It was Saturday. Frasier was grateful for that because he didn't have to watch the clock or worry about work today.
At least that was something he could be grateful for on such a dark and melancholic day. The elevator doors opened and he limped to the door labeled 1901. Opening the door, he found his father sitting in his weathered lazy-boy.
Martin's mouth dropped open at the sight of Frasier. "What the hell happened to you?"
Frasier took in some air. "Where shall I begin?"
"Start with the black eye and work your way down," Martin suggested.
Frasier removed his wet jacket to his suit, opened the bathroom door, just dropped it inside and closed the door behind it.
"Well, are you going to tell me what the hell's going on?"
"I went over to Niles' house and sat down with Marta for a nice little chat when Maris came home. Let me just say that she was less than delighted to see me."
"She punched you in the eye?!"
"Oh no, that was when I ran into the door when trying to flee after she announces she was going to get her shotgun."
"Shotgun?! Oh my God. And why are you all wet? It's not raining today."
"Well, let me say that Marta was very cordial. She made us some tea and just as we started a conversation, Maris came home and started screaming. She ordered Marta to hold me down while she fetched the large umbrella to beat me with. That's when the stitching of my blazer gave way. I tried to reason with Maris and then she started beating me with that damn umbrella. When she realized that her attack wasn't affecting me due to her lack of strength, she ordered Marta to spray me with the spritzer water. Then Maris announced she was going to get her shotgun and I ran into the door, catching my jacket cuff on the table along the way and ripping it all-that-more."
"Are you alright? I saw you limping on the way in."
Frasier collapsed on his Coco Chanel couch. "Oh yes, that was Maris' effort to run me over with her car before I could get to my car. She ran over my foot."
"What would make her act so crazy?"
"I don't know and at this moment, I don't care. All I want to do is rest."
Martin hopped up. "Well, let me get you some ice and something for that eye. We need to get to the bottom of this though. Daphne's acting weird."
"Weird, how so?"
"She's treating me like a stranger."
"That's a bit strange."
"Yes, but not as strange as my son being beaten up by a sixty pound woman."
"Very funny Dad," Frasier said in frustration.
Martin returned with a zip-lock full of ice cubes and a steak.
Frasier second glanced the meat. "Filet mignon! You expect me to use my filet mignon for my black eye."
"You want to argue about this?"
"No." Frasier leaned back, placing the ice against his right hip and the steak over his black eye. "I have a twenty-two-dollar-a-pound black eye."
"Well, Eddie is due for his walk, so can I get you anything else before I leave?"
"Oh God, a sherry would be nice."
Martin went over to pour it.
"And I would appreciate it if you would bring the bottle as well."
Martin set him up with all of his needs and wants before putting Eddie on his leash and heading out.
Frasier drank his first glass of sherry like a shot and was pouring another when his house phone rang. "Oh dear Lord." He carefully got up and made his way over to answer it. "Hello?"
"Frasier."
"Niles! Where are you?"
"I'm at a bar licking my wounds."
"Licking your wounds?"
"Could you meet with me to talk, if it's not too much trouble?"
"Trouble? Niles, I've been trying to reach you since last night."
"We have much to discuss. You sure you don't mind?"
"Mind? After what I have gone through to try to find you… No, I don't mind at all."
"After all you've gone through?"
"Niles, I just came from your house where Maris, as a last ditch effort to torture me before getting out of your house, had Marta assist her in giving me a 'wedgie'."