Roz In The Doghouse Written by Chuck Ranberg
& Anne Flett-Giordano
Directed by James Burrows
=====================================================================
Production Code: 2.12.
Original Airdate on NBC: 3rd January 1995.
Transcript written on 31st March 1999.
Quotes and Scene Summary {shawne wang}
KACL: Frasier is listening to a caller.
Marie: [voice-over] Um, you see, Dr. Crane, there's this man I'd
like to go out with, but he's forty years old and he's never
been married. You think that means something?
Frasier: Well, it could mean he has a fear of commitment... or it
could mean he's just been lucky! [laughs at his own wit,
then realises no one is laughing with him] Marie, that was a
joke.
Marie: [sighs audibly] Did I mention I'm calling from a payphone?
Frasier: Alright, alright, Marie, um... I would say give him a shot,
but uh... I'd keep that caution bulb lit. Thank you for your
call, Marie. [punches a button] Who's next, Roz?
Roz: If you ask me, it's the divorced people you have to watch
out for. Someone's never been married - it might just mean
they're a careful shopper. Whereas your divorcee will bite
into any old fruit without even giving it a squeeze first.
Frasier: The preceding was an unbiased opinion from my never-been-
married producer, Roz, who, incidentally, has squeezed more
fruit than Tropicana. [irritably] May we take another call,
please?
Roz: We could, but it's time for a station break.
Frasier: Oh. Oh well then, we'll be right back after this. [punches a
button and removes his headphones, then enters Roz's booth]
Roz, didn't we just take a break?
Roz: [on her way out of the booth] The lot was full this morning
- I had to park at a meter. I'll be right back.
Frasier: Oh. Fine. Just hurry.
Roz: [pausing] Do I have headphone hair? Well, I might have to
flirt my way out of a parking ticket!
Frasier: Oh just go!
Roz: OK, OK!
Roz turns and runs, not noticing Bulldog who is bent down in the
passageway. She flips, literally head over heels, over him. We see
Roz sitting on the floor, Bulldog getting up when the scene changes.
Roz: Ow ow ow ow!
Frasier: My God! [hurrying over] Are you alright?
Bulldog: I got the wind knocked out of me, but I guess I'm OK.
He is supported by Gil, who has come over.
Roz: Ow, ow, my ankle!
Frasier: [bending down and touching her leg] Here, Roz. Does this
hurt?
Roz: [yelling] Aaaaaaah!!!
Frasier: Alright, there's no nerve damage at least.
Gil: We'll have to take her to have an X-ray.
Roz: Frasier, Frasier, the show!
Frasier: [starting to help her up] No, that's alright, Roz, I'll get
someone to fill in for me.
Roz: I mean right now! You've got dead air.
Frasier: Oh God! [lets go of her]
Frasier runs off-screen, a door slamming which signals his entrance
into the studio. Bulldog and Gil help a moaning Roz into a chair by
the side. The former sits next to her and the latter kneels by her
leg.
Bulldog: Take off the shoe.
Roz: [in pain] Oh. Oh.
Gil: [on removing her shoe] Oh dear.
Roz: [worried] What is it?
Gil: [distastefully] I see it's been a while since our last
pedicure.
Roz shoots a disgusted look at Bulldog. Screen fades to black.
BED AND BORED
Roz's apartment: the living room shares the same space as the bed
room, and Roz is seated on the queen-sized bed, her injured ankle
propped up on a cushion. She is trying to paint her toe nails with
polish. The door bell rings.
Roz: [calling] Who is it?
Frasier: [from behind the door]It's Frasier.
Roz: It's open.
Frasier pulls open the door and enters. He is carrying a white box.
Frasier: Hi Roz. How were things at the emergency room?
Roz: Frustrating. You know how it is... you're sitting there in
complete agony and every crybaby with a gunshot wound
waltzes right in ahead of you. How was it after I left?
Frasier: It's OK. Weird Bruce from Engineering took over for you.
[walking and looking around] That's quite a boot collection.
Won't it be easier to put notches in your bed post?
Roz: Those are mine. You hate the way I've decorated, don't you?
Frasier: No, no. Matter of fact, I admire your courage.
Roz: [noticing the box] Is that for me?
Frasier: Oh yes. [hands it to her] Freud said that there are only two
things we need to make us happy. Work... and love.
Roz: Aw! Thanks Frasier... [opens the box] So you brought me
work!
