So there we were.
Elliot about to get married,
me about to have a baby with Kim,
careening toward a kiss.
We were both terrified because either one of us
could back out at the last second,
leaving the other kissing the air and feeling like a fool.
Ah, the point of no return.
The closing of the eyes.
Time to dine.
Elliot?
J.D., what are we doing?
How the hell did she do that?
Look, what almost happened in there is not about us.
Of course not. Please. Us.
I mean, we're both just on the verge of making giant commitments
and, as usual, we're freaking out.
You're right. And you know what? We can't let fear
screw up our relationships.
Who wants to end up like Snoop Dogg Intern?
- Hey. - Sorry. Snoop Dogg Resident.
- Hey. - Snoop Dogg Attending?
- That's right, baby. - All right.
The point is he hasn't told Josephine
that she gives him wowsers in his trousers.
Hey, be cool. Be cool, man. I'm working on it. Okay?
I'm with you, dawg. Just keep it real.
- What do we do now? - Nothing.
Nothing happened, so we never have to speak of this again.
- Hey. - Keith?
Keith?
Wait, I was already surprised out loud.
I was lonely at home, so I decided to come by and say hi.
And then I had one of those weird, crystallising moments
when everything becomes so clear.
I mean, I should've been relieved that Keith hadn't shown up earlier
and walked in on J.D. And me, but I wasn't.
I wish he had caught us, because the truth is...
I don't want to marry him.
- Shut up! - Oh!
Honestly, I think I let it get this far
because of how much I want to be married, you know?
God, I want to be married.
Baby...
Hey, I'm sorry for barging in so late.
I hope I didn't interrupt anything important.
- Oh... - Actually, since I'm diabetic,
Carla only lets me eat one candy bar every six months,
so she was helping me choose which one to go with.
First, we cut out all candy that sounds remotely racist,
which includes all dark chocolate
and I know this sounds weird, but Ju Ju Bes.
- Oh... - Then Carla was like,
"Well, what about Junior Mints?" And I was like, "Junior Mints?
"Baby, if I want my candy to freshen my breath,
"I'll just slap some toothpaste on a Whatchamacallit bar
"and go to town on that bad boy!"
You know what I'm saying?
She knows I'm changing the subject 'cause she's sad.
Come here. Come here, Elliot.
No.
Okay.
What did he ask you?
Oh, he just wanted to know if there was anything I needed.
Elliot.
He asked me if they still make Mars Bars.
Come on, Bob, there's an empty table right there.
I'll leave for $ 10.
Pleasure doing business.
Hey, friend.
What, are you bored up there?
So, how'd it go with Keith?
I haven't told him yet.
His whole family is in town for the wedding,
and so my house is filled to the frickin' rafters
with Dudemeisters.
You know how my college girlfriend Stacy broke up with me?
She arranged it so that when I came home from class
I was able to see her writhing in pleasure
beneath a big brown butt.
How many times do I have to apologise for that?
I still have nightmares about your cheeks, Turk.
Just bouncing and bouncing...
I can't sleep.
Good to see you.
Okay, now or never.
Keith!
Hey there, future Mrs Dudemeister.
Actually, I'm not sure we decided whether or not
I'm going to take your last name.
You know what? That's not important.
Keith, we need to talk.
What's the matter?
I don't even know how to start this.
Keith, I've been thinking.
I don't feel right watching this.
It's not just us.
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That's it. It's over.
- Oh. - Oh.
- J. D!
No, Snoop Dogg Attending finally told Josephine how he feels.
- Oh. - Oh.
Hey, everybody, look. A rainbow.
- Oh. - Oh.
It had been a while since my near-kiss with Elliot
and the dust was finally starting to settle.
Daddy's home!
Come here! Check out these big pregnant hippo feet.
Wow, those are truly disgusting.
Right? I missed you.
Elliot had broken up with Keith
and everything looked great for me and Kim.
Still, to see how we got there, I have to go back a week.
So, how's Keith?
Carla. Pig-Whore.
Better, actually. It used to be "Stupid Pig-Whore."
It's only been a few days and he's already dropped an adjective.
Wow. Maybe by the weekend you'll just be "Whore."
