Scrubs (2001–2010): Season 7, Episode 1 - My Own Worst Enemy - full transcript

In the aftermath of their near-indiscretion, Elliot realizes she doesn't want to be with Keith and J.D. resolves to stop sabotaging himself. Meanwhile, Dr. Cox and Turk find a patient they both like who is in danger of being discharged.

So there we were.

Elliot about to get married,

me about to have a baby with Kim,

careening toward a kiss.

We were both terrified
because either one of us

could back out at the last second,

leaving the other kissing
the air and feeling like a fool.

Ah, the point of no return.

The closing of the eyes.

Time to dine.


J.D., what are we doing?

How the hell did she do that?

Look, what almost happened
in there is not about us.

Of course not. Please. Us.

I mean, we're both just on the verge
of making giant commitments

and, as usual, we're freaking out.

You're right. And you know what?
We can't let fear

screw up our relationships.

Who wants to end up
like Snoop Dogg Intern?

- Hey.
- Sorry. Snoop Dogg Resident.

- Hey.
- Snoop Dogg Attending?

- That's right, baby.
- All right.

The point is he hasn't told Josephine

that she gives him
wowsers in his trousers.

Hey, be cool. Be cool, man.
I'm working on it. Okay?

I'm with you, dawg. Just keep it real.

- What do we do now?
- Nothing.

Nothing happened, so
we never have to speak of this again.

- Hey.
- Keith?



Wait, I was already surprised out loud.

I was lonely at home,
so I decided to come by and say hi.

And then I had one of those
weird, crystallising moments

when everything becomes so clear.

I mean, I should've been relieved
that Keith hadn't shown up earlier

and walked in on J.D. And me,
but I wasn't.

I wish he had caught us,
because the truth is...

I don't want to marry him.

- Shut up!
- Oh!

Honestly, I think I let it get this far

because of how much
I want to be married, you know?

God, I want to be married.


Hey, I'm sorry for barging in so late.

I hope I didn't interrupt
anything important.

- Oh...
- Actually, since I'm diabetic,

Carla only lets me eat
one candy bar every six months,

so she was helping me
choose which one to go with.

First, we cut out all candy
that sounds remotely racist,

which includes all dark chocolate

and I know this sounds weird,
but Ju Ju Bes.

- Oh...
- Then Carla was like,

"Well, what about Junior Mints?"
And I was like, "Junior Mints?

"Baby, if I want my candy
to freshen my breath,

"I'll just slap some toothpaste
on a Whatchamacallit bar

"and go to town on that bad boy!"

You know what I'm saying?

She knows I'm changing
the subject 'cause she's sad.

Come here. Come here, Elliot.



What did he ask you?

Oh, he just wanted to know
if there was anything I needed.


He asked me
if they still make Mars Bars.

Come on, Bob,
there's an empty table right there.

I'll leave for $ 10.

Pleasure doing business.

Hey, friend.

What, are you bored up there?

So, how'd it go with Keith?

I haven't told him yet.

His whole family
is in town for the wedding,

and so my house is filled
to the frickin' rafters

with Dudemeisters.

You know how my college
girlfriend Stacy broke up with me?

She arranged it so that
when I came home from class

I was able to see her
writhing in pleasure

beneath a big brown butt.

How many times
do I have to apologise for that?

I still have nightmares about
your cheeks, Turk.

Just bouncing and bouncing...

I can't sleep.

Good to see you.

Okay, now or never.


Hey there, future Mrs Dudemeister.

Actually, I'm not sure
we decided whether or not

I'm going to take your last name.

You know what?
That's not important.

Keith, we need to talk.

What's the matter?

I don't even know how to start this.

Keith, I've been thinking.

I don't feel right watching this.

It's not just us.

That's it. It's over.

- Oh.
- Oh.

- Oh.
- J. D!

No, Snoop Dogg Attending
finally told Josephine how he feels.

- Oh.
- Oh.

Hey, everybody, look. A rainbow.

- Oh.
- Oh.

It had been a while
since my near-kiss with Elliot

and the dust
was finally starting to settle.

Daddy's home!

Come here! Check out
these big pregnant hippo feet.

Wow, those are truly disgusting.

Right? I missed you.

Elliot had broken up with Keith

and everything looked great
for me and Kim.

Still, to see how we got there,
I have to go back a week.

So, how's Keith?

Carla. Pig-Whore.

Better, actually. It used to be
"Stupid Pig-Whore."

It's only been a few days
and he's already dropped an adjective.

Wow. Maybe by the weekend
you'll just be "Whore."

Hey, Kim, I know because of work
I haven't seen you in a while,

but do you mind
if I grab a drink with Turk tonight?

Tell her my dad died.