Frasier: Well, I thought answering some of the fan mail that had been
piling up would give you something to do. And remember...
this time, death threats don't get photos.
Roz's patented deathstare is interrupted by a knock on the door.
Roz: Who is it?
Bulldog: [from behind the door]It's Bulldog!
Roz: Ssssh! Pretend we're not here.
Frasier: Roz, you just said 'Who is it?'
He goes to the door and opens it. We see Bulldog, clutching some
white paper bags in his hands.
Bulldog: Hey Doc!
Frasier: Hey Dog!
Bulldog: Hey Roz! [noticing his surroundings] Wow! The whole place is
a bedroom! Hrrrr!
Roz: What are you doing here?
Bulldog: Well, I kinda feel responsible for you being on the disabled
list. So I brought you some deli.
Frasier: Nothing says I'm sorry like fatty meat.
Bulldog: [walking into the kitchen] You got your pastrami, cole
slaw... OK, where's the french fries? I ordered french
fries! [we hear him slamming his hand on a hard surface]
This stinks! This is total B.S.! [comes out of the kitchen
and notices another white bag on the E-Z table next to Roz's
bed] Oh, here they are. [grabs them and goes back into the
kitchen]
Frasier: To think he does it all without steroids.
Bulldog: [coming back out] You want me to stick these in the oven?
Roz: Actually I'm not really very hungry.
Bulldog: Oh. Then I guess you're not thirsty either? [pulls out a
champagne bottle]
Roz: Glasses are on the top shelf.
He heads back into the kitchen, bottle in hand.
Frasier: None for me, Bulldog. I'm off to the opera.
Roz: [desperately] You can't leave!
Bulldog: [calling] Hey no ice cubes!
Roz: [calling back] Just chip whatever you can off the edge of
the freezer. [whispering to Frasier] If you leave me, he'll
hit on me!
Frasier: Roz... With a sprained ankle?
Roz: You know what it's like in the jungle -- they always go
after the sick and the lame.
Frasier: Roz, I 'd like to stay, but I'm meeting people at the opera.
I've got the tickets!
Bulldog: [exiting with two glasses] Here we go. I'll get you more ice
in a minute when the feeling in my forehead comes back.
Frasier: Well, got to be going now. [opens the door and turns back]
Listen, Roz, if you need anything, feel free to call me
absolutely anytime. Well, except for the next three hours,
of course. I'm at the opera. Oh no no no... four hours, it's
Wagner. Um... oh then I've got a late supper, then right to
bed. I've got an early squash game. Tell you what, let's
just say call me anytime after four tomorrow afternoon.
He opens the door and exits, leaving Roz quite effectively in the
doghouse.
Bulldog: Hey. [clinks her glass with his] This is nice. You and me,
having a drink together.
Roz: [draining her glass] Yeah. It's been fun. Bye! [slams her
glass onto the E-Z table]
Bulldog: How come you only painted two toenails?
Roz: [sighing] 'Cos it hurts too much when I reach.
Bulldog: Hey, you want me to finish them for ya?
He sits himself down on the bed, picking up the bottle of nail
polish.
Roz: No, please, it's OK.
Bulldog: Hey, it's a nice colour. Goes with the bruise.
Roz: Bulldog, I mean it. Stop it.
Bulldog: Hey, you got nice feet!
Roz: Really? You don't think they're too big?
Bulldog: You kidding? I could get this whole thing in my mouth, easy.
[starts painting her nails]
Roz: [semi-suspiciously] You know, it's really nice of you to do
all this for me. Kind of surreal... but nice.
Bulldog: Oh, I figure if I'm nice to you, maybe you'll be nice to me.
Roz: [pushing herself off the bed] I knew it, I knew it! You come
over here acting all sympathetic, but you're still the same
old horny low-class slimeball you've always been!
Bulldog: Hey, before you say something that ends up offending me...
look, all I wanted to ask ya is if... you'll be interested
in producing my show.
Roz: [shocked] What?
Bulldog: Yeah, I'm not real crazy about the guy I got now. And let's
face it - you're the best producer there is.
Roz: You really think I'm the best?
Bulldog: Hey, that goes without saying.
Roz: [obviously won over] Well, Frasier goes without saying it
every day. [sits back down]
Bulldog: Well, you don't have to answer right now, just take your
time and think about it. But I gotta warn ya, when I set my
mind on something, I get it. I once wanted to interview
George Forman. He said no... but I got him. [starts painting
again] I had to paint his toenails four times, but I got
him!