Hey, Kim, I know because of work I haven't seen you in a while,
but do you mind if I grab a drink with Turk tonight?
Tell her my dad died.
Go have fun with your friend. I'm gonna stay in and eat.
Thanks, babe. Bye.
See, Turk? Now we can save that dad dying thing
to go see the new panda baby at the zoo.
Oh, it's too late for that. She died.
Not Ming-Ming.
Her mama sat on her and then ate her.
Stupid nature.
I can't believe I almost messed things up with Kim.
What is wrong with me?
You're an annoying, whiny man-child.
That question wasn't directed at you.
What question?
Mr Hutnik,
I see here you were admitted
for swollen lymph nodes and abdominal pain.
I'm also having heart palpitations.
Well, I think I can help you with that one.
You see, I'm very, very handsome.
I was gonna say.
- Beardface? What do you say? - It's Beardfacé.
Why do you people insist on calling me Beardface?
- May I? - Go for it.
Well, I just got here, but if I had to guess,
I would say it's because your face is, like, five-sixths beard.
Damn you!
Carla, which resident ordered a CAT scan on Mr Hirsch last night?
That would be me, Pig-Whore. It's all in the notes.
Aw, can't Pig-Whore read?
Ha! Pig-Whore Read!
See, your last name's Reid, so it works two ways.
Keith's being totally unprofessional.
You were supposed to marry him last weekend.
Speaking of which, I gave you a very high-end cappuccino maker
and seeing as there aren't going to be any nuptials...
Yeah, yeah, you'll get it back.
Great.
Look, Keith and I have to work together.
- How am I supposed to fix this? - You can't.
You just gotta let him hate you for a while.
No, we can get through this.
I'm going to go talk to him.
Hey, wait a minute. We only got one cappuccino maker
and it was from my brother, Barry.
Worth a shot.
So, are you gonna answer me or not?
Come on, man. You know why you almost screwed things up with Kim.
- Don't make me say it. - All right, fine.
The Harsh Truth Rule is in effect.
I'll lay a harsh truth on you, so when you lay one on me
- you won't feel guilty. - J.D., we don't need...
When you sweat a lot, you smell like eggs.
That's not even true.
Did Carla tell you to say that?
No, why? Does she think that, too?
- No. - Oh...
All right, fine. You want to know why you almost blew it with Kim?
It's because you knocked her up on your first date
and before you could get to know her, she betrayed you.
And now you don't have strong feelings for her,
and the only reason why you guys are still together
is because there's a kid involved.
Which means you're gonna stick it out with her till the end,
whether you love her or not.
I don't know, man. I don't think that's true.
I don't think it's about her. I think it's about me.
I have sabotaged every relationship I've ever been in.
Look at it. Molebutt, Tina-Two-Kids, Rumplefugly, Gift Shop Girl...
None of those girls were good for you anyway.
Well, except for Molebutt.
I don't even know if Rumplefugly was a girl.
Stop it. Fugs was awesome.
Lyme disease and how on earth
could I possibly have figured out such a tough diagnosis so darn quickly?
Because I'm that good.
One more time for emphasis. I'm that good.
Now, I'm going to have this incredibly fun-sized intern
give you a quick body check for tick bites. Tippytoes!
Oh, there she is. She's cute.
And once she has found the tell-tale, bull's-eye-shaped mark,
we'll be able to start treating you. How does that sound, Mr Hutnik?
Please, call me Joe.
- I've got to get that guy out of here. - Why, is he a jerk?
No, I... I think I like him.
- What smells like eggs? - Nothing, sir. You're imagining it.
What's wrong with liking a patient?
I'm not you. I don't get to introduce myself to patients,
do a minor surgery, recommend a good mortician to the family
and then just be on my way. I have to treat people.
And if I like them, well,
that makes me want to work all that much harder.
And really, who has time for that, right?
Seriously, am I having a stroke or is someone making an omelette?
Hey, Keith.
You came to your house while I'm packing up my stuff,
even though you promised not to be here. Awesome.
Well, you know you can't take my word.
I mean, I also promised I'd marry you last Saturday, right?
Right?
I know, too soon. I'm sorry.
But, come on, we love "too soon" jokes.
Come on now. Let's see the chuckle. Huh?
Here it comes.
I think I see it bubbling up.
