Open: Hospital -- Hall
J.D. emerges from the elevator.
J.D.: What?! I didn't say anything, I didn't do anything -- what imaginary slight have you concocted in that paranoid little brain of yours?
The Janitor points at the muddy tracks J.D. has made on his freshly mopped floor.
J.D.'s Thoughts: Crap.
J.D.: Well, shouldn't there be some sort of sign that say---
The Janitor holds up a "wet floor" sign.
J.D.: ...Oh. Look at that. Well, you should put it back down before someone slips and falls.
Janitor: Oh, is that what I should do. Good. Because I make most of my decisions based on your opinion.
J.D. walks on.
Janitor: You know what, I'm thinking of splitting up with the wife -- maybe you could mull that one over, get back to me? We can powwow?
A woman walks behind him to the elevator and, with a shriek, slips on the wet floor, the paperwork she was carrying flying into the air.
Janitor: [holding up the sign] The floor is wet, ma'am. Little help over here! Little help!
I.C.U -- Nurses' Station
Nurse Roberts: Move it or lose it, Q-Tip!
Elliot: [giggling] "Q-Tip"! 'Cause you're skinny and your head's fuzzy.
J.D.: Something's going down.
Dr. Cox: All right, bring it in here, you knuckle-heads. Come on, take a knee if you need to, you confound-its. I have been on since midnight -- so I stand here with my usual level of contempt for all of you, but with the added wrinkle of having thirteen cups of Nurse Roberts' piss-poor excuse for coffee passing pretty much straight through me. The not-so-hidden message being, of course, that if you screw up today, HA! I'm gonna hit ya hard! and HA! I'm gonna hit ya fast! Now then, I think some of you may have noticed that all twenty-seven of the patients that were here in the I.C.U. when I started last night are still alive; and I damn-sure intend for them to still be breathing when I get the hell out of here at midnight. I think you understand what kind of opportunity we have in front of us.
Elliot: What opportunity?
Doug: No; shush, shush.
J.D.: Shut up!
J.D.: You see, in baseball, when a pitcher's really hot -- no one talks to him, no one looks at him, you just stay out of his way!
Elliot: Why are you talking about baseball?
Dr. Cox: Because you should never, _ever_ jinx a pitcher when he has a chance to throw a perfect game! My GOD, Barbie, how do you put your bra and panties on in the morning?! All by yourself! It's...remarkable!
J.D.: See, 'cause he's the pitcher---
Elliot: Yeah, I get it now!
J.D.'s Thoughts: Getting a chance to be a part of a perfect game is like a once in a lifetime opportunity -- it just never happens.
His beeper goes off.
J.D.'s Thoughts: Which is why I don't mind Dr. Cox paging me for the thirteenth time this last hour.
J.D.'s Narration: You see, the I.C.U. is where all the most critical cases get turfed. So many patients die here, you start to think of death as just another co-worker -- always looking over your shoulder with the same annoying demands as every one else you work with.
- Fantasy Sequence: In a flash of lightning, The Grim Reaper appears before J.D.
Death: DR. DORIAN. Listen, I know you're busy, but my daughter's selling cookies.
J.D.: Put me down for two boxes of those mint thingies.
Death: She's in second place in her troop; 'course, if that girl who's in first keeps doing as well as she's doing, we're just gonna take her!
There's an ominous boom of thunder as Death cackles.
The daughter giggles.
Death cackles again.
As does the daughter.
Dr. Cox: [to an unconscious patient] What, exactly, do you think you're gonna do, cash it in? In your face!
Dr. Cox: You're fine; thank you. Barbie!
Elliot: Whatever you need, Dr. Cox, I'm your girl!
Dr. Cox: Peachy. Now get down to the pharmacy and get me thirty grams of Kayexalate -- and don't dilly-dally around trying to refill your prescription of Prozac, you're on my time now. Go, go, go.
Dr. Cox: Nervous guy.
He stumbles past the nurses to listen to Dr. Cox.
