Kim: This sucks. I mean, the hardest decision I've had to make in the last year was what hairstyle to get. And even then, all I did was open up an US Magazine, close my eyes and pick a random celebrity.
J.D.: Kirsten Dunst?
Kim: Owen Wilson.
J.D.: Oh.

Carla: Elliot, I can't do it!
Elliot: Okay, I want you to imagine that your uterus is like a tube of toothpaste, and you're just trying to squeeze out all that minty fresh gel. But instead of minty fresh gel inside, there's a little black baby. [Carla swings for Elliot, who dodges]

Turk: [answers phone] Hey, baby, look, I- Yeah, he, he's right here. [to J.D.] She won't talk to me.
J.D.: Hi. Yes, I know he missed your wedding, too. All right, hold on. [slaps Turk] That was from her, not me.
Turk: Go.
Janitor: Relax, I'll have him out in one second. [holding saw] All right, hold still. Nobody likes a jagged stump.
Turk: No!
Janitor: [on the phone] He's being unreasonable. Okay. [slaps Turk twice] That was from me.

Jack: [to a woman] You're a fatty fatty fatty fatty fatty fatty fatty fatty fatty!
Woman: What's your son doing?
Dr. Cox: Apparently he's doing the "fatty dance." Inappropriate? Well, maybe. But I'm raising my son to be a straight-shooter. That's his mom, right over there.
Jordan: Oh, thanks for including me.

Turk: Is he coming? Is he coming!?
Elliot: Turk, she's barely in labor.
Carla: Oh, he's not talking about the baby.
[J.D. enters]
Turk: He's here! And now we can have our baby!
J.D.: Okay, Brown Bear, commence Operation Brown Cub! Suitcase!
Turk: Check.
J.D.: Stylish big daddy hat!
Turk: Check.
J.D.: Big-time collegiate drum-line!
[outside:]
Turk: Check! I want the whole world to know my baby's having a baby! [dances]
Carla: Maybe we should just take your car!

J.D.: Okay, ladies, we're here; calm down.
Carla: What the hell took you so long? Oh, my God, did you stop for food?
Turk: We had to, honey. J.D. promised the band that we'd feed them.
[flashback to Turk and J.D. in a car, followed by the marching band, at a drive-thru:]
J.D.: Yeah, let me get twenty-three cheeseburgers, twenty-three milkshakes. Miguel, if you don't stop drumming, you're not getting fries. Twenty-three fri- You know what, twenty-two fries. Twenty-two fries. You didn't think I'd do it, did you.
[present:]
J.D.: Miguel has such raw talent, but his attitude keeps getting in the way.

Carla: Turk, you brought my suitcase, right?
Turk: Of course I have your suitcase, honey.
[later:]
J.D.: What are you doing?
Turk: Sometimes when you need a miracle, you have to pray extra-extra hard. You wanna help me out?
J.D.: Fo' shizzle.
[elsewhere, a dog picks up Carla's suitcase from outside the apartment building. The dog runs through the forest. Then up the steps of the hospital and over to Turk and J.D. The dog drops the bag by Turk's feet while his eyes are stilled closed. A homeless man steals the bag.]
Turk: Nothing!

Elliot: It's okay, Carla, because I packed you an extra overnight bag, you're all checked in, and I got you an orderly to take you to your room.
Jordan: Yeah, I'm only four months pregnant, ace.
Carla: Oh, yeah, I think you're looking for me.
Jordan: Move it along before I eat you! Chop chop.

Dr. Cox: Ah. Sorry, Jack, the machine's broken. Looks like you're gonna have to guzzle your juice down without any ice. Pretend, um. You know, pretend it's gin.
Jack: What's gin?
Dr. Cox: Gin is an alcoholic beverage which, if your mommy's strong genes are any indication, you'll eventually learn to love as it slowly destroys a giant portion of your adult life.

Jordan: First the fat lady, now this? He's three, Perry! Do you have to be so blunt with him?
Dr. Cox: I'm not gonna B.S. my own kid. What's the big deal?
Dr. Kelso: Hiya, sport!
Jack: Your skin is wrinkly.
Dr. Kelso: Yeah? Well that shirt you're wearing is gay!