Do not make me start laughing,
because you know that if I start laughing
then you'll start laughing.
Okay, you know what? This is why it was so easy to walk out on you.
So I finally figured out what's wrong with me.
You're an annoying, whiny man-child.
I'm a self-saboteur.
And not just in relationships, in everything.
But you know what? I'm done with all that.
I'm not going to shoot myself in the foot any more.
- What is it, fun-size? - I checked Mr Hutnik all over,
- but I couldn't find a tick bite. - Oh, my God.
I gotta go figure this out. I can't believe it.
Oh, and by the way, you have a ridiculous speaking voice.
And even though I wanted to ask Snoop
how he could spend a second listening to that voice
without killing himself, I didn't.
Yep, no more bringing trouble my way by saying things like...
- Who are the flowers for? - My girlfriend.
- You have a girlfriend? - Just 'cause I'm a janitor
means no woman could possibly be attracted to me?
No.
Yes.
There she is right down there.
Really? What's her name?
Lady.
- Lady? - You don't believe me?
Well, let's just say you've lied to me before.
Watch this.
Hey, Lady!
Stay there! Don't... Don't come down here.
I'll give these to you later.
Your witness.
Just pick a candy, T-Dawg.
Shut up!
You have no idea how important this is to me.
And then I had this weird, crystallising moment.
I realised I didn't have to choose the candy.
- I could just let the candy choose me. - So what'd you get?
- Bit-O-Honey. - Oh, I'm so, so sorry.
Don't be. I ate that bad boy an hour and a half ago,
and I'm still pulling bits-o-it outta my teeth.
Oh, my God, Gandh-idiot. Would we all be better served
if we filled this patient with a creamy caramel centre?
Then would you tell me whether or not he needs surgery?
It's not an acute abdomen, so it's not a surgical issue.
Why can't anyone figure out what's wrong with me?
I won't let you down.
I'm sorry I couldn't help, Mr Hutnik.
Oh, please. Call me Joe.
I am so psyched to call him Joe.
He's got this magical quality to him.
- Boy, you're telling me. - What can I do to help?
Gumball, I honestly don't know
- what to do next. - I do.
Some phrases sting, no matter how they're said.
They can be barked by a sworn enemy.
Get the hell out of here!
Or hissed by a jilted ex stealing a lamp.
Elliot, just get the hell out of here!
Or even plainly stated in a veteran doctor's soothing tone.
Goodbye, everybody. I'll see you tomorrow!
Not her.
Fellas, if his symptoms have subsided
and you can't find an underlying cause, his insurance won't cover him.
You have to tell Mr Hutnik to get the hell out of here.
Hey, Joe.
When someone tells you to get the hell out,
you don't have a lot of options.
You can ignore them...
Where are you taking me?
Joe, we are turfing you to dermatology to buy ourselves some time.
Gandhi, how's that mole looking?
- Nice and cancerous. - Well done.
Or you can take a more direct approach.
- No, Keith, I'm not leaving. - Oh, awesome.
Why does it have to be like this?
I care about you so much.
I don't want to lose you from my life.
Well, you're going to,
because from now on, Pig-Whore, you're dead to me.
- You did what? - I know. I am a pig-whore.
What am I going to do now?
Could you two kindly shut your respective cake holes?
We're trying to figure out what's wrong with Joe here.
Big news, sports fans!
I've decided to start calling everyone "sports fans."
Yeah, I know I'm not exactly the jock-y type,
but I watched Hoosiers last night,
and I like sports now.
Anybody have any objections? Marjorie?
Shocking. You're usually the one who has
something to say about everything...
I know you're the one that started the rumour that I like dudes.
All right, sports fans.
I've almost gone an entire day without sabotaging myself.
Hello?
That's it!
Ladies and gentlemen,
welcome to the First Annual Sacred Heart Who-Caresies Awards,
designed to honour those people who believe that others
actually give a rat's ass about the minutiae of their lives.
The weird thing was, I think we all really wanted to win.
And the nominees are Barbie Reid for
"What Am I Going To Do About My Ex-Fiancé?"
Dame Judy Dorian for "I'm Done Self-Sabotaging."
Gandhi for "I've Got Candy In My Teeth."
