We’ve just received another exclusive leak from our anonymous source who previously shared the first four pages of Kelsey Grammer’s blacklisted screenplay Frasier Crane with us. In the second scene of Grammer’s infamous lost screenplay, we get a peek into our Frasier’s current lifestyle and domestic issues. Plus, a familiar old flame reappears for a very physical encounter. But we won’t spoil it for you! Read for yourself:

5.

INT. FRASIER’S APARTMENT – NIGHT

We see Frasier in a tight close-up, tossing and turning in

bed, drenched in sweat, having a terrible nightmare. We hear

the gunshots, gradually growing louder. Frasier convulses

and whimpers in response to each gunshot sound, which come

faster and faster until the scene abruptly ends.

SMASH CUT TO:

INT. FRASIER’S APARTMENT – MORNING

Our hero resides in an unfinished basement with cinderblock

walls and load-bearing poles. It’s a dilapidated mess,

bearing no resemblance to the tasteful decor of his old

Seattle apartment. The concrete floor is littered with piles

of dirty clothes, empty liquor bottles, pizza boxes, and

other trash. Sunlight creeps in through a broken window,

which has been lazily patched up with cardboard. Frasier

grunts and wriggles about on his pull-out sofa bed. The

prostitute is dead asleep beside him, lying face-down and

snoring loudly. Frasier sits up and rubs his eyes, then

worms his way to the foot of the bed. Two lines of coke and

half of a plastic straw await him on the dirty glass coffee

table in front of him. He does one line through the half

straw, switches nostrils, and inhales the other one.

FRASIER

Aaaaaahhhhh!

He groans to himself as he clenches the bridge of his nose

and massages his forehead. The prostitute continues to

snore.

FRASIER

Hey! Wake up!

He gives her body a shake, but she doesn’t respond. He

shrugs, and hoists himself up onto his feet. Dressed in

boxers and a stained wifebeater, he ambles across the room

to investigate the flashing light from the answering

machine. He presses a button on the machine, and we hear the

voice of NILES.

NILES (O.S.)

Frasier, it’s Niles. I’m sorry you

couldn’t make it to Dad’s funeral.

It was a beautiful service, and we

all would have loved to have you

there.

Frasier grabs a bottle of aspirin from the dresser and

swallows a handful.

(CONTINUED)

6.

NILES (O.S.) (CONT’D)

Anyway, I’d… really like to talk

to you sometime, if I could…

Frasier presses another button on the machine, and the

message abruptly ends. He sniffs and scratches his nose as

he makes his way toward the fridge in the back corner of his

one-room residence. He opens the fridge, which is pretty

much empty except for a few cheap beers. He grabs a can and

pops it open, takes a sip, then directs his attention back

to the woman snoring on his couch bed.

FRASIER

I implore you to wake up and put an

end to this incessant noise!

Unacknowledged, he walks back over to the bed and leans in

real close to her. He sets his beer down on the coffee

table.

FRASIER

Cease this awful racket, I beg of

you!

He grabs her by the shoulders and vigorously shakes her,

which just barely gets her attention. She squirms and

mutters in response, still asleep but no longer snoring.

Frasier sighs and picks up his beer from the table.

Suddenly, there’s a loud knock at the door. Frasier hurries

to answer it, spilling beer on himself as he attempts to

drink and walk. The knocking continues.

FRASIER

Hold on a moment!

He unlocks the door, pulls it partway open, and sticks his

head out. He finds LILITH standing on his doorstep, looking

impatient.

LILITH

Hello, Frasier.

Lilith has seen better days. She looks gaunt, sickly, and

somehow even paler than before. She wears a loose black

sweatshirt and black leggings and hides her eyes behind

large, black sunglasses. Her words are punctuated by facial

jitters.

FRASIER

If it’s money you’re after, you can

forget it. There’s none here.

(CONTINUED)

7.

Frasier doesn’t look so great either, his unwashed hair in

disarray. He sniffles and casually wipes the beer droplets

off of his beard, then has another sip. Lilith takes a deep

breath, trying hard to maintain her composure.

LILITH

Now, Frasier, I know perfectly well

that you’ve been receiving payments

from Niles, and per the terms of

our most recent separation

agreement, I’m entitled to my share

of that income.

FRASIER

What? Payments from Niles? Don’t be

ridiculous, I haven’t spoken to him

in years.

Frasier starts to sip his beer again, but the sip is cut

short when Lilith shoves the door open, causing him to

stumble back and spill more beer all over his dirty

wifebeater. Lilith angrily charges in after him.

LILITH

Don’t give me that bullshit,

Frasier! Don’t take me for a fool,

you lying fuck!

FRASIER

Damn you, contemptible woman, will

you lower your voice?

He takes a seat on the coffee table, sets his can back down,

and starts to rub his temples. Lilith takes notice of the

coke accessories and the half-asleep hooker, and sneers. She

doesn’t lower her voice.

LILITH

Oh, and perhaps you’d like to

explain how you managed to fund

this little social gathering of

yours with no money?

FRASIER

For god’s sake, Lilith, even if I

did have money, how could I share

it with you in good conscience? We

both know that that money would go

straight into your veins!

