J.D.: Keep it light. Open with a joke, and before you know it, you and your raft will be on a 4-hour trip to New Zealand.
Jake: No, it's more like 14 hours.
J.D.: [v.o.] Oh, no, you're dangerously close to revealing that geography is your Achilles heel. Say something smart to regain credibility.
J.D.: Vaso-vagal syncope is mediated by the autonomic nervous system. And Betty needs you, pal. She does. Come on. Do it. You'll feel good. Trust me.
Jake: Trust you? You don't even know where New Zealand is.
J.D.: You can dance your way there from Old Zealand.
Jake: You an idiot?

Carla: Anyway, I worry that sometimes when I'm tense, I could be a little condescending.
Therapist: Actually, I've noticed that.
Carla: Have you really noticed it, "Mr. Therapist"?!

J.D.: Just go, Jake. No one here knows your last name. If anything happens, they'll never be able to find you. Go enjoy your little rafting thing in New Zealand. Which, incidentally, is 10,000 miles east of Australia and famous for alcoholism and clam chowder. I've been brushing up on my New Zealand.
Jake: You've been brushing up on New England.
J.D.: Well, go anyway. Wherever it is you're rafting.