Nurse: Excuse me!
Dr. Cox: Go down to Bed 18 and get me his tox-screen; and you better cross your fingers that the news is good, because if it's not I'm blaming you.
Dr. Cox: And Newbie: I want you to start a drain on the purulent pericarditis in Bed 23 -- now that's a tricky bastard, he's tried to die five times on me already today. Keep an eye on him.
J.D.: I'm your wing man, Maverick!
J.D.: I was watching, uh, 'Top Gun'. Did you know that Goose is actually the guy from 'E.R.'?
Dr. Cox: No, I didn't! But--but, please, keep talking!
J.D.'s Narration: You really do have to keep an eye on things around here, 'cause just when it seems like everything's going great....
J.D.'s Narration: ...that's when the tiniest thing can throw it all out of whack.
Carla takes a fry from Turk's plate.
Turk: What are you doing? When the lunch-lady asked "French fries," you said no.
Carla: Yeah...but I wanted french fries.
Turk: So why didn't you _order_ fries?
Carla: 'Cause I can't _have_ french fries. Duh!
He grabs handfuls of his fries from his plate and throws them onto hers.
Turk: Here. Have 'em all.
Turk: Have a fry salad.
He gets up and leaves.
Carla: Tu--what the? Turk? Baby, come on!
Nurse Roberts sits down at the table.
Nurse Roberts: Girlfriend, you know I can not have french fries.
She takes one off Carla's plate and eats it.
Dr. Kelso: Dr. Dorian, I need a favor.
J.D.: Actually, sir, I'm crazy-busy today.
Dr. Kelso: Well, that's just fine, then, kiddo. I'm not going to be able to make the board meeting today -- I'm going to be tied up all afternoon at Dr. Dorian's pity party. Should I bring something? Maybe I could rent you a clown.
J.D.: A drunk clown hurt me once.
Dr. Kelso: Just listen to the damn lawyer. Go, Tom.
Lawyer: Uh, it's Ted, but hey, it's only been twelve years. This morning, one of the social workers that covers this hospital slipped and [smacks his head] knocked herself unconscious; we're concerned she might turn around and sue us. If that happens, some of the higher-ups' heads could roll!
He laughs at the sweet thought.
Dr. Kelso: The point is that people are less likely to sue an institution if we can put a friendly face on it. You've got a friendly face.
He squeezes J.D.'s cheeks.
J.D.: [muffled] But, sir, I---
Dr. Kelso: Sacred Heart is calling for your help, sport. Will you accept the call? 'Berring!'
Lawyer: Oh! Uh... 'Ber'--uh--'berring'.
Dr. Kelso: By the way, this is a special phone -- if you don't answer it, you get to be the intern who does the physicals over at the state prison!
J.D.: [makes a receiver out of his hand] Hello!
A young woman, Alex, is stretched out on the bed of the machine, her head hidden from view.
J.D.: How are ya, I'm Dr. Dorian.
Alex: Alex Hanson.
She holds out her leg.
J.D. laughs and shakes her ankle.
J.D.: Nice to meet you.
Alex: Ooh, a firm handshake. I like that.
J.D.'s Thoughts: Hellooo.
His beeper goes off.
Mike Davis (from Episode 9) sits on the exam table.
Carla: Mr. Davis; haven't seen you in three months -- it's gotta be a personal record for you.
Mike: Oh, by all means, ignore the dislocated shoulder and let's make small talk.
Carla: This oughtta help with the pain.
She prepares a syringe.
Carla: So...what'd you do?
Mike: Well, some -- ow! -- some random woman just pushed me off the bus; it was totally unprovoked.
Carla: [not buying it] Mr. Davis....
Mike: I may have told her that she smelled like wet ass.
Carla: There ya go -- be proud of who you are.
Mike: You wear too much mascara.
Carla: You be careful, now.
Carla: What are you doing here?
Turk: Cross-covering the day for a buddy of mine, I know---
Carla: Whatever. Thirty-six-year-old male, possible dislocated shoulder.
