(This takes place earlier in the show's run, before Roz becomes a mom. It also hints at the fact that there have been several instances on the show where Roz and Daphne have almost squared off, only to have someone else interfere. Well, perhaps not this time ...)
(FRASIER OPENING CREDITS AND MUSIC)
(SCREEN IS WHITE LETTERS ON BLACK BACKGROUND: LADIES AND NO GENTLEMEN)
Roz Doyle (played by Peri Gilpin), producer of the Frasier Crane show on KACL Radio, and Daphne Moon (portrayed by Jane Leeves), live-in physical therapist for Frasier's father, Martin, are sitting alone on the couch in Frasier's spacious Seattle apartment, aimlessly watching television. They've been drinking a little bit, too, as evidenced by the bottle of wine and two half-empty glasses sitting on the coffee table in front of them.
Daphne is clicking through the channels with the TV remote, but it seems like nothing worthwhile is on tonight. Outside the rain and wind are furious - it's not a night for going out.
"Well, how nice," groans Roz. "The Crane clan goes away for the weekend to Everett, and leaves us here alone, with absolutely nothing to watch on TV!" Neither woman had a date for tonight, so they decided to get together and watch the tube what with Martin, Frasier, and Niles Crane gone for the next two days, plus Eddie, Martin's perpetually-staring Jack Russell Terrier.
"Well, it could be worse - we could be outside in that," nods Daphne at the sliding balcony window behind them and to the left. The glass is streaked with rain and illuminated by brief lightning flashes, with thunder crashing down every ten minutes or so outside.
Daphne continues to click absent-mindedly at the TV, switching channels every five seconds. Still there is nothing on that appeals to them.
Well, one of them, anyway.
"Daphne, could you change channels any faster?" intones Roz, just a hint of annoyance in her voice as she leans over and stares at the other brunette.
(SOUND EFFECT: LAUGH TRACK)
"I probably could, Roz," responds Daphne with just a trace of sarcasm in her British accent, as she leans back on the couch and stares back at Roz.
(LOUDER LAUGH TRACK)
"Well, don't have an attitude about it!"
"Who's having an attitude? You started it!"
Silence reigns momentarily as they glare at each other, each a little bored and agitated, and just slightly drunk.
"You know, Daph, you're a good-enough friend, and I like spending time with you - but sometimes, I've just wanted to take you out!"
"Well, thanks Roz, but I don't think I would go out on a date with you!"
"Not like that! I meant take you OUT, as in beat your little British butt red!"
(SOUND OF AUDIENCE GOING "OOOOOOOO")
"What? You think you could take me in a FIGHT, Roz?"
"Something like that, Daph. Admit it, there's been a couple of times we've almost gone at it, only to have Frasier or Niles or somebody else break it up before we could get started."
"Yes - but they're not here now!" says Daphne, leaning towards Roz, seated a few feet away.
Just then the TV beckons with footage of a female mud-wrestling match during a commercial for a Seattle hot spot. The sight of bikini-clad women struggling for supremacy is galvanizing, even tempting (thanks to the wine, too), and if the two women had been entertaining ideas of really fighting one another, their resolve is instantly crystallized as they stare at the TV and then back at each other - and smile.
"Let's do it, Roz!"
"You're on, Daph!"
And they begin to get up from the couch ...
(SOUND OF MEN CHEERING AND HOWLING AS SCREEN DARKENS)
(WHITE LETTERS ON BLACK BACKGROUND: AND IN THIS CORNER ...)
They set about drawing the blinds and curtains so that no one else can see what they're up to, even on this high floor in Frasier's apartment complex. After a few more sips of wine to get them good and loose, they stand behind the couch and in front of the fireplace and - just stare at each other, not knowing what to do next.
"Well, now what?" asks Roz, a little confused. "Do we just start pulling hair, or what? I've never done this before!" She wrings her hands anxiously.
"You think I have?" retorts Daphne, pointing to herself.
"I don't know! I ..." starts Roz, but then she is stopped by the sound of Daphne giggling. "What's so funny?"
"Oh, I don't know," snickers Daphne, obviously having indulged herself of a little too much wine. "I was just thinking - in England, when two girls decide to fight it out - ha ha - they sometimes choose to do it in the buff," she cackles, her "buff" sounding more like "boof" because of her accent.
