J.D.: [v.o.] As a third-year resident, you know everyone so well you can practically speak for them. For instance... [Turk:] Remember: No more dancing. Pow! [Carla:] Good morning, Bambi. Sign this, please? [Janitor] Who you eyeballing, tough guy? [J.D.:] And of course... [Dr. Cox:] Well, Zsa Zsa. Now you've put me in quite the pickle. You see with those earphones on, you can't hear me, but! The odds are highly against you cracking open that yapper and annoying me today. So, what to do? What to do? What to do? Ah, hell-
Dr. Cox: Stop addressing me as "Dr. Cox" in front of your patients. When they find out my actual name, they tend to page me with questions when they realize just exactly how inept you really are. Oh, and as an added safety measure, from now on, I'll only be responding to "Doc," "Doctor," "Caesar," or "The Big Cheese;" and no, I'm not joking. Not now. Not ever.