Turk: All right. So, how are you doing?
Mike: Well, it just got so cold in here, I think the swelling may have gone down. Brrrrr -- ow!
Turk: Yeah, I hope that hurts.
Doug: Oh, no; no, no, no.
Dr. Cox: Is this the tox-screen? Oh, Dougie, this does _not_ bode well for you.
Doug: I know.
Dr. Cox: I'll tell you what: Second chance -- you go get the results of Mr. Churbin's unrinalysis; but if the numbers aren't good, I'm gonna take one of your kidneys and give it to him.
Doug runs off.
Dr. Cox: Ten bucks says I can make that kid wet himself before the day is over.
Nurse Roberts: Oh, everybody's afraid of Mr. Man!
Dr. Cox: Laverne, you give good sass!
Elliot: Dr. Cox! I got the Kayexalate _and_ I pulled all the x-rays you asked for, so I am yours for the night -- do whatever you want with me. Oh! My God! Um, that totally came out wrong! I just--I meant that I want you to use me, and I don't care how degrading it is.
Dr. Cox: What?
Elliot: No...no! No, it's just that I know you like torturing people, and I am totally up for that. [whines] I just want to make you happy!
Nurse Roberts: Marshmallow, hush.
Dr. Cox: This guy needs a lumbar puncture, and I need an extra set of hands. Get over here.
Elliot: Ready and rearing!
Dr. Cox: Not you. Ginger, get the lead out! [whistles] Come on.
J.D.: Excuse me.
Dr. Cox: It puts the lotion on the skin.
J.D.: Oh, so you can do movies and I can't.
Dr. Cox: It puts the damn iodine lotion on the skin -- gimme a break!
Nurse Roberts: Mr. Man!
Dr. Kelso: Dr. Dorian, I owe you an apology. Obviously I was unclear when I said, "Stay in the M.R.I. room with that patient." It must have sounded like, "Leave, and do other things."
J.D. starts to explain, but is interrupted.
Dr. Kelso: Let me rephrase it so there'll be no more confusion: Get your ass back down there!
The M.R.I. Room
J.D. is leaning on the machine, drumming his fingers.
Alex: You have no idea how loud that is in here!
J.D.: Oh, I'm sorry. The good news is you'll be done in a second.
There's a clunking noise from the machine.
Alex: Was that a good sound?!
J.D. looks over at the lab technicians on the other side of the observation window scrambling around to fix the problem.
J.D.: Not that good a sound.
Alex: Oh, my God! Is it stuck!?
J.D.: Well, stuck is such a literal term. It's more like, not moving.
Alex: Well, pull me the hell out of here!
J.D.: I can't; you were knocked unconscious, you could have a serious head injury. Just be glad you're not claustrophobic.
Surprised, J.D. screams, too, then laughs.
Alex: Promise you won't leave me.
J.D.: I promise.
His beeper goes off.
J.D. steps out of the elevator.
J.D.: Dr. Cox must have my pager on speed dial. He's completely on top of me today.
Elliot: Oh, do you know how much I wish Dr. Cox was on top of me?
J.D.: [laughs] That's naughty!
Elliot: You make me so mad, I might actually scream! Every day you bitch and you bitch about how hard Dr. Cox is on you, and you don't even realize that you're his go-to guy.
J.D.: Oh, come on, you're over-reacting a little bit.
Elliot: What has he had you do today? Hm?
J.D.: Ummm.... He had me intubate and extubate Mrs. Pollard; float a Swan on Mr. Caulca; and then do two thoracenteses, a paracentesis, a radial art. line...oh, and then place a transvenous pacemaker for a complete heart-block. Why? What did you do?
Elliot: Oh, uh....
She pulls a cup out of the paper bag she's holding.
Elliot: Cream. No sugar.
J.D.: He takes it sugar, no cream.
Fade to...Treatment Room
Mr. Davis is screaming as Turk and Carla work on his shoulder.
