J.D.: [v.o.] My last week of residency had begun. In seven days I'd be a full-fledged doctor. It felt pretty special to me, and I had a hunch it meant a lot to one other person as well.
Dr. Cox: Yes, milady?
J.D.: So, you felling all, like, bleaaah?
Dr. Cox: That depends, does "bleaaah" mean confused and incredibly annoyed?
J.D.: Come on, man, it's our last week together. The J.D. and Cox train is pulling into the station. You must have a metaphor you want to use. Hit me with it.
Dr. Cox: I suppose I could riff a list of things that I care as little about as our last week together. Let me see... Uh, low-carb diets, Michael Moore, the Republican National Convention, Kabbalah and all Kabbalah-related products, Hi-def TV, the Bush daughters, wireless hot spots, 'The O.C.', the U.N., recycling, getting Punk'd, Danny Gans, the Latin Grammys, the real Grammys. Jeff, that Wiggle who sleeps too darn much. The Yankees payroll, all the red states, all the blue states, every hybrid car, every talk show host, everything on the planet, everything in the solar system, everything, everything, everything, everything, everything, everything that exists - past, present and future, in all discovered and undiscovered dimensions. Oh! And Hugh Jackman.
J.D.: Hugh Jackman's Wolverine. How dare he.

J.D.: You know, Molly, I appreciate the offer, but there's a very special doctor I use around here when I need help, and he'd be pretty pissed if I didn't come to him first.
[later:]
Dr. Cox: Why, Mariska? Why do you insist on bothering me with these things?
J.D.: Please, you know you love it. Now, come on, one more time for nostalgia's sake: You come see my patient, you teach me a lesson, and then the music plays, right? In my head, it sounds like this... [hums Scrubs sad melody]
Carla: Dr. Cox, can I borrow you for a minute?
Dr. Cox: Borrow me? Dear heart, you'd be rescuing me. Newbie, you're on your own. Get used to it.
[The Scrubs sad melody plays]
J.D.: [hums along]

J.D.: Look, Dr. Cox, I know you were using reverse psychology with Mr. Radford.
Dr. Cox: You do, do you?
J.D.: Yes. And I figured it out all by myself, without anyone helping me or explaining it directly in my face or anything.
Dr. Cox: Well, nubile one, your last lesson and you didn't even need it. Three years and it's finally over. I know what you want, I do. [opens arms] Come here.
J.D.: [v.o.] Oh, my God, it's finally happening! Don't miss a moment! Take it all in! [hums Scrubs sad melody]
Dr. Cox: [whistles] Good God, Fantasia. You don't actually think I'm done teaching you, do you? Do you not understand the only difference between today and tomorrow is that you wake up tomorrow and start coming in here and killing people, that no one can say, "It's no big deal, he's just a resident." Instead, what they're damn sure gonna be wondering is who tried to educate your sorry ass. And when that finger of blame starts pointing in my direction, I had damn sure better be in a coma from the anger stroke I suffered from the last time you tried to hug me. Oh, and, uh, don't be late tomorrow, Doctor.