[J.D.] Since my scooter was in the shop, I didn't know how I'd get to work,
but luckily, my neighbor, Ronald, lent me his ride.
Ronald's six.
But I still got there in time to steal the guard's Arts & Leisure section.
Hello!
Around here, everyone has some sort of morning ritual.
Getting help on the word jumble from your dyslexic tracheotomy patient...
T-P-l-P-O-E.
[Gasps] Pot pie.
Save your voice, Marsha. Mmm. Save it.
[Squeaks]
[J.D.] Cursing out an innocent orderly over a stolen physical therapy tub...
Damn it, you better find it! Physical therapy tubs don't disappear!
[Squeaking]
Or, for some, just a relaxing afternoon soak on the roof.
Oh, come on. Let me in. This totally covers my boys.
Try and get in here in that thing, I'll give you a four-story atomic wedgie.
[Watch beeps]
[Screams] My eyes!
- [Crashing] - [J.D. Screams]
[J.D.] Yeah, it hurt.
But when you accept the keys to the hog,
you become a lifetime member of the danger club.
Excuse me, fine ladies,
but I've got lives to save.
- Oh! Ronald's gonna be mad. - He's six.
- What's he gonna do? Kick my ass? - Again?
Check this chart. Guy says he's been in pain for three months.
For doctors, pain is complicated.
Every patient handles it differently, depending on their race...
Does what hurt?
... gender...
Ow! I just bit the inside of my lip.
Nothing has ever hurt so badly!
... or even their sex life.
Oh, yeah! That feels good!
Since there's no way to truly gauge how much pain someone's in,
we have to rely on an archaic chart.
Mr. Peele, you're about a seven on the pain chart.
Yep, you're a seven.
What's a 10?
[Screaming]
That's a 10.
# I can't do this all on my own
# No, I know I'm no Superman
# I'm no Superman #
[J.D.] After four years,
I'm comfortable helping myself to the nurses' muffin basket.
Blueberry-cran-carrot-zucchini poppy-seed-chocolate-chip.
All right, everybody.
Last one here has to do a double shift this weekend!
Keith, you just lost your weekend.
What? I totally beat Lisa!
Call that androgynous husband
and tell him or her you're mine this weekend.
But I feel like I edged out James.
We're not clear on the ground rules.
The last one to touch my face. I'm not gonna like that.
The last one to touch my bot... No, that's illegal.
I'll just e-mail everyone. That's what I'll do.
In this day, that's what you do. OK, over here.
Guys, Mr. Jenkins spent all night without being treated.
Now, I know he's homeless
and smells like an obese man's two-sie.
- Hey! - Sorry, thought you were dozing.
The thing is, it doesn't matter if he's homeless or some senile racist...
- Which people do I hate again? - Immigrants, Mr. Bursick.
You hate all immigrants.
- And why do I hate...? - I don't have time, Mr. Bursick.
Guys, if I give you a patient,
I expect you to work your butts off for him.
And P.S., Mr. Jenkins is a Vietnam vet.
So let's take care of him like he took care of our nation.
Get out of here!
That's how you light a fire under their butts. Some inspiration!
Too much talking, too much talking, too much talking, too much talking.
Why did you order a BMP test on my patient, Mrs. Wilk, last night?
- Because she's my patient. - Interesting,
- seeing as I admitted her. - And I treated her last night.
- Dr. Dorian, why do I hate all...? - They're stealing all of our jobs.
Stealing all of our jobs.
Perry, we spent an equal amount of time with Mrs. Wilk.
Seeing as we're both attendings, i.e. "equals,"
why don't we let her decide who her doctor is, huh?
Or we could skip the day trip to Unnecessary-land,
and instead, simply concede that Mrs. Wilk is my patient
and that, while we are both attendings, we are in no way equals.
We are, in fact, not equals. We are... hmm, unequals.
- I choose Dr. Dorian. - Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
I don't even believe it! I don't believe it-lieve it-lieve it!
Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!
Yes! I'm shaking! Look at this! It's crazy-talk!
He played hearts with me all night.
[Moans]
You're a very strange man, aren't you?
I was a preemie.
[Whimpering]
Mr. Peele, I have run every test,
and I cannot find any medical reason for your pain.
[Groans loudly]
[J.D.] Then Elliot did what every good doctor does when they're truly stumped.
- She pawned him off. - I've called a surgical consult.
- [Groans] - Help has arrived! Help has arrived.
Turkelton.
And then Turk said what every surgeon says when he's not sure what to do.
Hmm. Mind if I slice you open?
[Both scream]
Uncool!
OK, listen up, everyone!
I'm sure you all got the flier I made reminding everyone of the staff picture.
I need to know by a show of hands
how many of you aren't gonna be able to make it.
Oh, come on!
Aren't you guys embarrassed by our last three staff pictures?
Laverne, I'm gonna need a little of your church enthusiasm to help sell this.
Damn it, everyone! We are a family!
A family, people!
