Frasier and Niles Tell Their Dad to Stay Home

INT. FRASIER’S APARTMENT

Frasier is on the phone.

FRASIER: Hello? Café Nervosa? Yes, I’d like a contactless delivery of two lattes and a dozen of your finest biscotti, please. (pause) Oh my, that’s devastating news. Thank you.

Frasier hangs up and turns to Niles, who is meticulously rubbing his hands with Purell.

FRASIER: They’re out of biscotti.

NILES: The world really is ending.

We see Niles cleaning a doorknob with a pocket square, then take out a Clorox wipe to clean the pocket square.

FRASIER: In these unprecedented times, perhaps I could use my celebrity to help the good people of Seattle. I should do an Instagram Live!

NILES: Haven’t the people of Seattle suffered enough?

Marty Crane walks through the front door, carrying a six-pack of Ballantine.

NILES/FRASIER: Dad! Not again!

MARTY: Oh, the hell with all the paranoia. I survived the Korean War and going to the opera with you two; I can deal with a tiny, deadly pathogen. The problem with you boys is that you’ve never experienced any hardship — like being a police officer or being exposed to a potentially lethal virus that’s devastating immune systems and pushing the world’s economies and hospitals to the brink. You’re such crybabies!

NILES: Dad, just so you know, Frasier’s the one who’s mad at you. I only care about your well-being. I’m sorry, can you stand still for a second?

Niles starts spraying his dad with Lysol.

FRASIER: Dad, people in your age group are the most vulnerable. You really ought to stay home instead of putting yourself and others at risk. I’ll even walk Eddie for you. I mean, I’ll get Daphne to walk Eddie for you — as soon as she returns from the crowded supermarket where I told her to fetch tonight’s dinner of chateaubriand.

NILES: I should’ve gone with her. But Maris was having trouble putting on her latex gloves. They kept falling off her petite hands, the poor thing. Do they make gloves for people with hands the size of pita chips?

MARTY: That’s it, I’m going to Duke’s.

FRASIER: Duke’s?! What kind of safety measures do they have?

MARTY: Same as always. He keeps a .32 under the counter.

FRASIER: Oh, dear god.

MARTY: You’re stopping me from living my life! Next thing you know, you’re gonna tell me I can’t eat from the buffet at a steakhouse or go on a cruise!

FRASIER: Dad, even Roz is concerned about you going out.

NILES: And that’s coming from someone whose idea of social distancing is to go home after her one-night stand.

Niles laughs at his joke, which turns to a cough. He immediately Lysols his mouth.

FRASIER: The problem is we all have cabin fever. How about we ride this out in an actual cabin?

NILES: I know just the chauffeur who can drive us there! (Texts) No, he’s unavailable. Don’t worry, I have a second preferred chauffeur. (Texts) No, he’s out too.

FRASIER: Do you have a third preferred chauffeur?

NILES: Please, Frasier. I’d rather die than have Stephens drive me.

FRASIER: Oh, for god’s sake, Niles, now’s not the time to be a snob! And where the hell is Daphne? I hope she doesn’t get the bad olive oil this time!

MARTY: I’ve had enough of you two. I’m going to my room to quarantine with Eddie. He’s better company.

NILES/FRASIER: Huzzah! We’re good sons!

NILES: I suppose I should go check on Daphne.

FRASIER: But how will you protect yourself?

NILES: I have just the thing.

- - -

Niles enters the living room, decked out in his fencing uniform, mask, and épée.

NILES (garbled): I’m going to rescue you, my darling Daphne!

Niles spends the next twenty minutes trying to open the door using his épée.