Venus Envy
Frasier's condo. Marty is on his exercise mat. Daphne is bending and stretching his leg. Frasier is on the couch reading. Eddie is asleep in Marty's chair.
MARTY: (wincing with pain) Jesus, Daph! That really hurts!
DAPHNE: (unsympathetically) I'm sure it does. I hate to repeat me-self, but this would be so much easier for you and me if you spent more time exercising and less on your bum watching telly.
As Marty's exercise wraps up, Frasier's mobile phone rings.
FRASIER: (picking up his phone) Hello? Oh, hi, Niles. (listening to Niles on the other end) Yes, of course you may come over. (a beat) Sure, anytime. (a beat) You're welcome.
Frasier hangs up his phone, stands up and walks to the front door. When he opens the door, Niles is at the door with his hand raised to knock on the door.
FRAISER: (teasingly) That was quick, Niles.
NILES: (sheepishly) As I said, I was in the neighborhood.
As Frasier ushers Niles in and the brothers exchange pleasantries and admire the bottle of champagne Niles produces at the counter, Daphne and Marty converse.
DAPHNE: How does he do that?
MARTY: Huh?
DAPHNE: Dr. Crane knew his brother called right outside and opened the door before the other Dr. Crane knocked.
MARTY: I guess some siblings can communicate without saying a word. You grew up with a bunch of brothers, so you know how these things work, don't you?
DAPHNE: I do have many brothers, but their way of communication is tackling and beating up each other.
MARTY: They fight a lot?
DAPHNE: That's how they make up after a fight.
MARTY: Are they into sports?
DAPHNE: Mostly as spectators. They're too lazy to participate in organized sports. And they prefer going to their pub to practicing for a game of any sport. Me brothers don't have refined taste like your sons—they just guzzle ales and lagers and watch and yell at rugby and football players on telly instead of sipping champagne at an art gallery.
MARTY: (defensively) Hey, you speak as if it was a bad thing.
DAPHNE: (teasingly) I always thought there was something familiar about you, Mr. Crane.
Frasier and Niles emerge from the kitchen carrying glasses of champagne in both hands; Frasier gives one to Marty, Niles hands one to Daphne. Marty shoos Eddie off his recliner and sits down.
FRASIER: Niles brought us a treat everybody can appreciate. Even you might enjoy this, Dad. It's Dom Perignon.
MARTY: Good stuff, huh?
FRASIER: That, and very expensive.
Sitting on the couch, Niles takes out a carrying case for a small teaspoon from his pocket, takes out the spoon and taps his champagne glass a few times with it.
NILES: Everyone! I have an announcement to make. (seeing that he got everyone's attention) I…
Niles notices a spot or two on the spoon. He takes out a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket and starts polishing the spoon fussily.
FRASIER: (sharply) Niles!
NILES: (looking up) Hmm?
FRASIER: (pointedly) Your announcement?
NILES: Oh, oh, oh! Yes, my announcement! I hope you'll be as thrilled as I am when you hear the news. Dad, Frasier, Daphne, (a beat) I am now on the Symphony Board!
MARTY: (raising his glass) Hey, way to go, Niles!
DAPHNE: Congratulations, Dr. Crane.
FRASIER: So, who resigned or died?
NILES: (putting the teaspoon back in the case and the handkerchief in the pocket) Well, actually, my appointment is not official yet, but Richard McMillan was asked by his company to relocate in Hong Kong for a few years to run a small outfit the corporation is taking over.
MARTY: And the board picked you to replace this Richard guy?
NILES: No. Not exactly.
FRASIER: Then how did you manage to become a board member?
NILES: The board selected, of all people, Jeffrey Goldstein as Richard's replacement, but he was forced to decline the offer after an anonymous letter sent to the board revealed a skeleton in his closet.
FRASIER: (probingly) You don't have anything to do with this anonymous letter, do you, Niles?
NILES: (deadpan) Absolutely not.
Niles snuffles and places his index finger under his nose.
DAPHNE: (gasps) Oh, dear! Have you got a nosebleed, Dr. Crane?
Frasier looks at Niles accusingly with an arched eyebrow.
NILES: (dabbing his nose with a handkerchief) All right, all right! I did send an anonymous letter, but the board largely ignored it.
FRASIER: That's hard to believe, Niles. You just told us the board rescinded its decision based on the information in the letter.
NILES: But it's true—the only dirt on Jeffrey I could dig up was a couple of unpaid parking tickets. I didn't know anything about his affair with the concertmaster until someone else sent another letter anonymously.
MARTY: (shaking his head) Ya know, I really don't see why you're so eager to be a board member of anything. Besides rubbing elbows with the hoity-toity, backstabbing crowd, what's so great about being on the board?
NILES: Are you kidding? The board influences the selection of the symphony musicians as well as the conductors and the guest performers. Together, we mold and reshape the symphony's artistic trend and its future!
FRASIER: (to Marty) It's a power trip, Dad.
DAPHNE: (to Niles) It must be a thirsty business, becoming one of the movers and shakers. Your glass is empty, Dr. Crane. Would you like another glass of bubbly?
NILES: (gushing) You are always so considerate and observant, Daphne. Yes, I'd like another glass, please.