- And I know we love each other. - Love's all we've got!
So can't we just take 10 minutes from our day to take a real staff photo?
# Yes, we can!
# Yes, we can! #
- Tambourine's a little much. - Carla, I don't photograph well.
On my driver's license, I look like Gary Busey.
They say the same thing about me.
See ya later, Elliot.
I am gonna let Big Bob here give the first excuse.
- Blah, blah, blah. I'm not doing it. - I'm caught on his collar!
This picture is happening!
No, it's not.
Oh, what do you know, mop jock?
I've predicted a couple things:
The kitchen fire of '97, the kitchen fire of '98,
the arson conviction of Luis the cook,
and the termination of the hospital's "Convicts-to-Cooks" program.
The bottom line, not gonna happen.
# Not gonna happen! No, not gonna happen!
# Not gonna happ...
By the way, I, uh... I won't be at the picture either.
You'll be there. You'll all be there.
Hello!
If you're wondering what a "Thank you for being my doctor" card looks like,
it looks a little something like this.
"Happy anniversary, gals"?
Oops. This one's for my Aunt Judy and her lady friend.
- Must've grabbed the wrong card. - Newbie...
Oh, right, your imaginary warning light. Don't be mad, Perry.
This day was bound to come. I've studied you.
I've taken your best qualities and my best,
and I've combined them into something even better.
Much the way that iced tea and lemonade were joined
to become an Arnold Palmer.
Incidentally, has anyone ever done less to become famous?
I mean, "Yay for me! I mixed two drinks together."
Arnold Palmer is a golfer.
I'm sure he has lots of hobbies, Perry. The man's a drink mogul. "Dear..."
[J.D.] In a hospital, even the best of moods
can be ruined simply by somebody handing you a chart.
Do you have any family, Mrs. Wilk?
No. I was married twice. Divorced one, the other died.
Wrong one died.
Look, Mrs. Wilk, you have something called systemic amyloidosis.
Now, it's in your liver now, but it'll eventually shut down all your organs.
There is a treatment, but it's very invasive and, at best,
it'll just give you a little more time.
- Well, I've had a great life, so... - Say no more.
I'm gonna take amazing care of you.
OK.
- How's it going today? - Crappy.
I had to tell an old lady she's dying. You?
OK. Elliot turfed this chronic pain patient to me.
I have no idea what's wrong, so I have to do exploratory surgery.
[J.D.] I always wondered what exploratory surgery was like.
I've made the first incision.
I'm going in.
- [Grunting] - [Squishy sounds]
Nurse, hat!
Colon. Why'd it have to be the colon?
Removing the golden tumor.
[Shouting]
Ladies...
They knew the risks.
Watch out for colon darts.
Where's the donut truck?
I got paged there was a donut truck out here.
I got paged there was a handbag sale.
Where's the booby-touching booth?
Weird. Like everyone was lured by the thing they want most.
Hey, you're not getting your ass kicked.
Hold the phone! Look!
Bleachers!
Ladder!
Bucket of combs!
She's trying to take the picture. Scatter!
Nobody move! Laverne, door!
Nobody's getting past here, baby!
OK, everybody. One, two...
And three.
What are you doing here?
Mrs. Wilk was asking me questions
that I actually thought would be best answered by you.
Why did that sweaty attorney ask me if my affairs were in order?
Because I wanted to make sure that you're as comfortable as possible.
- As comfortable as possible? For what? - I'm going to sit for this.
For the place that you're going.
The big puffy clouds, bright lights, all your old friends...
- Seattle? - No, no, no. Not Seattle.
The... You know, the "dying peacefully" place.
- What are you talking about? - Now, I'm going to stand.
This morning, you told me you'd had a great life.
Exactly. And I'd like to continue it.
This is just a misunderstanding. Sorry. Tell her it's a misunderstanding.
He's tried to kill before.
In a hospital, the words "I'm sorry" can mean a lot of different things.
So, the surgery went fine.
Unfortunately, I didn't find any medical reason for your pain.
It can mean, "I'm giving up on you."
I'm sorry.
It can mean you're not sorry at all.
Sorry your picture didn't come out.
Yeah.
And, sometimes, "I'm sorry" can mean your services are no longer needed.
I'm sorry, Dr. Dorian.
So you gave her the old death sentence, did ya?
In the business, we call that a rookie mistake, but thanks for playing.
Who the hell's responsible for this?
Not even my giant mouthful of apple-pear-orange-banana-cherry-berry
could lift my depression about losing my patient.
Hand over your stethoscope.
What?
In victory, I get your stethoscope. It's a trophy.
Back in olden times, I'd have made a necklace out of your teeth.
I find this highly unprofessional.
Now, I'm going to check on Mr. Jenkins, your war hero.
I feel he, too, deserves a competent doctor.
In fact, I'm gonna take all of your patients.
And consequently,
your only reason for getting out of that lacy, over-pillowed,
four-poster virgin cocoon you call a bed every morning.