Mike: My arm is breaking! My arm is breaking! Please!
Turk: Okay! Okay! Okay. Okay, it's not going in.
Mike: Really! Why don't we try kicking it?
Turk: I'm gonna go talk to one of the orthopedics.
Turk exits the room.
Mike: Hurry back. God! That guy is the worst!
Carla: Oh, be nice. He's my boyfriend.
Mike: [scoffs] Not for long.
Carla: Excuse me?
Mike: Please! He's been dying to run out of here since the second he came in.
Carla: Oh, he did not _run_ out of here.
Mike: Oh, okay, I'm sorry, you're right -- it wasn't running, it was, uh, fleeing, like he was being chased by a swarm of killer bees.
Turk: Okay, [claps] he said just keep pulling.
Mike: [sarcastic] Oh, well, goody.
Alex: Does this big metal contraption make me look fat?
J.D.: [laughs] More chunky than fat.
As the lab techs work to get the machine going again, there's another clunking noise and a jolt.
Alex: [scared] J.D.!
J.D.: It's all right; I'm right here, I'm right here.
He takes hold of her hand, imagining electric sparks as they touch.
Alex: You're such a nice guy.
J.D.'s Thoughts: Whoa.... It really feels like there's something going on, here. I wonder what she looks like?
- Fantasy Sequence: The tray of the machine withdraws, and Alex turns out to be...Jimmie Walker.
Jimmie Walker: Why am I always in your fantasies!? You got a problem, man!
J.D.: Why are you squeezing all my fingers?
Alex: I'll tell you what I'm not doing: I'm not checking for a wedding ring....
J.D.'s Thoughts: I am so in.
His beeper goes off.
J.D.'s Thoughts: I'm right back out.
Turk: I'm sorry about lunch today; I guess I'm a little over-tired.
Carla: Oh, that's okay, Sweetie. When we get home, you can just go right to bed.
Turk: Yeah, that's the thing -- I'm a little beat, so it might be better if you crash at your place tonight.
They look at him.
Mike: It's a private joke.
J.D.: What now?
Dr. Cox: Watch the attitude, Gidget, or I won't let you go down to the bonfire with the other beach bunnies. Now, I wanna do a once-around to make sure that everybody's....
He continues talking, but is drowned out by....
J.D.'s Narration: Sure, I was probably thinking a little bit about the M.R.I. girl, but I also like to believe that, perfect game or not, giving a friend the chance to shine was just as important to me.
J.D.: Sir, it's, uh, Dr. Kelso -- he's making me baby-sit this patient downstairs.
Dr. Cox: Newbie! It's the bottom of the ninth -- if you're not gonna be my catcher, just exactly who is?
- Fantasy Sequence: Stadium organ music plays as they look over at Elliot, in full catcher's equipment, who crouches down, pounding her mitt.
Dr. Cox: Oh, no.
Unseen Umpire: Play ball!
There's the sound of the crowd cheering and a strike. There's a sound of glass shattering as Elliot misses the catch -- she's oblivious.
Elliot: Come on, baby, right here! Bring it in!
Elliot: Look, Dr. Cox, you can trust me to help you. For gosh sakes, I was top five in my class!
Dr. Cox: Enggghhh! That's the noise I make when somebody lies to me.
Elliot: Okay! I was eighth -- but I can do this! I'll get us this perfect---
Dr. Cox: Don't say it!
Elliot: ...The perfect game!
Dr. Cox: No, don't say---! What part of "don't say it" did you not understand? Was is the "don't"? Or was it the "say it"? Help me to help you, Barbie. Help me to help you; help me to help you; help me to help you.
Elliot: I, um...should get to work.
Dr. Cox: That would be lovely.
Dr. Cox: Wow!
J.D.: Hey, Elliot, do you---
Elliot: No time!
J.D.'s Thoughts: We all have important things to do.
J.D.: Hey, do you know what Alex Hanson looks like?
Doug: He's okay.
Nurse Roberts: I don't know. I don't look at the ladies.