Daphne receives Niles' champagne glass and is about to head for the kitchen when Frasier speaks up.
FRASIER: Oh, Daphne. Since you're going to the kitchen, do you mind fixing us some hors d'oeuvres? Something simple like cheese and fruit would be fine.
Resenting to be treated like a housekeeper, Daphne gives Frasier the evil eye.
DAPHNE: (crossly) No, of course I don't mind.
Daphne goes to the kitchen.
NILES: One of the perks of becoming a board member is that you get a sneak peek at who may be coming to perform with the Symphony. When I spoke with Samantha Deaver, she mentioned some names, which might pique your interest, Frasier. For instance, (reading some names off a piece of paper, which he takes out of his breast pocket) Itzhak Perleman…
FRASIER: (cutting in) Big gun, big expenses.
NILES: …Martha Argerich…
FRASIER: (cutting in again, wincing) Oooh, Queen of Cancellation. Good luck.
NILES: …Peter Schickele…
FRASIER: (cutting in yet again) I hope the entire concert will not be centered on that P.D.Q. Bach material of his.
NILES: (getting a little annoyed) …Joshua Bell…
Niles, anticipating Frasier to butt in, pauses. Frasier starts to say something but closes his mouth to think for a moment.
FRASIER: You know, I'd love to see him perform. I still remember his Carnegie debut. He was a teenage boy back then, but his music sounded so mature.
NILES: (encouraged by Frasier's first positive comment) Yes! As our Yoshi might say, "Sendan wa futaba yori kanbashi."
MARTY: (frowning) Send-what?
FRASIER: It's Japanese, Dad.
MARTY: (sarcastically) Gee, thanks. I never woulda guessed.
NILES: It means that sandalwood is fragrant even as a seedling.
MARTY: (flustered) Would it kill you to speak in plain English every once in a while?
FRASIER: It's the Japanese way of saying that a tremendously talented person exhibits signs of his genius at a very young age.
NILES: Yes indeed! Joshua Bell certainly is an accomplished violinist although he's still very much a young man after all these years.
Daphne comes back from the kitchen with a tray laden with a glass of champagne, assorted cold cuts, fruit. She perks up when she hears the name of Joshua Bell.
DAPHNE: (putting down the tray on the coffee table) (excitedly) Did you say Joshua Bell? Are you and your friends on the board inviting him to Seattle?
NILES: At this point, we are just making inquiries to see if he and other musicians will be available for our next season and beyond. I didn't know you like classical music, Daphne.
DAPHNE: Well, I don't particularly.
NILES: But you listen to Joshua Bell?
DAPHNE: No, not really.
Daphne sees a quizzical look on Niles' face and elaborates while rolling up the exercise mat.
DAPHNE: (dreamily) Several months ago, I was in a music store looking for some new CDs. When I looked up, there it was—a poster of Joshua Bell on the wall. He, in a black shirt, playing his fiddle, strands of hair clinging onto his sweaty brow. He looked pensive and in rapture at the same time, just lost in his music…
NILES: (curious to hear the rest of the story) And?
DAPHNE: He looked so beautiful and enchanting I had to buy his CD though I had no idea what sort of music he played.
NILES: But you said you don't listen to his music.
DAPHNE: Well, I intend to, but every time I pick up the CD to open the cellophane wrapper, I get lost in his photo on the cover…
Daphne sighs and cradles the rolled-up exercising mat lovingly in her arms as if it were someone dear and takes it to her own room as Frasier and Marty watch her leave with their mouths agape. Niles is seen crossing out a certain name on the list of prospective guest performers furiously and emphatically.
FRASIER: Well, Niles. You may not be officially on the board, but this is definitely a cause for celebration. I've heard a lot of good reviews on that new Thai-Indian-Greek fusion restaurant on Mercer. How about dining there tonight, all of us?
NILES: Hmm, that's tempting, but I have another engagement, sorry to say. Samantha invited me for a drink with her and a few other board directors at her place. Maybe some other time.
FRASIER: (disappointed) Oh, all right. (to Marty) How about you, Dad? I'll make a reservation if you're game.
MARTY: Sorry, son. I'm meeting with the boys at Duke's this evening around… (looking at his wrist watch) Oh, I gotta get going now.
Marty stands up and grabs his jacket.
NILES: Wait, Dad. I must be going too. (to Frasier) Good night, Frasier.
MARTY: Night, Fras.
Marty and Niles depart together leaving Frasier alone in the living room. Daphne returns to the living room carrying a purse.
FRASIER: Daphne, are you leaving too?
DAPHNE: Yes, Dr. Crane. I told you I'm going to have dinner with my friends tonight.
FRASIER: Oh, yes, of course. Well, have a wonderful time.
DAPHNE: Thank you, Dr. Crane. Good-bye.
Daphne leaves. Frasier sits down on the couch where Eddie lies.
FRASIER: (patting Eddie) Well, it's just you and me tonight, Eddie. What shall I cook for supper? I'll have something simple like Dover Sole Meuniere with crisp white wine. As for you, how about kibbles with diced turkey breast and gravy topping? What do you say, little buddy?
Eddie jumps off the couch and trots to Marty's bedroom leaving Frasier all by himself.