Cliff: l, uh, don't mean to be an alarmist, or anything, but I think I saw one of those bees fly out when you closed the door.
Frasier: l, uh, well, I sort of have this thing about, uh, insects.
Norm: Relax, Frasier. The last thing that bee wants to do is sting you.
Cliff: Stings you, he dies.
Frasier: True.
Cliff: Unless, of course, it's one of those rare, rogue bees.
Carla: Oh, Frasier, there he is! He just flew down your shirt! [Frasier pulls his shirt off] I was wrong. It was just a piece of lint.
Frasier: Well, thank goodness you told me before I made a fool of myself.