Frasier's apartment: Roz is seated on the couch, her injured leg in
Daphne's lap. Daphne is giving her a massage.
Daphne: It's probably the ligaments.
Roz: Daphne, that feels great. Whatever Frasier's paying you, it's
not enough.
Daphne: Actually, I'll need a raise to get me to 'not enough'.
The door opens, and Martin enters, followed by Niles.
Martin: Hey Roz!
Roz: Hey Martin, what's going on?
Martin: Oh, Niles bought me some new shoes!
Daphne: [mock approvingly] Oh yes, look! They have tassels!
Niles: [moving to hang up his coat] Aren't they exquisite? Those
shoes were individually hand-made by an artisan toiling in a
hilltop village above Florence. [moves towards the bar to
pour himself a drink] The man is a hero there. It's an event
when he completes a pair of shoes. They ring the cathedral
bell and the whole town celebrates.
Roz: There's a town that needs a bowling alley.
Frasier now enters through the front door.
Frasier: Evening all!
Niles: Hello!
Roz: Hey Frasier!
Frasier: Oh Roz, Roz! Did you hear the show today? I was at the top
of my form! I did a brilliant job of cutting a narcissist
down to size! [Niles brings him a drink] Ooh, thank you,
Niles. So... [distracted by Martin's footwear] ooh, Dad! New
shoes? do I hear cathedral bells?
Martin: Ring-a-ding-ding! [gets up and moves to the kitchen]
Frasier: Oh, Roz, I also wanted to apologise for leaving you last
night. Hope you didn't spend the whole evening fending off
Bulldog's advances.
Roz: Oh, no! Bulldog's not so bad! We actually had a good time!
Frasier: [laden with sexual innuendo] Oh?
Roz: What 'oh'?
Frasier: Well I couldn't help noticing he came in to work this
morning wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday.
Niles: [laden with double sexual innuendo] Oh??
Martin: [walking back to his chair] What's going on?
Niles: Roz slept with Bulldog last night.
Roz: I did not! How could you think that?
Frasier: Well, I mean... dropping by, bringing a little gift? It was
obvious he was after something!
Daphne: Well that's not fair! Dr. Crane's always dropping by and
bringing me little gifts and he's not after anything!
Niles looks decidely uncomfortable.
Roz: [indignantly] I did not sleep with Bulldog - he didn't even
hit on me. He did want something though - he wanted me to
leave you and come be his new producer.
Frasier: [skeptically] Oh, well! I wonder why he said that! [trades
knowing looks with Niles]
Roz: Because he really wants me!
Frasier: Yes well, I think that goes without saying.
Roz: For his show!
Frasier: Oh Roz, Bulldog knows the blunt approach won't work with
you, so he's being more subtle. But his ultimate goal
remains to... well, to...
Roz: [snappishly] To what?
Niles: To play Aeneas to your Dido. [pause] Sorry you had to hear
that, Daphne.
Daphne: Oh that's alright. As usual, I haven't the foggiest idea
what you're talking about.
Roz: You know, this is so insulting. You think Bulldog wants me
to come work for him because he wants to get me into his
bed. It doesn't even occur to you that he thinks I'm a good
producer.
Frasier: Roz, don't you think you're being just a tad naive?
Roz: I'll tell you what naive is. Naive is someone who thinks he
can stand there and talk to me like that without getting a
crutch up his butt! [to Daphne] Excuse me. [stands up
angrily] I've heard your expert advice! The only mental
disorder you've ever cured is insomnia!
Martin laughs, and Frasier gets extremely riled-up.
Frasier: Well, I'm surprised you had time to listen! What with being
so busy with your ultra-demanding producer tasks - answering
phones and pushing buttons! My God! A cockatoo with a strong
beak could do what you do!
Roz: Then hire one! Because I'm taking the job with Bulldog.
[picks up her crutches and starts hobbling...] That's it!
[... and hobbling...] I am outta here. [... and hobbling...]
Take a picture 'cos I'm not in your life. You have seen the
last of me! [finally reaches the door and says triumphantly]
Sayonara! [then she realises something...] Oh damn, my
purse!
Roz starts hobbling pitifully back to the couch on her crutches, with
everyone looking on. KACL: Frasier is in his booth, as per normal,
but he has a new producer in the form of Bruce.
Bruce: What's your favourite number?
