J.D.: [v.o.] My last week of residency had begun. In seven days I'd be a full-fledged doctor. It felt pretty special to me, and I had a hunch it meant a lot to one other person as well.
Dr. Cox: Yes, milady?
J.D.: So, you felling all, like, bleaaah?
Dr. Cox: That depends, does "bleaaah" mean confused and incredibly annoyed?
J.D.: Come on, man, it's our last week together. The J.D. and Cox train is pulling into the station. You must have a metaphor you want to use. Hit me with it.
Dr. Cox: I suppose I could riff a list of things that I care as little about as our last week together. Let me see... Uh, low-carb diets, Michael Moore, the Republican National Convention, Kabbalah and all Kabbalah-related products, Hi-def TV, the Bush daughters, wireless hot spots, 'The O.C.', the U.N., recycling, getting Punk'd, Danny Gans, the Latin Grammys, the real Grammys. Jeff, that Wiggle who sleeps too darn much. The Yankees payroll, all the red states, all the blue states, every hybrid car, every talk show host, everything on the planet, everything in the solar system, everything, everything, everything, everything, everything, everything that exists - past, present and future, in all discovered and undiscovered dimensions. Oh! And Hugh Jackman.
J.D.: Hugh Jackman's Wolverine. How dare he.