J.D.: I think Dr. Cox would be more willing to help if he knew it was his baby.
[fantasy: Dr. Cox's head on the baby]
Dr. Cox: What do you say, Stephanie? How about you step up to the plate and tell the guy. My God, I'm only three weeks old and already I've got more stones than you do. One of mine hasn't even dropped yet.
J.D.: It's not my place to tell.
Dr. Cox: Whaa! Whaa! Whaa!
[reality:]
Dr. Cox: Newbie, I know that your ovaries are absolutely tingling at the furry sight of this little fellow, but you gotta snap out of it.

J.D.: [v.o.] Since the geriatric wing was being remodeled, Turk and I were herding old people to their new rooms.
J.D.: That's a closet, Mr. Jenkins. Come on, Mr. Benedetti, you're only a few thousand tiny steps away.
Turk: J.D., we need to find a way to move these gomers faster.
[fantasy: J.D. leads the old people on a miniature train as The O'Jays "Love Train" plays:]
J.D.: All aboard! The love train.
[reality:]
J.D.: That was a fun fantasy. I wish it didn't have to end.

J.D.: [v.o.] I couldn't really worry about bailing on Dr. Cox. The Stanleys' child was sick and I had just spent the last 20 minutes asking them awkward questions to rule out the possibility of child abuse.
Mrs. Stanley: Who would smother their own child?
J.D.: You'd be surprised. There's something called Munchausen Syndrome, where a parent will intentionally harm their child to get some attention on themselves.
Mrs. Stanley: I've never heard of that. Someone should do a public service announcement about it.
J.D.: [v.o.] Hmm. Someone should.
[fantasy: J.D. hosts an NBC "the more you know" public service announcement:]
J.D.: Had a tough day at the office, so you come home, make yourself some dinner, smother your kids, pop in a movie, maybe have a drink. It's fun, right? Wrong. Don't smother your kids.
[reality:]
J.D.: That problem would be gone forever.

J.D.: [v.o.] There is not a doctor in the world that would disagree with Brian Dancer when he said.
Brian: Head wounds suck. I mean, I feel better but I still can't concentrate, and my motor skills are shot. Hell, I can't even write.
Ann Chase: Hi, Brian.
[fantasy: J.D. sees the attractive woman with angel wings behind her back and warm lighting]
J.D.: [v.o.] Oh, my God. It's an angel.
Nurse Roberts: That nasty burlesque dancer with syphilis forgot her damn ostrich feathers.
J.D.: We're little busy in here, Laverne.
[fantasy: Nurse Roberts flies away with the wings]
J.D.: That was a weird one.

Turk: Wanna know what animal parts I'd want?
J.D.: I could guess.
[fantasy:]
J.D.: Man, there's no milk for my coffee.
Turk: Say no more. [squeezes udder]
J.D.: Thanks, Pal!
Turk: You're welcome. - You know what'd go great with that coffee?
J.D.: What's that?
Turk: [screams]
J.D.: Turky Bacon!
Turk: Yep!
[present:]
J.D.: You'd be like a big breakfast machine!

Maggie: So, how bad is it gonna be?
Turk: Well, you're gonna lose the dead tissue, but thanks to modern medicine you're gonna keep most of your foot. You won't believe how much worse it would've been even a few years ago.
[medieval fantasy: Maggie is tied down, with a plank of wood in her mouth, as Turk hovers over her with a saw:]
Maggie: [screams]
Turk: This might hurteth a little.
J.D.: Look, milady, I know it stinks that we're removing your foot and plan to eat it tonight at the healing feast, but you wouldn't believeth how much worse it would've been, even a few years ago.
[cave-age fantasy:]
Maggie: [complaining grunts]
[After Turk and J.D. talk to each other, Turk knocks Maggie out with his club. J.D. then knocks Turk out with his club. The Scrubs sad theme plays as caveman J.D. thinks about what he's done.]
J.D.: [v.o.] Onga bonga tonga ronga, gatanga batanga banga.
[reality:]
J.D.: I may have killed you, but I think I was upset about it.

J.D.: Well, where is it? Did you at least keep it?
Turk: Why would I keep my testicle?
[fantasy: J.D. and Turk have a dug a whole in the ground:]
J.D.: These conditions are perfect. [they drop the testicle and cover it with dirt]
[months later, a naked version of Turk, with a leaf covering his privates, has sprouted from the ground]
J.D.: He's beautiful.
Turk: Oh, my God. This is totally awesome. Can you go pick up Carla's dry cleaning so I can play basketball?
Plant Turk: [mumbles]
Turk: It can't talk. What the hell am I gonna do with that?
J.D.: Stop, Turk. You're making him cry. It's okay, Plant Turk. Friends.
Plant Turk: [mumbles "friend"]
J.D.: See? He's learning.
[Plant Turk grabs J.D.]
J.D.: Get the clippers! Get the clippers!
Turk: Let him go! Let him go!
[reality:]
J.D.: We have to find your ball, Turk. We have to find it and destroy it.
Turk: You don't realize that Carla and Elliot left, do you?

J.D.: [v.o.] Step two: Just keep babbling until he finally opens up.
J.D.: I don't know how I wanna go, but I do know what I want down with my remains.
[fantasy: Carla and Turk are sitting on the couch. Turk is holding an urn in his hands:]
Carla: Are you really comfortable watching TV like this?
Turk: Is it Rowdy?
Carla: No.
Turk: Is it J.D.?
[A stuffed J.D. is on all fours on the floor next to Rowdy]
Carla: Yes!
Turk: You'll get used to it. [opens urn] Pretzel?
Carla: You gotta stop bringing him into our bedroom.
[reality:]
J.D.: I'll teach you how to do my hair.
Turk: I already know how to do your hair.
J.D.: It's not an Afro, Turk, you can't just pick it.

Turk: Elliot turfed this chronic pain patient to me. I have no idea what's wrong with him, so I have to do exploratory surgery.
J.D.: [v.o.] I always wondered what exploratory surgery was like.
[fantasy:]
Turk: I've made the first incision. I'm going in.
[Turk jumps into the patient's surgical cavity:]
Turk: Nurse, hat! Colon. Why'd it have to be the colon? Removing the golden tumor.
[As darts start flying, Turk pops his head out of the cavity.]
Turk: Ladies.
[The nurses, covered in darts, fall down]
Turk: They knew the risks.
[reality:]
J.D.: Watch out for colon darts.

Mr. Ketay: Why aren't you making a bigger fuss?
J.D.: Uh, I would have, Mr. Ketay, but Dr. Reid is throwing a huge celebration for you later.
J.D.: [v.o.] I should tell her about that. The truth is, thanks to modern medicine, 80 isn't that big a deal anymore. It's not like the olden days.
[fantasy, J.D. and a family of pilgrims at a cemetery:]
J.D.: Let us not feel sorrow for Bobby Adams. He was 12. He led a full life. He will be missed. Especially by his beautiful wife, Jenny, who stood by him, even when he turned six, had a mid-life crisis, and was caught banging one of those naked people that brought us corn.
[reality:]
J.D.: I'd be the oldest man in Pilgrim Village.