Roz stares incredulously at Daphne for a second - but then the idea strangely appeals to her. She has never had a problem taking off her clothes, with all the men she's been with, so what big deal would it be to wrestle Daphne nude? Real "woman-to-woman" style?
"You're on, baby!"
(WOO-HOOING MALE VOICES)
Giddily and a little bit drunkenly, the peel and stagger themselves out of their clothes - cotton sweaters and ankle-length skirts, sheer stockings and high heels, lacey bras and matching panties. They then kick their garments off to the side before standing there just a few feet apart, totally exposed - feet bare, legs long and lean, rear-ends and hips curving in and out, breasts soft and ample and firm.
(MORE WOO-HOOING AND YELLING AS SCREEN DARKENS)
(WHITE LETTERS ON BLACK BACKGROUND: AND THERE'S THE BELL)
Staring at each other one more time, they go over last-second details.
"Whoever wins, wins, and we never speak a word about this to anyone else," offers Roz, arms folded across her chest.
"Agreed," replies Daphne, hands on her hips. "And we stay friends no matter what happens."
"And the rules are ..." starts Daphne, smiling, pointing at Roz ...
"... there ain't no rules," Roz finishes, grinning, pointing back.
(MEN YELLING AND SCREAMING ANXIOUSLY)
A final deep breath for both of them, and then they bend at the knees and begin to circle one another, legs and arms spread wide for balance, each woman never taking her eyes off the other as they begin their informal countdown to combat.
'And now it's time to show you Americans how we Brits wrestle," chides Daphne coyly, confidently.
'Well, I wouldn't get your hopes up, honey," sneers Roz. "Remember the American Revolution?" she adds with a wink and a nod.
"Ooooh, you'll pay for that!" cries Daphne as she lunges at Roz bare-handedly.
"Bring it on!" shouts Roz out loud as she charges at Daphne, and the two eager but tipsy brunettes come together to clasp each other in a mutual bearhug. Bare feet shuffle and slide on the wooden floor as they wrap their arms about one another and squeeze mercilessly ...
(WOO-HOOING AND YELLING AS SCREEN DARKENS)
(WHITE LETTERS ON BLACK BACKGROUND: TO BE CONTINUED ...)
The nude Seattle wrestling match begins as Roz and Daphne clasp each other in a mutual bearhug and begin squeezing, arms wrapping and sliding about each other's upper body as each woman looks for the best possible hold to take control of the contest. They twist and turn about on the wooden floor in a drunken sort of dance (not too far-fetched, as they've both been drinking), their bare feet shuffling and scrabbling about, their bare breasts and furry crotches pressing together erotically. Finally they both begin to pull one another towards the floor, where they come to rest on their knees, still grappling.
Their breasts still squash together, their nipples still press into one another as the two beauties tighten their holds and moan softly in both ecstasy and agony. Neither is able to gain an advantage right away, but as time passes, it's becoming clear that Daphne is beginning to dominate Roz. Her arms are winding tighter and tighter about Roz's waist with no resistance, and she is able to press her fists into the small of Roz's back and pump them inwards, squeezing Roz like a sponge. Roz grimaces as she tries to maintain her counterattack, her arms wrapped about Daphne's upper body and pinning Daphne's arms to her sides; but Daphne is tensing her muscles to ward off at least some of Roz's pressure, and Roz is beginning to tire. Her pain is evident in her closed eyes and grimacing lips, and she wonders if this was such a good idea after all ... Then Daphne antagonizes her suffering friend further.
"What's the matter, Roz?" jokes Daphne, still a bit heady with wine. "Am I putting too much of a squeeze on you?" And she laughs giddily.
Roz looks up and glares daggers at Daphne, pissed that she's not inflicting any real damage to her opponent, even as the two women continue squeezing one another fiercely.
"Laugh at this, you Limey twit!" snaps Roz.
She unfastens her arms from about Daphne's torso to bring her hands up and interlock her fingers, forming a web with her hands. Roz then presses her new construct over Daphne's nose and mouth, depriving her opponent of oxygen - and suddenly Daphne isn't so jovial anymore. Her cries are muffled by Roz's palms, and her eyes grow wide at her lack of air, even as she tries to hold on and squeeze Roz into submission.
"Mmmpphhh!" cries the beautiful Brit, desperate to breathe.