Frasier: [tolerantly] Three.
Bruce punches a button. We hear a 'busy' dial tone.
Bruce: Damn. What's your other favourite number?
Frasier: [annoyed] Why don't you just let me handle this? Hello,
you're on the line with Frasier Crane. I'm listening.
Francesca: [voice-over] Hi, Dr. Crane. Um, my name is Francesca and
I'm calling about my boyfriend. Well, he says he loves me,
but I just can't get over this fear that I'm going to come
home one day and he's not going to be there. I don't
know. It probably stems from my problem when my father
left us.
Frasier: Oh Francesca, you are suffering from a fear of
abandonment. But trust me, I'm here for you.
Francesca: Thank you, Dr. Crane. I'm always so afraid that people I
count on will just disappear and I'll be left with...
Her voice is suddenly cut off, to be replaced by a disconnected dial
tone. Frasier stares at Bruce with truly ferocious venom in his gaze.
Bruce: Sorry!
Frasier: [slightly panicked] Francesca, please... We had a little
technical glitch there. But we were almost out of time
anyway. If you'll call in tomorrow, I'll make sure you're
the first order of business. Please call. Well, we're just
about wrapped up here, folks... I'll see you tomorrow,
Seattle.
Frasier removes his head phones, then walks into the producer's booth
slowly, menacingly.
Bruce: [cheerfully] Good show, Dr. Crane.
Frasier: You think so, Bruce?
Bruce: Yeah!
Frasier: Well, call me old-fashioned but when my show starts out with
a screeching noise that could shatter crystal, then moves on
to an open mike while I'm eating a bag of potato chips, then
disconnects two manic-depressives and a woman with a fear of
abandonment... I don't think it's a show we should be
mailing off to the Smithsonian!
Bruce: Don't worry, man - you'll do better tomorrow.
Bruce gives Frasier a comforting, condescending pat on the back and
leaves. Frasier is incensed. He begins to walk back into his booth
just as Bulldog wheels his usual equipment in, with Roz following
behind him with a clipboard.
Bulldog: Yeah, it's going to be a great show, Roz. I can feel it.
Roz: Yeah, I'm psyched. You've got about a minute to showtime.
Frasier: Hello, Roz.
Roz: Hello Frasier.
Bulldog: Hey, Doc! Long week no see. Hope you haven't been avoiding
me because I stole your chick.
Frasier: Oh, Bruce and I are getting along splendidly!
Roz: Yeah, I heard Bruce. What happened? The cockatoo want too
much money?
Frasier, unable to reply, smiles sardonically, and trades sarcastic g
goodbyes with Roz.
Frasier: Bye, Roz.
Roz: So long, Frasier.
He just closes the door behind him when who should he run into but
Gil Chesterton...
Gil: Oh, a moment, Frasier, please! I'm sure word has reached
your ear already about the Fruity Demarre Party I'm throwing
to celebrate our fair city's great bounty from the sea.
Frasier: Yes, yes. I'd love to come.
Gil: Aye, there's the rub! You see, I've already invited Roz.
With this rift between you two, well, the tension in the air
will be thicker than my torpedo!
Frasier: Well, Gil, I'm sure that rift will soon be over. Before
long, Bulldog will prove that all he's wanted all along is
just to get his hands on Roz. Ooh... in fact that moment may
have arrived. [peers eagerly into the booth to see Roz
bending down to pick up some papers she's dropped] Look,
she's bending over! Oh turn around, Bulldog!
Gil: Oh yes! Isn't that what golfers refer to as 'teeing it up'?
Frasier: [excitedly] Alright, he moves in... and he... [dejectedly]
...helps pick up the papers!
Gil: Oh, I'm so sorry, Frasier. I too entertained hopes for low
comedy.
The scene changes to show Bulldog starting his show.
Bulldog: Attention, sports fans! [blows a whistle and hints his gong]
You're back in the doghouse with Bulldog Briscoe! [barks
twice] Hrr hrr!
Roz: [meows like a cat] Meowr!
Bulldog: The stock football... Sunday's lot. Broncos over the
Raiders. Easy money, huh, Roz?
Roz: Yeah right! Men just want to cuddle. L.A. humiliated Denver
last month!
Bulldog: What, hey! Do I tell you how to cook and clean? Denver's
doo. It's a complete no-brainer.