Dr. Kelso: Young man, I've been married for over three decades. I would've gone there, though; oh, yes, I would've.
Janitor: Who cares? No one'll ever love you.
Lawyer: I don't find her pretty; but since my wife left, when I look at a woman, I find it hard to see past the evil. Heh.
Carla and Turk are struggling with Mr. Davis' shoulder.
Carla: I know something's wrong.
Turk: Nothing's wrong.
Carla: You always say nothing's wrong, then you sulk for a week and then you finally tell me.
Turk: First of all, we haven't known each other long enough for me to "always" be doing anything.
Mike: Well, I've only known you for ten minutes, and you're always hurting me.
Carla: Oh, so now you're getting defensive?
Turk: Woman, I am _not_ defensive.
Mike: Yeah, y'are, a little bit.
Carla: Turk, we're stuck here, why don't you just take a deep breath and tell me what's wrong?
There's a snapping sound.
Mike: OW! That did it!
Turk: Well, I guess we're done here.
Dr. Cox: Barbie, plates are wobbling everywhere.
Elliot: His H & H dropped three grams, so I'm starting pressers.
Dr. Cox: Or, you could transfuse him.
Elliot: Okay, I'll do that.
Dr. Cox: Although, transfusions are riskier.
Elliot: Which is why my first instinct was to do pressers.
Dr. Cox: You know what they say about your first instincts.
Elliot: Yeah: You should always stick with them. Shouldn't you?
Dr. Cox: Should you?
Elliot: Should I?
Dr. Cox: "Should I?" You'll have plenty of time to think about it on the bench, because that's where you're headed. Now go. Gimme this, precious. [takes the chart] Get outta here. Go ahead. Go, go.
Dr. Cox: Hippity-hop to the barber shop.
She sulks off.
Dr. Cox: [to self] "Should I?" [groans]
Carla: You want to know what she looks like...did she ask what you look like?
J.D.: No, she can tell I'm handsome -- I have a husky voice: [a'la the Big Bopper] "Hellllooo, baby!"
Carla: Well, why don't you look into your heart and see how it feels?
J.D.: My heart hates uggos.
Carla: You know what, that's exactly what's wrong with you men. You're all so superficial, so afraid of what you really feel. I'm so sick of it!
J.D.: So, do you know what she looks like?
Carla: Yeah, I do. But I ain't telling you.
J.D.: Ohh.... Come on, just tell me, does she look anything like Jimmie Walker?
Lawyer: You know, I'm noticing that the bottoms of your slippers are rather slick -- perhaps they contributed in some way to the incident this morning.
Dr. Kelso: Those are hospital booties, you moron!
Lawyer: And now I'm a moron.
J.D. comes in.
Dr. Kelso: Dr. Dorian! Why don't you take Miss Hanson out for a lovely dinner?
Alex: Dr. Kelso, I'm not suing the hospital.
Dr. Kelso: Oh!
Alex: [continuing] It turns out I only have a mild concussion, and plus, I work here and that's---
J.D.: Uhh, Alex, he's gone.
Alex: Oh. So, what, uh, restaurant are you taking me to?
J.D.'s Thoughts: You know, you're not a bad guy if you wanna wait and see what she looks like.
Alex: I'm kidding! [laughs] You don't have to take me out to dinner.
J.D.: Ohhh....ohh....are you sure? 'Cause....okay.
His beeper goes off.
J.D.: Ah! I gotta go. Sorry.
He exits the room.
Alex: Hey, yeah, yeah, don't sweat it -- I mean, we'll see each other around. J.D., listen, I'm really glad that you were---
Lawyer: Miss Hanson, he's gone.
Lawyer: You know, if I were in your slippers, I'd sue this hospital for all it's worth.
Lawyer: We could run away together.
J.D. is sitting in one of the chairs next to the couch, stretched across which is Turk.
J.D.: Come on, dude, you know what to do: You just gotta be straight with Carla, no matter how hard it is.