LILITH

Excuse me?

(CONTINUED)

8.

The prostitute is wide awake now, and she’s begun quietly

collecting her things.

FRASIER

I’ve been enabling you for far too

long, and continuing to do so would

be grossly irresponsible. Does the

Hippocratic Oath mean nothing to

you?

LILITH

You sanctimonious piece of shit!

What the hell gives you the right

to criticize me? I suppose you’re

going to tell me that this cocaine

habit of yours is perfectly healthy

because Freud said so?

Frasier bolts up and thrusts a scolding finger in Lilith’s

direction.

FRASIER

Don’t you bring Freud into this,

you loathsome shrew!

The prostitute leaves in a hurry, not bothering to shut the

door behind her.

LILITH

Frasier, put your hand down.

FRASIER

Or what?

LILITH

Frasier. Get your filthy fucking

finger out of my face.

FRASIER

Or what?

In a quick succession of movements, she shoves his hand away

with one hand and smacks his face with the other. Frasier,

looking shocked and offended, responds with a light shove.

FRASIER

Control yourself, Lilith!

But it’s too late for words; Lilith is pissed. She unleashes

a barrage of slaps, which he attempts to stifle by grabbing

her wrists, but she manages to wriggle her right hand free

and dig her nails into his forearm, loosening his grip on

her left wrist. With her free left hand, she grabs a handful

(CONTINUED)

9.

of his hair and pulls on it hard, causing him to cry out in

pain.

FRASIER

Ow! Goddamn you!

LILITH

Fuck you!

They wrestle each other to the floor and roll around

together, knocking over bottles and cans and fast food

containers all around them. Frasier tries to wrap his arms

around Lilith and restrain her, but she claws and scratches

at him, keeping him from getting a grip.

FRASIER

Unhand me, woman!

He pushes on her face, and she shakes her head from side to

side, trying to break free. Her sunglasses fly off of her

face, exposing her weary eyes. They tumble around for a

little while longer, until Frasier finds herself on top of

her, pinning her down, and they momentarily lock eyes.

They’re both tired, breathing heavily, hearts pounding,

their faces nearly pressed together. For a moment, it looks

like they might kiss. But instead, Frasier rolls off to her

side and sits up on the floor, catching his breath. The

coffee table is in reach now, so he takes his beer, finishes

it, and tosses the can aside. Then he picks up a pack of

cigarettes from the table, removes two, and hands one to

Lilith, who sits up to receive it. He locates a lighter,

lights Lilith’s cigarette first, then his own. They remain

silent for a few beats as they sit on the floor and smoke.

Finally, Frasier stands up, notices that the front door is

still open, walks over and shuts it.

FRASIER

Fifty dollars. It’s all I have

left.

He’s still a little winded. He bends down to pick up

Lilith’s sunglasses, and hands them to her. She puts the

glasses back on, then leans forward and wraps one arm around

her legs, suddenly looking vulnerable. Frasier walks over to

the dresser, facing away from her as he speaks.

FRASIER

Honestly, it’s all I have.

He pulls the top drawer open, and digs out a few wrinkly

bills. He turns around and sticks his left arm out,

extending the cash in her direction, still standing a few

feet away from her, not looking directly at her face.

(CONTINUED)

10.

FRASIER

But this is the last time. The very

last time. I do not want to see you

here ever again. Is that

understood?

Still silent, stifling tears, Lilith takes a long drag of

her cigarette. Frasier takes a step closer to her. His voice

is beginning to waver.

FRASIER

Here you are. Go ahead, take it.

Off you go!

She stands up, sets her half-smoked cigarette down on the

table, and then approaches Frasier, who’s still holding his

arm out, clutching the wad of bills, avoiding eye contact.

LILITH

(choking back tears)

Frasier, I-

FRASIER

Just take it. Take the money and

get out of here.

She glares at him for a brief moment, then snatches the

money, turns, and storms out of the apartment, slamming the

door behind her. Frasier continues to stand there for a

moment, cigarette dangling from his lips. He turns back to

the open dresser drawer, and pushes aside some socks and

other junk to reveal a small, silver .22 caliber revolver.

He picks it up and turns it slightly from side to side,

feeling its weight, then holds it up to the side of his

face. Feeling the cold metal of the cylinder against his

cheek, he shuts his eyes tight and breathes deeply through

his nose a few times. Then he opens his eyes and holds the

gun in front of his face, carefully examining it. Suddenly,

he sneezes, launching his cigarette onto the floor.

FRASIER

Oh, dear god!

He angrily stamps the cigarette out with his bare foot, then

turns his attention back to the sock drawer and rummages

around some more, using the gun like a rake. He collects all

the remaining cash he can find–a ten, a few fives, and a

bunch of singles–then walks back over to the bed and sits

down. He notices Lilith’s cigarette resting on the coffee

table, still lit, so he grabs it and takes a drag. He looks

around at his filthy apartment, at his shattered life. He

sighs, puffs his cigarette, and contemplates the gun in his

hand.

***

Pretty chilling stuff, huh? Wondering what happens next? I know I’m on the edge of my seat! Will we ever learn what becomes of Dr. Frasier Crane? Only time will tell.