Roz: Well then, it's right up your alley. [toots a horn at
Bulldog defiantly]
Gil: You know, I'm no sports fan - but they really are quite
delicious together.
Frasier: Well, enjoy it while you can. Bulldog can't keep his libido
in check forever.
Gil: Well of course you're right. Then Roz will come crawling
back to you.
Frasier: Yes. In the meantime, I have to find someone halfway
competent to produce my show. How hard could that be?
Frasier's question is answered by the short scene that follows - it
is a montage of all the candidates Frasier auditions for the job of P
Producer, and is set to the song, "They Call Me Mr. Pitiful [i'm not
sure of this]???". Frasier is seated in his booth in various stages o
of distress and disarray as the following people inhabit Roz's usual
dominion - an old lady who smokes so much Frasier can barely see her
through the fog; a lady who obviously has a fetish for cats, having
decorated the entire studio with pictures of cats and the control
panel with a real live cat; an EXTREMELY well-endowed blonde who is
greatly distracting when she bends over; an over-worked neurotic who
gets too stressed by all the calls coming in, and eventually throws
up his hands in despair; and finally, an old man who seems to have
fallen dead asleep in his chair. Frasier is suitably worried. He
removes his head phones and gets up, slinging his coat over his
shoulder. His shirt is untucked... something we don't often get to
see in a well-manicured man like Frasier.
Cafe Nervosa: Niles and Frasier are standing at the counter, having
coffee.
Niles: ...hacking his way through our prize topiary!
Frasier: Oh Niles, I've never understood why you wanted your hedges
to be sculpted into the shapes of animals.
Niles: Well, we're both animal lovers. But Maris is unable to have
pets. She... she distrusts anything that loves her
unconditionally. [pauses] Anyway, there was Yoshi, drunk as
a lord, swinging his hedge-trimmer recklessly over his head.
Before we could calm him, he had transformed Maris' prize
stallion into some sort of obscene... goat-boy. The poor
woman is inconsolable.
Frasier: Well, thank you, Niles. You've been a great deal of help.
There ARE worse things than seeing one's career go down the
toilet - I could have my hedges cut into unattractive
shapes!
Niles: It's always about you, isn't it?
Frasier: Well, I'm sorry! But I'm just the slightest bit panicky that
I'm never going to get Roz back! I've been waiting for weeks
for Bulldog to make his move, and against all natural laws,
he hasn't!
At this point, Daphne enters Cafe Nervosa, talking to Martin over her
shoulder.
Daphne: Come along! [seeing the two brothers] Oh! Hello! I thought
we might run into you two here.
Martin: Yeah! Daphne and I went out buying shoes. [to Niles] Oh, not
that I don't appreciate the ones that you bought me, but...
I thought I'd save those for special occasions, when only
tassels will do. Hey, get a load of these! [walks a few
steps off] They light up when I walk away!
Frasier: Doesn't everyone?
Daphne: Well, I see Mr. Congeniality here is still spreading
sunshine wherever he goes?
Niles: Apparently things didn't go very well on his show today.
Martin: Oh really! Well, you know these things go in cycles. I
mean... take Bulldog's show - he's just had one great show
after another lately.
Frasier: Hmmm... what could be your point, Dad? I'm having trouble
reading between the lines.
Martin: If you weren't so damn stubborn, you'd apologise to Roz, get
her back on the show, and everybody'd be happy!
Frasier: As usual, you're overlooking the key psychological component
in this whole issue.
Martin: You'd have to admit you were wrong!
Frasier: Exactly!
Daphne: I don't see what's so hard about telling Roz you were wrong!
Frasier: You don't understand! You see, it's not the same as Dad
being wrong, or your being wrong. I have a degree from
Harvard!! Whenever I'm wrong... the world makes a little
less sense.
Niles: Frankly, I don't understand why you want her back at all.
She's pushy and opinionated.
Frasier: Niles, don't you think you're being just the slightest bit
sexist? What's seen as 'pushy' in a woman is 'assertiveness'
in a man. Gone are the days when women were shunned to the
side to bat their eyelashes prettily and say nothing.
Daphne: I quite agree.
Frasier: [dismissively] Oh Daphne please, I can handle this.
Daphne: Well, you certainly handled it well enough so far! If you
ask me, it's time you get off your high horse, buy Roz some
flowers and beg her forgiveness. And don't be afraid to get
your knees a little dusty!
Frasier: Well... I'm sorry. I'm just not quite ready to swallow my
pride.