Turk: I hate this part.
He gets up and leaves. Elliot comes in and takes his place on the couch.
Elliot: I just don't know what to do about Dr. Cox!
J.D.: What the hell is going on, here?
Elliot: It's like, I say one thing, he says the other. I seriously can't take it anymore.
J.D.: Fine, why don't you just quit, become a lesbian, and hook up with some hot model?
Elliot: What does that have to do with anything?
J.D.: I don't know...I just thought it'd be hot. Elliot, he's testing you. If you ever want Cox to respect you, you can't be afraid to disagree with him.
Elliot: You're afraid.
J.D.: But I still do it. Get back in the game, Elliot.
He gets up and leaves her with her thoughts.
Five For Fighting's "Easy Tonight" montage: Elliot and Dr. Cox slave hard all night to attain the perfect game.
The song concludes at the end of their attempt to save a flat-line.
Dr. Cox: Ah! Dammit!
He slams the defibrillator paddles into the tray and turns off the squealing monitor.
Dr. Cox: Dammit! Dammit! So close! DAMMIT!
She stares at him.
Dr. Cox: I'm sorry. I'm fine.
He bashes some equipment across the room.
Dr. Cox: Perfect game! ...Call it.
Elliot: Just five minutes left, and it's just the two of us here! Couldn't we just...wait?
Dr. Cox: Just...call it.
He strips off his gloves and starts out the door.
Elliot: No. We all need this, so no. I won't call it.
Dr. Cox: You know, that's probably the dumbest thing anybody's said to me around here in a long time. There's nothing wrong with a one-hitter, there, Barbie. In fact, it's miraculous. And I won't have you of all people cheapen what should be an endless pursuit of perfection just because you want the world to laugh with you tonight. Now, call it.
Elliot: [bitterly, as she pulls off her gloves] Time of death: 11:55.
Dr. Cox: Good girl. Better go get yourself a cup of coffee -- new game starts in four minutes.
Turk: Hey, Carla. Carla.... Wait! Where're you going?
Carla: I'm gonna go crash at my place tonight, like you said!
Turk: You wanna know what's wrong? _That's_ what's wrong: [whinily mimicking her] "I'm gonna go stay at m'place like you said."
Carla: God, you're so sexy right now.
Turk: I've been doing a lot of thinking, and, you know...we're past that whole new, exciting relationship phase, and...all that's left is us. Baby, I gotta tell you: You drive me crazy. All right? You take my french fries; you--you boss me around in front of my friends---
Carla: You said strong women turn you on!
Turk: Forget about it.
Carla: Look, we all know what you're gonna do, so why not be a man and do it so I can go home?
Turk: I love you. You annoy me more than I ever thought possible, but...I want to spend every irritating minute with you.
Carla: Me too.
Carla: I love you.
Turk: Hey, I don't get it, though; why are you doing this to me? All I wanted to do was have sex with a foxy nurse, and...and now I'm in love?
Carla: Mm...Sweetie...it happens.
J.D.'s Narration: I've been thinking a lot lately about taking chances.
Dr. Cox: I want you to run a tox-screen and a full blood work-up for the guy in 37 -- you can handle all that, right?
Dr. Cox: Good girl. Up on the second floor, holy cow, there's a laundry list of stuff I want you to do....
J.D.'s Narration: ...And how it's really just about overcoming your fears. Because the truth is, every time you take a big risk in your life, no matter how it ends up, you're always glad you took it.
The M.R.I. Room
The lab techs have fixed the machine, Alex is slowly emerging.
J.D. runs in.
J.D.: Wait! Stop the machine!
He slaps the button.
Alex: What the hell are you doing!?
J.D.: Will you go out with me?
Alex: If I say no, will you still let me out of this thing?
J.D.: It's iffy.
Alex: Then I guess I have to say yes, don't I?
J.D.: So, say it.
Alex: Sure. I'd love to.
He pushes the button again, and the tray slides out.
He finally gets his first glimpse of her...but we do not.