Dr. Baylor: Will Smith?
Will: Yeah.
Dr. Baylor: I'll be performing your surgery.
Will: Whoa. No, you won't, man. I want my regular doctor. When can I see Dr. Bennett?
Dr. Baylor: In five-to-10 years. Oh, come on, relax. I'm Dr. Baylor and I'm eminently qualified to perform this operation. Where are my glasses? Oh, hell. Nurse, did they close up Miss Henderson yet? Never mind. Never mind. But check my locker for my beeper, will you? All right, Mr. Smith, open your mouth.
Will: Yo, my man, your beeper ain't in here.
Dr. Baylor: Oh, come on, let me look at those tonsils. Well, so much for golf tomorrow.
Will: Hey, Doc, y'all just gonna take the tonsils, right?
Dr. Baylor: Hey, I got big plans for everything else.
Will: Trust me. You're in the hands of a capable doctor. [goes into the bathroom] I've got to find those glasses.
Will: God please don't let me leave here with breasts.