Gotta get Mrs. Wilk back.
Who gave her a shade remote?
I didn't even know we had shade remotes.
Aww, either your picture didn't come out, or we're full of vampire doctors.
[J.D.] Vampire doctors? How did he hear about my screenplay?
I don't know why you did it, but I know it was you.
- How? - Because it's always you.
- It's not always me! - [Man screaming]
[Crashing]
Who the hell put tiny wheels on my shoes?
That's his fault. He took a nap in the lounge.
Why would you ruin this for me? I didn't even ask you to be there!
Imagine that.
I've been here 13 years, and I don't rate as part of the family.
Did you want to be in the picture?
No. It's just... I don't... Who... It's...
I gotta go.
I actually love these.
Miss Brooks, your blood work looks fine.
But I'd like to take one more sample, just for me.
- [Sucking sounds] - [Moaning]
You taste a little anemic. Get that down to the lab, buddy.
- Right away, Dr. Acula. - It's what they call me.
How you doing?
The end.
So Dr. Acula is a doctor and a vampire?
He's both. And at the very end,
I'm gonna put "Dr. Acula" across the screen,
take that period, get it out of there,
squish it together, it'll say "Dracula."
That is an awesome ending!
Um, thank you for telling me what I already know, Turk.
Frick! It's Mrs. Peele! One of us has to talk to her.
First one to chug their Slushee is off the hook. Come on! Here we go!
[Screams]
Brain freeze!
Why is my husband being discharged?
- Mrs. Peele, we really could not... - [piercing scream]
Turk, come on!
It's so cold!
Mrs. Peele, even though Dr. Turk is incapacitated by his beverage,
- he is a fantastic surgeon. - Uh-huh.
And he didn't find anything. And I am a great doctor...
- Nyahhh. ...and I didn't either.
Don't you think that maybe the pain could all be in his head?
Last week, we were all watching TV
and he was in too much pain to get up and use the bathroom,
so he soiled himself on the couch right in front of our son.
How do you explain that?
Maybe there was a good game on television.
Probably not.
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[Screams] My screenplay!
Hey, sport!
[Grunting]
You just lit your pipe on my title page.
I heard Mrs. Wilk gave you the axe.
She said, "I've led a great life,"
and every doctor knows that's code for "I'm ready to die."
How old do you think I am, Dorian?
There's no way to answer and not get in trouble. Change the subject.
Sir, I would be honored if you and Enid would join me on Sunday
for some homemade jambalaya.
Well, it would be good for Enid to get out of the house.
My God! He's thinking about it. Change the subject back!
You're 78, sir.
- You think I'm that old? - Jambalaya.
- I'm 57, numbnuts. - Really?
- I know they say 57 is the new 40... - Who?
...but it seems all people see when they look in my direction is some old guy.
I was in the mall hanging out at Brookstone
and some kid asked me if I was lost.
Brookstone. Were you looking for gadgets, sir?
If that's what you call trolling for mall ass, then yeah.
The point is, you think Mrs. Wilk is old enough to die.
I'm betting she doesn't agree.
How am I supposed to know the Janitor has feelings?
We should've believed Mr. Peele.
It's not like somebody poos their pants for no reason.
- Turk did that in college on a bet. - Carla did not know that story.
Thank you.
Sometimes when you feel guilty, it's a storm cloud over your head.
- [Thunder rumbling] - [Wind howling]
I knew there was only one way to make the guilt storm go away.
Mrs. Wilk, I'm sorry.
Mrs. Wilk, I just wanted to say I was wrong
to think you wouldn't want to try every possible treatment there is
to avoid, you know...
...the place with...
You know, there's clouds and the Space Needle...
Seattle.
Yes, you were.
But thank you.
You're welcome.
You got a lot of pluck for an older gal.
How old do you think I am?
Jambalaya!
There are a lot of ways to make amends.
It can be as simple as including someone...
Hey.
I want you to be in the picture.
[Whimpers]
[Cracking]
- I thought you were trying to kill me. - I fought the urge.
- OK. - Thanks.
... or as complicated as committing to a difficult journey.
Mr. Peele, we believe your pain's real.
And you're not going anywhere until we figure it out.
Thank you.
The important thing is to regain the respect of your peers.
Say, Newbie, I, uh, I gotta hand it to you.
It took the heart of a lion to apologize to Mrs. Wilk like that.
Thank you.
It took the incompetence of a bewildered jackass
to make that error to begin with.
You never make assumptions based on your own perceptions.
- Just never do it. - Really?
You've been spending time treating my guy, Mr. Jenkins?
He's a veteran. He deserves as much.
He's just a homeless guy.
I made up the war veteran story to motivate my boys.
But, what are you gonna do?
Oh, come on. You've gotten me like 100 times.
I finally got you once. It was bound to happen, right?
I see your point. Kindly blow it out your ass.
- How did you get them to come down? - Fear.
OK, everybody.
One, two, three!
- [All] Yay! - [Camera clicks]
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