No, it's a joke. Two guys go into a bar and one has significant losses in the upper right quadrant of his visual field. And the other one says, 'You're gonna need an MRI to confirm the type and location of the tumor.'
Confirmation is for wimps and altar boys! We don't need to wait for a reflex. If he can't get engorged the way god intended, he can't get engorged. [looks at Dr. Cameron]
Lack of response to your chest tells us nothing. Thirteen, show him y... [he glances at Thirteen's chest] ...I gotta find a decent set of knockers around here. [he wanders off]