Mr. Hoffner: So, are you a good surgeon?
Turk: I'm capable.
Mr. Hoffner: Capable. I'm not sure I want the surgery.
Dr. Cox: Gandhi. A word. Look at me. I know what you're doing in there. You think that if you act like Dr. Sad Sack that the patient's gonna opt out of surgery, and I'll have to spend yet another week with a man who has such an unnatural attachment to his gallbladder, that left to his own devices, he would rent a motel room and have sex with it. Now come on I need you to sling that, "I'm gonna get freaky-deeky with my chisel and- and swizzle up the dizzle for my bee-ai-itch" Stuff that you know, you do so well.
Turk: Sorry, I'm not that guy anymore.
Mr. Hoffner: Are you sure I don't need my gallbladder?
Dr. Cox: Oh. Dear. Lord.