'They Say Dogs Are Man's Best Friend…'
The room seemed as it usually was at around five PM on a Monday night. Martin was sitting in his decrepit old reclining chair with his faithful and intelligent Jack-Russell Terrier, 'Eddie' prone on his lap; Martin eagerly awaiting the start of the Monday Night Football, and Eddie awaiting the snack-food droppings that were associated with Football. Daphne was twittering to herself in the kitchen and there were torrents of Seattle rain pounding the balcony outside of Frasier's apartment. "Dear godDaphne!" exclaimed Frasier, "My Bavarian lounging framework will go frightfully rusty in this deplorable weather". Martin impatiently and disappointedly interjected over the rattling of pans, "He means that crappy metal chair out there that he spent two thousand bucks on." Martin rolled his eyes disapprovingly as he did not share his son's appreciation for antiques.
All that Martin ever wanted was for his sons to play baseball and be like normal kids, not ever so slightly pretentious, Harvard-graduated psychiatrists. Daphne spoke in the reassuring nature that made her character so charming and magnetic"I'm sure it will be fine Doctor Crane, a bit of water never hurt anybody: well, apart from those children my Grammy Moon used to tell us about, they had dirty brown hair and needed a right good meal…"
Frasier's attention shifted from his rain-drenched chair as Daphne slipped into her typical digression about her life in Manchester. The more Frasier discovered of the stories of 'Grammy Moon' the more Frasier was deterred from meeting Daphne's notorious family and the afore mentioned Grammy Moon who was so often at the for-front of Daphne's incessant rambling.
As she spoke, the doorbell rang and Frasier, far too concerned with the well-being of his balcony chair seemed ignorant of the chime. Martin sighed, shoed Eddie off his knee and as he hobbled over to the door, he caught his walking stick on the coffee table and knocked over his can of beer. Uncharacteristically, Frasier remained silent, oblivious to the potential beer stain on his three hundred dollar rosewood coffee table, and continued to pine over his water drenched antique chair.
As the door opened, a messy, scratched and agitated Niles flung his briefcase and coat upon the floor and clutched desperately at his long, black umbrella. "What's the matter son?"enquired a perplexed Martin. Niles responded spluttering with anger, "Some moron some fool, some Yale educated nit-wit moved the foam Luciano Pavarotti I had hanging in the garage a foot from the back wall and I parked my brand new Mercedes too close to the wall in parking allotment 7G!" He shuddered with frustration, took another deep breath and ranted, "I had to exit my vehicle via the sunroof! The indignity of it was unbearable!" "I actually had to stand on the Italian leather interior, I've never felt so emasculated in my entire life!"
Frasier turned around smirking and remarked, "Were you ever anything but emasculated dear Niles?"
Martin, (a little bemused by the meaning of emasculated), looked sheepishly at Niles and expressed his sympathy, "I'm so sorry son, erm, but you can get it fixed though, right?"
Eddie dashed from Martin's feet to behind an African war-mask (another of Frasier's many antiquities) and returned to Niles with a disfigured and one might say 'in better shape than before' facsimile of the Italian Tenor. Eddie dropped it at the pristine and shiny feet of Niles and returned to the safety of Martin's ankles.
Niles went as pale as mist and roared "Luciano!" with such vigour that it distracted the mourning Frasier who was still looking longingly at his balcony chair.
"You!" exclaimed Niles pointing a bony, accusational finger at Eddie. "You foul beast, you wicked animal you" Martin, wishing to protect Eddie stepped in and uttered, "C'mon Niles, he only wanted to play, he loves to chase things, especially fat, bearded…"
Realising his justification was futile, Martin sighed, "He thought it was a ball Niles."
Niles, infuriated seized the mutilated model, flounced his way to the balcony door, opened it with a sharp pull and thrust it outside into the driving rain. The figure disappeared over the edge of the apartment block.
Niles invited Eddie to retrieve the ball, "Go fetch evil canine!" Eddie began to sprint much to Martin's dismay, "No Eddie! Stay! Stay!" Eddie ground to a halt on the balcony. The rain dripped off his already wet nose as he proceeded to cock his leg on Frasier's chair and then trot back onto the white carpet shaking contentedly.
Frasier cried in anguish, "Nooooo! Not my Bavarian lounging framework!" Daphne chuckled to herself as she announced the completion of the evening meal and a disgruntled Niles, a mortified Frasier and a relieved Martin sat down at the glass dining table as Eddie curled up beside Niles, who was staring daggers (hand-crafted, no-doubt) at him.