"Yes, finally!" Roz cried out, running out of the Winnebago and seeing Springfield for the first time.

"Ugh, a power plant," Niles gagged, pressing his handkerchief against his mouth. "My allergies are going to be through the roof this week."

"You'll be fine," Frasier said.

"There's a hotel," said Daphne, pointing at Woosterfield Hotel.

"That place looks way too fancy," Martin commented. "Isn't there somewhere else to sleep tonight?"

"You forget to who you're talking, Dad," Frasier said. "Fancy is what Niles and I do best."

"Well," Niles said, his eyes on Daphne, "among other things."

"That's disgusting!" Martin gasped. "To think my own son would make such repulsive remarks!"

"Can we just get on, please?" Frasier asked, emphasizing the e's in 'please.'

"Let's just go to that hotel," Roz said, hopping back into the Winnebago and dragging out the luggage.

"Let me give you a hand with that," Frasier said, helping her pull them out to the ground.

"Thanks," she panted, putting her hair up into a ponytail. "Let's go."

Frasier picked up his and Martin's luggage, while Daphne, Roz, and Niles busied themselves with their own.

"Hello," Frasier said at the front desk, his arm resting on the counter.

"May I 'elp you?" A man with a thick French accent asked.

"We would like to check in."

"Do you 'ave a reservation?"

"No. We just came in the neighborhood," Frasier said, pointing to the Winnebago parked outside.

"Well, I will see if I we 'ave any room. 'Ow many? Ooh, I am sorry, sir," he said, glancing over the counter to see Eddie tucked under Martin's arm. He had forgotten to put him in the bag. "We do not allow dogs in our 'otel."

"Aw, damn it," Martin muttered. "Sorry, guys."

"The Sleep-Eazy-Motel takes dogs," the man said with a nasty smile.

"Motel?" Frasier repeated. "No, no, no! Is there any other hotel we can go to?"

"I am afraid the Springfield Plaza does not take dogs either. And it is the only other 'otel."

"Damn it!" Frasier cursed. "Alright, alright! We have no choice but to go to this motel." He shuddered.

"Frasier, say it isn't so!" Niles cried, grabbing his brother's shoulders. "I won't be able to get any decent privacy with Daphne in a motel!"

"We'll just have to grit out teeth," Martin said casually. "I have no problem with it."

"Me neither," said Roz, stooping down to retrieve her bag and leave.

"Well, of course you have no problem with it," Niles hissed. "Your dates probably take you to motels all the time!"
Roz gaped at him and dropped her bag. "I'm sorry, Daphne, but I have to do this." She raised her fist and punched Niles's shoulder.

"Ow! What is the matter with you?"

"I barely touched you."

"It hurt."

"Oh, poor Niles. Would a kiss make the booboo better?" Daphne asked in a baby voice.

"Yes," Niles said at once.

Daphne giggled, kissing his shoulder. "Better?"


"Excuse me," the man said, raising his hands high above his head. "I must ask you to leave."

"Apologies," Martin said. "Come on, guys. Let's go find that motel."

Niles and Frasier groaned at the same time at those dreadful words.

Frasier's and Niles's face were white when they came up to the motel. The plaster was crumbling from the walls, and some people were hanging out outside, smoking. Frasier was considering turning around and getting a hotel in some other city, but Martin saw that glint in his eyes and ordered him to stop.

"Dad, you can't possibly expect us to stay here," he whined, pointing his finger at the motel. "Look at that sign!"

Some of the letters in the sign were out, and it read "Sleazy Motel" rather than "Sleep-Eazy-Motel."

"It's fine," Martin said. "Come on, let's go check in."

"No, no, no!" Niles shouted, his hands in fists. "Please, don't make me!"

"You'll be fine," Martin said again.

He got of the Winnebago and went to the front desk. Niles and Frasier were clinging to each other, disgust clear on their faces.

"Hey, we'd like to check in," Martin said, smiling at the man behind the counter who contrasted greatly with the man at the other hotel. He was wearing a dirty, baggy t-shirt, and his hair was disheveled whereas the French man had nice sleek black hair, a handsome mustache, and wore a divine suit.

"How many rooms?" He asked. He had a strong cockney accent, not too much unlike Daphne's when she first came to America.

"He reminds of me of me brother, Simon," Daphne whispered to Frasier, Roz, and Niles.

"Yes, I can definitely smell the whiskey," Niles replied, nose scrunching up at the stench.

"We're all set," Martin announced. "You and I are sharing a room, Frasier. Daphne, Niles, and Roz are going in the other."

"Great," Frasier said with so much sarcasm it was impossible not to detect it.

"No need for that," his father scolded. "It's better than sleeping in the streets."