The Todd for "Look At My New Shirt!"
And the winner is...
Dame Judy Dorian.
This is Dame Judy Dorian's first nomination and first win.
Suck on that, Tony Shalhoub.
Perry, why the hell is Hutnik still here?
- Put him on the street. - You win. But would you do us a favour
and you deliver the news to Hutnik yourself?
I'd be glad to.
Hi, I'm Bob Kelso. Mr Hutnik, is it?
Please, call me Joe.
Think, fellas, think!
We have to figure out what's wrong with Joe.
I've done it. An entire day without sabotaging myself.
I'm sorry, but I don't even know who you are.
Well, that seems like a strange thing for a girlfriend to say, isn't it?
Hold on one second, I have to grab this.
Yello? Oh, yes, he's here.
It's "The Truth" calling. It wants to know why you never tell it.
I mean, really, who are you? A necklace with my name on it?
The man I met was sweet, but I had no idea how sweet.
You're gonna get some! Ha!
Just had to do the phone bit, didn't you?
- Her name's Lady? - Yeah.
- Who's named Lady? - She is.
She's got a brother named "Him." What do you care?
Seriously, why do you force me to make your life miserable?
And I really didn't have an answer for him.
You know what I don't have an answer for?
Why I'm going line dancing with Keith tonight. Stupid Pig-Whore.
J.D., you're not that self-destructive.
Really?
I was gonna suggest he seek professional help.
Would you be interested in seeing a cognitive therapist?
'Cause I know a guy, he's good.
I'm gonna give you his card, then I'm gonna bash your head in.
- I'll see you in the morning. - I'm in at 7:00.
Wear a helmet.
Screw it. I'm just going to marry Keith.
Maybe he'll die young.
When did we become such ridiculous, pathetic people?
Why do you two think you're that different from anyone else?
J.D., I get in my own way all the time.
Like this morning, I was running late and I got toothpaste on my upper lip.
And even though I knew Turk was watching,
I didn't wipe it off with my hand.
I went like this...
Oh, morning.
And, Elliot, I'm sorry, but you are not the first person
to ever sleep with their ex, okay?
Is there a point to this?
Yes. And pay attention, because I don't want to be
saying the same thing again in two weeks.
You're both human.
Give yourselves a break, okay?
Fair enough.
I can't look at these medical books any more.
We're getting nowhere.
- What it do, Beardface? - It's Beardfacé! Beardfacé!
Calm down, Seymour.
If you want to lose the nickname, you gotta shave the beard.
- Course, then you'd be Dr Face. - Ha! Dr Face.
Damn you all!
I wonder what he's hiding under all that hair.
That's it.
- What's it? - Interns are idiots. Ockham's razor.
There you are. Oh, do you want to go straight out
or do you want to go back to our place and grab some food first?
We have to talk.
Oh, my God. I can't believe I have to do this again.
- Do what again, babe? - Well...
I feel so bad for them.
Yeah, me, too.
Actually, I never really cared for Keith or his farm boy looks,
but now wasn't the time for that.
Hey, Kim.
Get your butt home already. We haven't seen each other in days.
Don't you miss me?
Of course I do.
But the truth was I didn't.
And then I had this weird, crystallising moment.
You see, there's an age-old principle you hear a lot about in medicine,
that the simplest, most obvious answer is usually the correct one.
It's called Ockham's razor.
It could mean that your first instinct was right and it was Lyme disease...
Bull's-eye. And there's your tick bite.
Let's put him on 100 milligrams of Ceftin.
Joe, you're gonna be fine.
Thank you, guys. Sincerely.
Or that your best friend was right
and you have to let your ex-fiancé hate you for a while...
Good night, you skanky, straw-haired Pig-Whore.
Did you hear all the new adjectives?
Come here. You are not straw-haired.
I know.
In my case, it was never about sabotaging myself.
- Daddy's home! - Come here.
Check out these big pregnant hippo feet.
- Wow, those are truly disgusting. - Right? I missed you.
It was the simple answer, just like Turk said.
I had knocked up a girl on our first date.
And I don't have strong feelings for her and probably never will.
And the only reason we're still together is because
there's a kid involved,
which means I'm gonna stay with her until the very end,
whether I love her or not.
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