Oh gosh, Shannon! Thank you so much for clarifying my point by repeating it word for word! Now, in a reciprocal gesture, could I be included in the planning of your coming out party?
No, it’s a cotillion joke. My god, newbie! It’s been two furiously frustrating years! How is it possible that you still don’t get me? I would never compare you to the gays! I like the gays! I like their music, I like their sense of style, I especially like what they’ve done with Halloween! But our thing is that you’re a little girl! That’s who you are! But maybe that's not fair...
Oh, hey, Bob, here's an idea: What say you stop showing up altogether? We'll just replace you with a giant time-clock. Oh, and if we ever get to missing you, we'll just have a tiny little Bob Kelso cuckoo bird pop out every couple of minutes and say "I've never satisfied a woman. I've never satisfied a woman. I've never satisfied a woman."
You? You're going to be a very scary... I mean, great father. Like last night, when you totally kicked our asses because we deserved it. Ad do you remember that time when you told me I wasn't the worst resident who ever lived?
Dr. Cox, you're always there when we need you. I think you've got this fathering thing down. [they look over at Kelso, who is berating Elliot until she is near tears] See, if she was your daughter, you'd totally know how to handle it.
I'm the head of the Radiology Department. You called me at home to do an abdominal catscan that could wait until Monday morning? Well, guess what? It's not happening.
In fact, if you get bored, why don't you just hijack an ice cream truck and drive it through our brand new pathology lab? But do me a favor and spare the paper shredder, because I'll need that to turn your next twelve paychecks into a clown wig you can wear for the rest of your internship!
Damn straight, you do! You know what your problem is, Bambi? You're—[Turk picks her up and carries her away] Oh! Turk! Please? Just one more second? I need the rush! Please? [to J.D.] I'm coming back for you!
[To Dr. Steadman] You're a doctor? Here, all this time I thought that you were some kind of parasitic creature that lived shoulder-deep inside Big Bob's colon.
Well, how about you let me worry about the way we do things around here, but if I ever do need advice on how to make a top notch rum and Coke, well then by gum mister you had better be by the phone cause I just might give you a jingle. [mimes talking on a phone] "Bah-rrring! Hello, Dan? Cox-a-roonie. Regarding the rum and Coke issue. Couldn't be more confused."
You don't like me. People don't like me! You know why? I'm a screw-up. Always have been. Ever since we were kids, my mom always made me walk Johnny to school first day every year, and every year, I'd walk him to the wrong school, just 'cause.
But I'm afraid you have me confused with somebody who gives a crap. And it's okay, you don't need to be embarrassed. Turns out it happens all the time. For instance, my father actually made the same mistake on his deathbed.
Hey, listen, Dr. Cox, no offense, I'm a big fan of the tough guy act, but let me tell you what I really think. I think you LOVE the fact that these kids idolize you. Johnny does! Johnny was always the one in the family we KNEW was going someplace. Sweet kid. Smart kid. Becoming a doctor? This is ALL he ever wanted, and yet, somehow, you've found a way to beat that out of him, haven't you? Turn him into some kind of cynical guy who seems to despise what he does. Dr. Cox, Johnny's never gonna look up to me. Ever. But he hangs on your every word. So I'm askin' - I'm tellin' you: take that responsibility seriously, stop being such a hard-ass. Otherwise, you're gonna have to answer to me.