"I doubt that," Niles huffed. "We could've slept under the benches in front of that xlassy hotel."

"Stop your complaining!" Martin snapped, leading them to their rooms.

Niles took positively frightened to stick the door key in the slot and open the door. He tried, but his hand was shaking so fiercely that he kept dropping the key. In the end, Roz snatched the key from his trembling hands and did it for him.

"Wasn't so bad, now was it?" She asked hotly, throwing her purse on the bed on the right.

"Oh, dear," Niles whispered.

"It isn't very attractive," Daphne agreed.

The sheets were messed up, there were questionable stains on the floor, and the occasional cockroach would peek out from its hole in the wall, scurry in, and take whatever crumbs may be lingering.

"I can't stay in here," Niles said. "Frasier!"

"I know, I know!" Frasier shrieked back.

"It's not that bad!" Martin hollered.

"Oh, really?" Niles asked vehemently. "There are prostitutes hanging outside underneath the window."

"I have to agree," Roz said, looking outside. "I don't want to be any place where whores hang around. Shut up, Niles!" She snapped as he opened his mouth.

"Eh, let them have their fun," Martin said.

"What?" Frasier asked. "You're an ex cop, Dad."

"Fine, if you guys want to leave, we'll leave. But where are we going to go? No other place with take Eddie."

"We'll find someplace," Frasier said. "Hell, I'll even take sleeping in the Winnebago instead of this!"

"Perhaps one night in the Winnebago, and then we'll find someplace else," Daphne suggested.

"Capital idea, Daphne!" Niles cheered, pecking her cheek. "What say you, Frasier?"

"It seems to be the only choice we have," Frasier said. "Let's get out of here."

Frasier had never bolted out of a place faster than this. He quickly paid the bill, unsurprised that the man didn't ask why he wasn't staying; he was sure people left as quickly as they came once they saw the rooms.

"I guess the best thing to do now is drive around," Frasier said once everyone was in.

"You know, Daphne," said Niles, getting out a piece of blank paper and a pen and slamming down it against the table. "We should plan a wedding."

"What, now?" She asked.

"I understand it's a bit early, but I like to get things out of the way."

"So the wedding is a hassle?"

"No, not at all! I'm just really excited about it, and I want to get started right away." His blue eyes told the truth, so Daphne got out another pen and piece of paper. "So, what time of the month would you like it?"

"I've always fancied a spring wedding," she said.

"I'm glad you said that. Because you are my spring, Daphne. It's only fitting we get married in that season." He scribbled it down on his paper. "Food?"

"I was thinking a buffet."

"A buffet?" Frasier laughed. "That's not very classy, is it?"

"Though I do quite agree with you, Frasier," Niles said, "I will agree on Daphne with this one."

"Wait, you don't like it?" Daphne asked.

"I just don't think it's classy, as Frasier said, but if you want it, you'll have it. After all, you're the bride."

"And you're the groom, so you must have some say in all this. What would you prefer, darling?" He noticed she strained a bit on 'darling;' this was exactly what he was trying to avoid. He mentally cursed Frasier in his mind for speaking out of turn.

"Um…" Sweat trickled down his pale face. "I was thinking about fish and chicken, so they at least have a choice between the two."

"But, what if they don't eat meat? Or what if they don't like fish or chicken?" Daphne inquired.

"You're right, Daphne," he said. "A buffet it is. It would be smashing to give people a variety of foods, like spaghetti or filet mignon. You know…" He chuckled nervously.

"What else is there?" Roz asked.

"I would like daisies for my bouquet. They are me favorites."

"Daisies it is, then," Niles said, writing it down.

"Aren't you allergic to those?" Martin asked.

"I can handle it," Niles said firmly.

"If you're allergic, then I shouldn't have them," Daphne protested.

"No, darling, don't change your bouquet on my account."

"But, what if you get an asthma attack because of me?"

"I will take some medicine beforehand; that always works. Daphne, this is your wedding, and I want everything to be perfect. You want daisies? You got it."

"Niles, you're so kind to me, risking your allergies for me sake."

"Darling, I would face all my allergies for you." She smiled, though she was worried.

"Make sure you have a great band," Roz said. "And make sure you have a great bar."

"Oh, yeah, a great bar is always great," Martin spoke up.

"Especially since me brothers are going to be coming," Daphne said grimly.

"The tablecloths should be a delicate cream color," Niles said. "To match the delicateness of my dear."

"Delicate?" Daphne asked. "I don't like to think I'm delicate."

"No, no, he's referring to himself," Frasier snorted.

"White then? With lace at the bottoms?" Niles asked, nervously.

"I'm quite fond of the cream color," said Daphne, calming Niles's nerves. "I just don't like to think I'm delicate. It makes me feel… weak."

