Ted: So, you're engaged to that surgeon guy?
Carla: Mm-hmm.
Ted: Is it serious?
Carla: No, Ted. We swing.
[Ted celebrates]

Carla: Hey. You guys know that unbelievably handsome new anesthesiologist?
J.D.: Yes.
Turk: No.
J.D.: No.
Carla: Well, he didn't know I was engaged, so he asked me out to a movie tonight.
Turk: Well, if he's paying, give a brother some Snow Caps!
Carla: Turk, why don't you ever get jealous?
Turk: Woman, look at me! How can someone with all of this here be jealous of any of that out there!

J.D.: Mrs. Farr. You know what? The only way I'm gonna figure out what's wrong with this woman is start running tests for everything.
Carla: Good luck, Bambi. Look at the time.
J.D.: [v.o.] In a hospital, you can never try to get anything done Friday after 5 P.M. Because anyone who can actually help you is out of here like a gunshot.
J.D.: Hello? Anyone? [guy dances] Have a good weekend, Steven.

Dr. Cox: That's, uh, that's my son.
Prisoner: He's adorable. Can I keep it?
Dr. Cox: No. No you- You certainly may not! Bad man.

J.D.: Look, I know you're the only x-ray tech on tonight, all right? But I just need a quick abdominal scan to make sure Mrs. Farr doesn't have an obstruction.
Laddy: Uh-uh-uh! Don't want to know who they are! Don't want to know how they're doing! Just wanna go "click-click!" and get 'em out of here! Now, your lady's about forty people down on the list. And as always, uh, there are no cutsies.
J.D.: Damn! Look, uh. There's gotta be something I can do.
[later:]
Laddy: See, because of the way I laid on top of you, I can tell people this is an x-ray of Siamese twins! How cool is that!
J.D.: It's so cool, Laddy, let's never talk to anyone about it, ever!

Turk: I don't understand how you think you can get this cardiologist to do an echo-cardiogram for us.
Carla: I've worked in the Cath. Lab before. I understand how these guys think. Plus I had a one-nighter with him a long time ago.
Turk: Okay! Oh-ho-ho! You're telling me this guy in here got tasty treats?
Carla: Turk! I worked here eight years before you showed up. I had sexual needs.
Turk: Okay, first of all, that's disgusting.

Carla: So, Mitchell, I guess I was just hoping that you would help us out with this patient, Mrs. Farr.
Mitchell: Carla, love to, really, but, uh, it's already six and it's my son's birthday tonight.
Carla: How old is he?
Mitchell: He's ten.
Carla: And how long ago was that night that you told me you were single and you took me dancing?
Mitchell: Eight years. I'll see you in the patient's room.

Jordan: Don't you love the outfit?
Dr. Cox: You know, I always wanted to be the father of a tiny gay sailor. Jordan, come on, we agreed that we would wait until he's quite a bit older before we started systematically ruining his life, right? Right?
Jordan: I may have painted his toenails for funsies.

J.D.: [v.o.] It feels good to work as a team and gather all the pieces of the puzzle together so we can finally look Mrs. Farr in the face and tell her... We still don't know what the hell she has.
J.D.: Dammit, why can't we figure out what's wrong with this lady?
Dr. Cox: All right, you guys. What do you know so far?
Carla: The echo ruled out an aortic dissection.
Turk: The abdominal CT would have shown if it was biliary disease.
Dr. Cox: Think. What's her background?
Elliot: Persian Sephardic Jew.
Dr. Cox: Aw, come on, you guys, gimme a break. You know this.
J.D.: Familial Mediterranean fever.
Dr. Cox: Atta boy.
J.D.: [v.o.] I'm actually grateful most things don't change.