Dr. Cox: Fine, I don't want to go home, anyway.
J.D.: He said in a sarcastic tone we've all come to know as "Coxsian."
Dr. Cox: I mean it. I don't want to go home. Ever since Jordan entered her third trimester, she has become a needy, bloated behemoth with a temper as big as her tree trunk-size cankles. And besides, even if I did go home, she'd probably just send me out on a food run to satiate one of her insane cravings.
[fantasy: Dr. Cox returns home with goat for Jordan to feast on:]
Dr. Cox: Honey, I brought you some dinner.
Jordan: [o.s.] Come here, little goaty goaty! [spatter]
[Dr. Cox drags the goats head out of the door]
Jordan: I wasn't finished!
Dr. Cox: You're finished.