"How do you like THAT, Daph?" growls Roz, pressing down harder with both hands, completely sealing off Daphne's breathing passages. She grunts and groans in Daphne's grip, but Roz also smiles as she watches Daphne weakening in her grasp, her smother beginning to take effect. Finally Daphne is forced to release her hug and grab Roz by the wrists and try to pry those soft hands from off her face. But Roz is holding on like super glue, and Daphne feels herself growing lightheaded. Much more of this and she'll pass out. She tugs with all her strength, but Roz has really got her trapped.
"What, no jokes now?" chides Roz, enjoying her newfound dominance of Daphne.
Staring unconsciousness straight in the face, Daphne decides to give Roz something else to think about, and releases Roz's wrists to reach lower along Roz's sleek naked body until her groping hands find Roz's soft, ample breasts, which she cups in her hands and begins to squeeze.
Roz cries out momentarily, but Daphne holds on, hands nestled just beneath the base of Roz's breasts, squeezing slowly and methodically, fingers sinking into the soft flesh. Feeling slightly weirded-out by having another woman fondling her chest, a still-not-sober Roz lets Daphne go to try and pull the British beauty's hands loose; but Daphne continues to grip and squeeze, even as she breathes in deeply - and smiles.
"How does that feel, Roz?" teases Daphne.
Roz is tugging away, unable to loosen Daphne's grip no matter how frantically she pulls - and finally she decides to return the favor with interest. Reaching down, she latches onto Daphne's pretty breasts with her own hands and begins to squeeze them firmly, not enough to injure her friend, but enough to let her know this isn't exactly a friendly bout. Daphne's eyes widen at first, but soon her smile returns.
"Touché," murmurs Daphne, and the two women begin to moan softly as they clutch and squeeze each other's breasts while still on their knees, their match all knotted up once again. They squeeze and squeeze, neither woman willing to relent, neither desperate to escape, until Daphne begins to pull at Roz's nipples with her fingertips. Hard.
"Ooowww!" cries Roz, ad she breaks off to slap at Daphne's hands. "That hurts!"
"Well, we are wrestling," counters Daphne, "I'm just trying to win!"
"Well, try this on for size!" snarls Roz, and she reassumes her two-handed breast grab before lowering her head, closing her mouth on Daphne's left breast, and chewing methodically on the Brit's fleshy nipple.
Now it's Daphne's turn to scream, and scream she does, her high-pitched voice thankfully drowned out by the crashing thunder of the storm outside. Angry now, Daphne wraps her hands in Roz's long hair and pulls harder and harder until Roz is almost sobbing. Just as Roz relinquishes her bite and looks up, Daphne plasters her hands over Roz's forehead and begins to push her back down by the head, putting an awful strain on Roz's neck and back.
"Owww!" Roz shrieks. "What are you doing, Daph?"
"Why, I think I'm winning, Roz!"
Roz pulls at Daphne's wrists, but she has no leverage with which to overpower her rival. Daphne begins to push Roz down to the floor, further and further, as Roz shoots her legs up and forward to relieve the stress on her back and knees, wrapping them about Daphne's waist and squeezing, but she is not able to lock her ankles together. Daphne groans, but then, just before Roz's head touches the floor, Daphne suddenly lets Roz go, only to grab Roz underneath her knees and force Roz's long, shapely legs skyward. Finally, when Roz's toes are pointed up at the ceiling, Daphne shifts her grip once more to wrap her arms about Roz's waist again, this time pumping her fists into Roz's stomach s she squeezes the Wisconsin-born brunette in a reverse upside-down bearhug.
Roz feels herself growing lightheaded, blood rushing to her head as Daphne again puts on the squeeze while dangling Roz upside-down. Daphne stares down at Roz, where she has a great view of Roz's furry bush.
"My, quite a forest we've got here!" cackles Daphne, still not sober.
(LOUDER LAUGH TRACK)
"Oh, screw you!" snaps Roz up at her antagonist.
"What - am I one of your boyfriends now, Roz?"
(VERY LOUD LAUGH TRACK)
"Aarrggh!" cries Roz, and she begins to thrash about, trying to break free, but Daphne continues to crush her dangling victim with minimal effort on her part, arms constricting Roz's waist like steel bands, and she feels all she has to do now is simply hang on ...
Daphne continues to hold Roz upside-down and squeeze her arms about the inverted radio producer's waist as they continue their impromptu wrestling match, with the physical therapist totally in control. Roz thrashes about, arms and legs going every which way but she is still no closer to escape until she manages to slam a bare foot against the side of Daphne's face. Daphne is still a little drunk (as is Roz) and is stunned by the blow, and she drops Roz unceremoniously to the wooden floor as she tumbles back herself. They both lay there for long moments, both exhausted, but it is Roz who recovers first, and she is pissed.