"I only meant that you are gentle; I don't mean it in a condescending way."

"I forgive you. I want rose petals scattered all around. Each table will have a centerpiece with an arrangement of flowers."

"Each with a different quotation!" Niles hailed.

"Excellent idea, Niles!" Frasier praised. "Shakespeare would be fitting."

"But, of course. What do you take me for? An uncultured swine?"

"The cake should be chocolate!" Martin requested. At the sound of the word 'chocolate,' Eddie began begging for a treat. He threw him a biscuit, apologizing that he didn't have chocolate on him at the moment.

"Where should we have it?" Daphne asked, tapping the pen against her chin in thought.

"The Botanical Gardens. I have always dreamed of being married there," Niles responded.

"You've married there, remember?" Frasier asked.

"Yes, I remember. It was to Maris. However, since I met Daphne, I have dreamed of being married there to my dream girl."

"It sounds lovely," Daphne said.

"Hey, I just noticed," Roz said, looking out the window to see that they were still in the parking lot of the motel. "We haven't moved yet."

"I'm sorry, Roz," Frasier said. "I got so caught up with wedding planning that I completely forgot."

"Guests?" Daphne asked as the Winnebago started rolling through the streets. "Me family, of course. Roz, your family…"

"Maris," Niles said at once. When he felt all eyes on him, even Frasier, who was driving, he said, "I think it would be a kind gesture is all. And I kind of want to show how happy I am without her. Keep your eyes on the road, Frasier."

"Oh!" He shouted when he realized he was going over to another lane. He jerked the Winnebago back into his own.

"Stop!" Martin shouted.

Frasier slammed on the breaks, causing poor Eddie to slide to the front.


"There's a tavern! Let's stop and get a beer!" Frasier kept on going. "I said let's get a beer! I'm going to keep badgering you until you stop this thing! Frasier, Frasier, Frasier, Frasier, Frasier, Frasier."

Eddie began barking in order to speed up the process.

Roz could see the vein in Frasier's forehead throb with annoyance.

Finally, he shouted, "OKAY! Okay!" He parked right in front of the tavern.

"Thank you," Martin sang, patting Eddie on the head.

"Yeah, whatever."

"It's a shame we couldn't take Freddy," Niles said as he helped Roz and Daphne out onto the pavement.

"Why is that a shame?" Frasier asked, closing the door behind him once Martin and Eddie were out.

"Family vacation?" Niles laughed.

"Are you sure you can bring that thing with you?" Frasier asked Martin, ignoring Niles.

"The cane? Well, I would hope so!" Martin shouted.

"Not the cane! I was talking about Eddie."

"Eh, I'll handle it."

Martin walked right into "Moe's Tavern" with Eddie in his arms.

Frasier, Roz, Niles, and Daphne followed, unsure of how the bartender would react.

To their surprise, Martin was seated on a stool in the bar while Eddie occupied the seat next to his.

"What's this?" Frasier asked.

"Moe says it's alright," Martin explained, sipping at a beer he had the counter. "He says they've had worse."

"You must be Moe?" Frasier asked, addressing a man behind the bar.

"Yeah, hey, what's up?" Moe replied.

"Hey, Carl, you know who that guy sounds like?" Another man asked a man to his left.

"Who, Lenny?"

"Sideshow Bob," Lenny said.

"You know what? He does!" Carl exclaimed.

"Side what whom?" Frasier asked, raising his eyebrows in perplexity.

"He's a convicted attempted murderer," Moe said.

The color in Frasier's face drained at those words. Roz nudged him with her elbow.

"Attempted murderer, you say?" Niles asked, taking a seat next to an overweight fellow who burped rather loudly after he sat down.

"Barney, you need another?" Moe asked, filling up another glass of beer.

"Sure!" Barney said, burping again. Once he got his hands on that other glass, he gulped it down.

"Why is it you call him 'Sideshow Bob?'" Niles asked, edging a little bit away from Barney.

"He used to be the sidekick to Krusty the Clown," Lenny said. "He's a popular children's TV show host."

"Hey, Moe!" Someone else yelled. He was overweight as well, but not so much as Barney. He was wearing a white collar shirt and blue jeans.

"Hey, Homer! Your usual?" Moe asked.


"Excuse me, sir?" Frasier asked tapping Homer on the shoulder.


"Would you happen to know anything about Sideshow Bob?"

"Oh, yeah, I know him! He's the one who's always trying to kill my son, Bart."

"WHAT?" Frasier and Niles gasped in unison.

"Y-your son is ten?" Niles asked.


"Can we meet him?" Frasier asked.

"I don't see why not! You seem like respectable people, especially you." He pointed at Frasier. "With your beautiful voice."

"Well, thank you."