
Excuse me. My name is Vinnie claussen.
How do you do?
You don't look like a weasel.
Thank you. Neither do you.
Is Carla tortelli here?
Oh, just a minute.
Hey, Carla... Hmm?
Vinnie claussen's here to see you.
What's he doing here?
Well, you better not watch this, kid.
You're about to see a guy's dreams dashed on the rocks of tortelli point.
Carla? Yep.
I-i-I'm Vinnie claussen.
Yeah, I know. I got your letter.
Already. I was hoping to meet you before you got it.
I don't express myself very well on paper, and it's not the best picture of me.
Vinnie, really, I don't wanna see you making a fool of yourself in front of all these people.
Fact of the matter is, someone b*at you to me.
Oh, gee, I'm sorry to hear that.
Especially now that I met you.
Well, uh, I'd offer her as a consolation prize, but you're probably sick of dealing with stiffs.
Well, guess I'll be leaving, then.
Yeah, better luck next time.
Sam.
Vinnie, let me buy you a drink, would you?
Take care of him.
Carla, can I talk to you for a second, please?
So, how long you been interested in dead guys?
Uh, listen, before I start, do me a favor, will you?
Stick your hands in your pockets and keep 'em there until I finish.
What's going on?
Just humor me, will you?
Ok, but don't start in on me about going out with this claussen guy.
He's all right, but he's no Mitch.
Listen to me. Mitch doesn't exist.
The guys and I made him up.
You what?
You were so depressed, we figured we had to do something, so we made the guy up, wrote the letters, and rented a post office box for you to write to him.
Ow! Damn. Ow. I forgot the feet.
You are scum. You are the scum that scum scrapes off the bottom of their shoes.
You're always looking at the negative side to everything.
I hate your guts. I hate every one of you.
Why did you do this? What was it, some big laugh?
You wanted to see me get all moony-eyed, and then yank the rug out.
You get a big laugh there, huh, huh? No?
Then what did you do it for?
What did you think was gonna come of this?
We had that covered. We weren't gonna let you get hurt.
When it came time to meet the guy, we were gonna have the plane go down in the south pacific.
Ow!
[Lady screams]
Sorry.
Hey, just drop dead twice.
Carla, wait. Wait. Now, there's something you don't understand.
What they did was imbecilic, moronic, and ill-conceived.
That's the way. Sugarcoat it.
But it was not done to make you the butt of a joke.
It was done because your friends saw their dear friend hurting, and they wanted to help.
Now, you can either walk out of here angrily, or you can trust your friends and forgive them...
And take advantage of the opportunity seated at the bar.
Why don't you give the guy a chance?
I mean, he answered your ad. He's dying to date you.
Hey, where do you think you're going?
Oh, I finished my drink.
Sit down!
Nice touch. Nice touch.
Does this mean you're gonna go out with him?
I'm thinking about it.
Actually, in a dimly-lit bar, he's not the worst thing I've ever seen.
Writes a good letter.
Probably give him as big a thrill as this Mitch guy was giving me.
Get out of here.
What do you say?
Oh, all right, you're off the hook.
Just tell me one thing...
Who wrote all those lovey parts?
Oh, that was my department.
You did a real good job.
I'm sorry if I got carried away there.
But with you, it's kind of easy.
So they say.
So, uh, how do you feel about girls on the rebound?
Oh, I've dated a few. Mostly widows.
Yeah, let's get out of here, huh?
Oh, I know this real nice restaurant.
Great, great.
So, uh, you like kids, huh?
Like 'em? I love 'em.
I got 7 of my own.
Carla...
I'm joking. I'm only joking.
Hey, Vinnie, could you do me a favor?
Just for tonight, could you pretend that your name is Mitch and that you're an airline pilot?
Well, I guess, if you'll call yourself raven and pretend you're a Vegas showgirl.
You're weird. I like that.