Clambering over to her fallen foe on hands and knees, Roz straddles Daphne at the waist, and reaches down to secure her hands about Daphne's neck before squeezing hard.
Daphne immediately goes wide-eyed and clutches at Roz's wrists as she begins to cough in Roz's chokehold. Roz is unmoved and continues to throttle her friend, shaking Daphne's head up and down although not ramming it against the hard floor even as she tightens her grip.
"Roz ..." gasps Daphne, turning red and running out of air. "Please, Roz ... ack ... Ah ... Ah can't breathe!" She begins to cough even louder.
"Maybe that's because I'm choking you!" sneers Roz sarcastically as she squeezes some more.
"Roz ... please!" pleads Daphne, fading fast, unable to pry Roz's fingers from her throat.
Roz shakes Daphne twice more, up and down, and then begins to relent, loosening her hands so that the British beauty can breathe again. Roz runs a hand along the side of Daphne's face and then through her friend's matted hair.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Daph, I didn't mean to do that," laments Roz, her face looking a little bit sad.
"No?" inquires Daphne, her face returning to its normal color as she breathes in over and over again.
"No," adds Roz. "I meant to do THIS!"
In a flash Roz wraps her hands in Daphne's hair and then drops straight down until her heaving bust is pressed tight over Daphne's pretty face. The therapist's nose and eyes are the only parts of her countenance visible beneath Roz's ample knockers, which seal off Daphne's breathing passages and cut off her air once more. She bucks and thrashes beneath Roz, her hands clawing at Roz's back, but Roz holds fast, tangling her hands tighter in Daphne's hair as she mashes her chest harder and harder against Daphne's face, suffocating the Brit with her breasts. Their crotches also press together as they struggle body-against-body, which only heightens Roz's ecstasy as she begins to dominate her friend for the first time in their fight.
The struggle continues for a while, Daphne refusing to go under but unable to break free, Roz grinding and pumping against her friend-turned-foe, hands holding Daphne's head in place as her bust does its job. Daphne's efforts grow weaker and weaker, her hands fall away from Roz's back, and she offers no furher resistance, lying still until finally she passes out cold. Roz continues to grind against Daphne, crotch-to-crotch and breasts-to-face, until she feels she has had enough.
Rearing up while moving a hand through her sweated long brown hair, Roz kneels over her vanquished victim and smiles down at the smothered Daphne.
(SOUND OF AUDIENCE CHEERING)
Then she grins wickedly as an even more-wicked thought crosses her mind, and Roz shuffles upwards along Daphne's body until she can press her delectable derriere against Daphne's face ...
Suddenly the door clicks behind Roz and opens, and Frasier walks in to see Roz' backside in full view, straddling his housekeeper, ass to face. His brother Niles is with him.
"ROZ?!!" thunders Frasier, incredulous and flabbergasted, his mouth agape as he drops his keys. "WHAT THE DEVIL IS GOING ON?!!"
"Frasier!" squeaks Roz, trying futilely to cover herself up with her bare hands.
"Oh my god!"
"What? What - oh good lord, Roz!" expounds Niles, aghast as she sees what's going on. "What have you done to Daphne, you nymphomaniacal slattern?"
(MORE HOWLING, LOUDER AND LOUDER, AS CAMERA PULLS BACK TO REVEAL ENTIRE EMBARASSING SCENE)
Suddenly Roz snaps back to reality - it's just her and Daphne in the apartment, although Daphne is out cold beneath her, Roz still straddling Daphne's waist. They really did fight, and Roz really did win. The storm continues to howl outside ...
(END CREDITS PLAYING. VOICE OVER BY FRASIER SINGING "TOSSED SALADS AND SCRAMBLED EGGS")
Roz, bearing Daphne aloft in her arms, carries her friend into her bedroom at the back of Frasier's apartment and lays her down on the bed, Daphne still totally unconscious. Roz then stops at the dresser to write her friend a note ("Thanks, Daph, we'll have to do this again some time!") before looking back, smiling once more in triumph, and leaving the room before closing the door behind her. Fade-out is on Daphne, slumbering peacefully on her pink comforter ...
("THANK YOU, SEATTLE, WE LOVE YOU")