Frasier's most recent producer, the old man, now walks into the cafe.
Old Man: Next time, wake me when the show's over.
YOU CAN'T TEACH AN OLD BULLDOG NEW TRICKS
Roz's apartment: Bulldog is perched on her couch.
Roz: When we first started working together, I never thought it
would turn out like this! Did you? [she heads into the
kitchen]
Bulldog: Oh... uh...
He rips off his shirt without bothering with the buttons, and takes
off his jeans. He's now wearing only shorts.
Bulldog: Hey uh, Roz, you'd better make mine a double. I'm a double
kind of guy.
He has picked up a bag and is now taking out his 'equipment'. As she
speaks, he places a vase with a single red rose on the end table next
to Roz's bed, followed by a red candle.
Roz: Uh-uh! You're only going to get a little. There's a lot I
want to do tonight, and I want you to keep up with me.
Bulldog: Well uh... [he takes a long white feather out of his bag and
ponders where to put it for a while, then sticks it in his
shorts] All I ask is that you give me a couple of twenty
-minute breaks.
He takes out a boom box and starts to play some muzak.
Roz: What's that?
Bulldog: I uh... I thought a little music might be... might be nice.
He has a handful of rose petals which he begins to sprinkle liberally
around the room. He turns down the bed covers and throws more petals
down on the bed as he climbs over it back to his bag.
Roz: Can you concentrate with that on?
Bulldog: Oh yeah, yeah! Actually uh, I find uh... [he unscrews a
bottle of perfume and smears it across his bare chest] the
distraction helps me.
He takes a lighter - the kind one uses to ignite stoves - out and
then pulls out a pair of handcuffs. He studies them for a moment.
Bulldog: Naw... second date. Don't be pushy. [he drops the handcuffs]
This is great, Roz... us working like this.
He flicks on the lighter and lights the candle, then begins to heat
up the rose petals on the bed, both to create an atmosphere of warmth
as well as to make the roses' scent stronger.
Bulldog: Did you and the Doc ever end up working...
He accidentally sets the feather stuck in his shorts on fire, and he
rips it out, throws it to the ground and stomps on it.
Roz: What?
Bulldog: Did you and the Doc ever.. uh, end up working like this?
Roz: Oh yeah. We tried it once, but he complained I talked too
much.
Proud with his impromptu decoration of the place, he flops back onto
the bed, waiting for Roz.
Bulldog: Oh yeah? I would have figured you for a screamer.
Roz comes out of the kitchen at last, and lets forth a truly
delightful scream. She drops both the cups she was carrying.
Roz: What the hell are you doing in my bed? Get out! [she picks a
pillow up off the bed and starts thumping him with it] Get
out! I asked you here to WORK, you disgusting pervert!
Bulldog: [standing up, half on the bed, half on the floor] Hey hey
hey... you're going to have to slow down! I'm getting some
mixed signals here!
Roz throws the pillow down, rushes to the end table and blows out the
candle. She then switches off the boom box, and gathers Bulldog's
clothes up off the floor. She dashes over to the window and opens it.
Bulldog: What are you doing?!?
Roz: Is this clear enough for you? [she flings his clothes out
the window]
Bulldog: Hey are you crazy? My wallet's in there!
Roz: Get out! Now!
Yanking open the door, she does not see Frasier standing behind it,
obviously about to knock. He is holding a large bouquet of flowers -
obviously he has decided to come grovelling back. How fortuitous!
Bulldog: Get out of my way, Doc. [he exits]
Roz: Oh! [she covers her face with her hand in embarrassment and
despair]
Frasier: [with quiet triumph] I'm listening.
Credits:
We are back at KACL. The old man is fast asleep in the producer's
booth again, but this time he is producing Bulldog's show. Bulldog,
in his own booth, tries to get his attention - first by saying "Hey"
twice into the microphone, then tapping the mike with his drumstick.
When neither action works, he blows on his whistle... but that
doesn't work either. He hammers against the glass separator with his
drumstick. No reaction. Removing his head phones, he picks up a horn
and storms over to the producer's booth, and starts tooting the horn
into the man's ear. The man remains dead asleep. Finally, Bulldog
checks his pulse - it appears he *is* dead.
Legal Stuff
This episode capsule is copyright 1999 by Shawne Wang & Nick
Hartley. This episode summary remains property of Frasier, Copyright
of Paramount Productions and NBC. Printed without permission.
