Carla: So, how you holding up?
Janitor: Cleaning's an art. My mop was my paintbrush.
J.D.: [v.o.] Oh no, it's the first time I've seen the janitor since he was fired. I have to seem like I care. Think of the saddest thing you can. Turk's dead, Turk's dead, Turk's dead, Turk's de- Oh, my God! What if something really happened to him? I'd be lost! Stop thinking like that. Turk's fine! Turk's fine, Turk's fine, Turk's fine, Turk's fine!
Carla: J.D.! The janitor got fired.
Janitor: No, it's okay. He knows, he just doesn't care. See, in his mind, I'm the bad guy in our relationship, even though if he stopped to think about it for a minute, he would realize I never did a thing to him that he didn't deserve.
J.D.: You locked me in a water tower.
Janitor: You wrote on the wall.
J.D.: You destroyed my scooter, Sasha.
Janitor: You know I hate Wednesdays.
J.D.: You haunted my pediatric patients.
Janitor: You didn't wear the shorts that my imaginary wife made for you.