Category: Season 2
Do you know how I know that this is yours, Farrah? ‘Cause when I paged you earlier, someone found it next to a can of Fresca and a dog-eared copy of Teen People magazine. Anyway — long story, short: The whole incident gave me a bang-up idea; because, you see, I’ve got tomorrow off. So I’m gonna be on my couch, sipping on some scotch and paging you every twenty seconds. And if you don’t answer every damn last one of ‘em, I’m gonna shove this thing so far down your throat it’s gonna make you take a tinkle every time it goes off. — Big fun, right?
Listen, Newbie, I don’t tell you I respect you a lot because, well, I don’t.
Congratulations. You get to represent the Kelso Kennel Club at the big show in Reno. Just remember, when you are posing and prancing in front of the judges, to keep that shaved behind of yours held up nice and high like the proud little puppy that you are. Then when it comes time to hand out those blue ribbons, it’ll be such an exciting time for you – it really will be – but for the love of God, Newbie, you gotta try, try, try not to squeeze out a dookie on the astroturf. Because, uh, I mean, God forbid you were ever an embarrassment to Master Bob, right?
in the history of medicine, there’s never actually been a patient that depressing. I made it up! Come on, now, Barbie; you keep going down this road, you’re gonna go up to the roof of this hospital and jump the hell off. Mind you, it’s only five stories high, so that means you’ll just wind up back down here, where I, of course, will be the one who has to treat you, and then I’ll be forced to jump off the roof of this hospital, which, as I was suggesting to you, is only five stories high, and are you starting to see a pattern forming here?
Barbie, as long as you stay and work at this hospital, I’m always gonna be your superior…. That’s just the way it goes. Don’t get me wrong, you can keep trying to connect with me; I mean, hell, you’re…you’re so damn entertaining you just might make some head-way. But still, you might be better served — and, this is a crazy notion — if you could stop worrying so much about who does and doesn’t notice…you. Even for a second…that’d be good; that’d be real good.
Listen closely, Tiny Dancer: I wouldn’t be flapping my mouth if I’d forgotten to get a blood culture on Mr. Blair. And, for the love of God, do you at least remember what you were doing the day they were passing out common sense? Oh, gosh, maybe you were running late that day ’cause you just couldn’t find the right thong for those low-rider jeans that you love so much, or maybe you were busy bopping along to whatever boy band really makes your heart race nowadays, and you just drove on by. ‘Course, I don’t know, I’m just guessing, but one things’ sure-shootin’: you wound up at the dumb-dumb store and you just went ahead and put so much of that into the car that you could fit, didn’t ya?
And for the hundredth time: You’re right, you had absolutely nothing to do with me getting involved in this Mrs. Bumbry case. But, for God’s sake, Carla, the much bigger problem facing us right now is just exactly how do we get you to stop annoying me?
Here you’ve put me in a tough situation: I can’t honestly decide whether to say, Duh,” uh, “Doy,” or a very sarcastic, “Oh, really?” My God, Fiona, I know it wasn’t your fault; hell, the patient probably knows! But he seemed a little distraught, like maybe being able to blame somebody for a second or two just might make him feel a little better? And, I know, maybe it’s me, but doesn’t that seem like something that goes right along with wearing that fancy white coat? It…does, doesn’t it.”
For your information, I attended that poor vegetable’s funeral every single time I set foot in his room over the last six weeks. Thank God the family finally moved him over to Surgery, where you guys were good enough to help him kick that nasty oxygen habit he had once and for all.
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Let me guess, you’re off to another funeral. I’ll make you a deal — you come with me right now, and if you’re still late for the graveyard, I will personally scour the obituaries with you this weekend and you can just go nuts!