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00:21:47
Sarah Chalke, Zach Braff, Donald Faison
53
Getting help on the word jumble from your dyslexic tracheotomy patient...
In victory, I get your stethoscope. It's a trophy.
Bleachers!
Not even my giant mouthful of apple-pear-orange-banana-cherry-berry
I'm sure he has lots of hobbies, Perry. The man's a drink mogul. "Dear..."
It took the incompetence of a bewildered jackass
Where's the donut truck?
the arson conviction of Luis the cook,
She's trying to take the picture. Scatter!
Oh, what do you know, mop jock?
[J.D.] Vampire doctors? How did he hear about my screenplay?
I heard Mrs. Wilk gave you the axe.
Brookstone. Were you looking for gadget, sir?
You hate all immigrant.
[J.D.] Since my scooter was in the shop, I didn't know how I'd get to work,
Laverne, I'm gonna need a little of your church enthusiasm to help sell this.
And P.S., Mr. Jenkins is a Vietnam vet.
- I thought you were trying to kill me. - I fought the urge.
Mrs. Peele, even though Dr. Turk is incapacitate by his beverage,
Aren't you guys embarrass by our last three staff pictures?
- She pawn him off. - I've called a surgical consult.
Weird. Like everyone was lure by the thing they want most.
but luckily, my neighbor, Ronald, lent me his ride.
OK. Elliot turf this chronic pain patient to me.
Hmm. Mind if I slice you open?
I've predict a couple things:
[J.D.] Cursing out an innocent orderly over a stolen physical therapy tub...
I feel he, too, deserve a competent doctor.
and smell like an obese man's two-sie.
This day was bound to come. I've studied you.
- Must've grab the wrong card. - Newbie...
- seeing as I admit her. - And I treated her last night.
Why is my husband being discharge?
- [Groans] - Help has arrive! Help has arrive.
How am I suppose to know the Janitor has feelings?
Hey, you're not getting your ass kick.
Incidentally, has anyone ever done less to become famous?
but luckily, my neighbor, Ronald, lent me his ride.
Every patient handles it differently, depending on their race...
Unfortunately, I didn't find any medical reason for your pain.
Now, it's in your liver now, but it'll eventually shut down all your organs.
No. I was married twice. Divorced one, the other died.
Since there's no way to truly gauge how much pain someone's in,
Exactly. And I'd like to continue it.
And, sometimes, "I'm sorry" can mean your services are no longer needed.
I finally got you once. It was bound to happen, right?
and instead, simply concede that Mrs. Wilk is my patient
that I actually thought would be best answered by you.
The point is, you think Mrs. Wilk is old enough to die.
See ya later, Elliot.
I mean, "Yay for me! I mixed two drinks together."
Nothing has ever hurt so badly!
I finally got you once. It was bound to happen, right?
[J.D.] I always wondered what exploratory surgery was like.
You taste a little anemic. Get that down to the lab, buddy.
The thing is, it doesn't matter if he's homeless or some senile racist...
It took the incompetence of a bewildered jackass
we have to rely on an archaic chart.
I have no idea what's wrong, so I have to do exploratory surgery.
and smells like an obese man's two-sie.
Blueberry-cran-carrot-zucchini poppy-seed-chocolate-chip.
Oh, right, your imaginary warning light. Don't be mad, Perry.
No. I was married twice. Divorced one, the other died.
There is a treatment, but it's very invasive and, at best,
[J.D.] Cursing out an innocent orderly over a stolen physical therapy tub...
OK. Elliot turfed this chronic pain patient to me.
- Oh! Ronald's gonna be mad. - He's six.
- he is a fantastic surgeon. - Uh-huh.
The big puffy clouds, bright lights, all your old friends...
The last one to touch my bot... No, that's illegal.
four-poster virgin cocoon you call a bed every morning.
I'm gonna take amazing care of you.