Go have fun with your friend.
I'm gonna stay in and eat.

Thanks, babe. Bye.

See, Turk? Now we can save
that dad dying thing

to go see the new panda baby
at the zoo.

Oh, it's too late for that. She died.

Not Ming-Ming.

Her mama sat on her and then ate her.

Stupid nature.

I can't believe
I almost messed things up with Kim.

What is wrong with me?

You're an annoying, whiny man-child.

That question wasn't directed at you.

What question?

Mr Hutnik,

I see here you were admitted

for swollen lymph nodes
and abdominal pain.

I'm also having heart palpitations.

Well, I think I can help you
with that one.

You see, I'm very, very handsome.

I was gonna say.

- Beardface? What do you say?
- It's Beardfac?.

Why do you people
insist on calling me Beardface?

- May I?
- Go for it.

Well, I just got here,
but if I had to guess,

I would say it's because your face is,
like, five-sixths beard.

Damn you!

Carla, which resident ordered a
CAT scan on Mr Hirsch last night?

That would be me, Pig-Whore.
It's all in the notes.

Aw, can't Pig-Whore read?

Ha! Pig-Whore Read!

See, your last name's Reid,
so it works two ways.

Keith's being totally unprofessional.

You were supposed to marry him
last weekend.

Speaking of which, I gave you
a very high-end cappuccino maker

and seeing as there aren't
going to be any nuptials...

Yeah, yeah, you'll get it back.


Look, Keith and I
have to work together.

- How am I supposed to fix this?
- You can't.

You just gotta let him
hate you for a while.

No, we can get through this.

I'm going to go talk to him.

Hey, wait a minute.
We only got one cappuccino maker

and it was from my brother, Barry.

Worth a shot.

So, are you gonna answer me or not?

Come on, man. You know why you
almost screwed things up with Kim.

- Don't make me say it.
- All right, fine.

The Harsh Truth Rule is in effect.

I'll lay a harsh truth on you,
so when you lay one on me

- you won't feel guilty.
- J.D., we don't need...

When you sweat a lot,
you smell like eggs.

That's not even true.

Did Carla tell you to say that?

No, why? Does she think that, too?

- No.
- Oh...

All right, fine. You want to know
why you almost blew it with Kim?

It's because you knocked her up
on your first date

and before you could get
to know her, she betrayed you.

And now you don't have
strong feelings for her,

and the only reason why you
guys are still together

is because there's a kid involved.

Which means you're gonna
stick it out with her till the end,

whether you love her or not.

I don't know, man.
I don't think that's true.

I don't think it's about her.
I think it's about me.

I have sabotaged
every relationship I've ever been in.

Look at it. Molebutt, Tina-Two-Kids,
Rumplefugly, Gift Shop Girl...

None of those girls
were good for you anyway.

Well, except for Molebutt.

I don't even know
if Rumplefugly was a girl.

Stop it. Fugs was awesome.

Lyme disease and how on earth

could I possibly have figured out such
a tough diagnosis so darn quickly?

Because I'm that good.

One more time for emphasis.
I'm that good.

Now, I'm going to have
this incredibly fun-sized intern

give you a quick body check
for tick bites. Tippytoes!

Oh, there she is. She's cute.

And once she has found
the tell-tale, bull's-eye-shaped mark,

we'll be able to start treating you.
How does that sound, Mr Hutnik?

Please, call me Joe.

- I've got to get that guy out of here.
- Why, is he a jerk?

No, I... I think I like him.

- What smells like eggs?
- Nothing, sir. You're imagining it.

What's wrong with liking a patient?

I'm not you. I don't get
to introduce myself to patients,

do a minor surgery, recommend
a good mortician to the family

and then just be on my way.
I have to treat people.

And if I like them, well,

that makes me want to
work all that much harder.

And really,
who has time for that, right?

Seriously, am I having a stroke
or is someone making an omelette?

Hey, Keith.

You came to your house
while I'm packing up my stuff,

even though you promised
not to be here. Awesome.

Well, you know
you can't take my word.

I mean, I also promised
I'd marry you last Saturday, right?


I know, too soon. I'm sorry.

But, come on, we love "too soon" jokes.

Come on now.
Let's see the chuckle. Huh?

Here it comes.

I think I see it bubbling up.

Do not make me start laughing,

because you know
that if I start laughing

then you'll start laughing.

Okay, you know what? This is why
it was so easy to walk out on you.

So I finally figured out
what's wrong with me.

You're an annoying, whiny man-child.

I'm a self-saboteur.

And not just in relationships,
in everything.

But you know what?
I'm done with all that.

I'm not going to shoot myself
in the foot any more.

- What is it, fun-size?
- I checked Mr Hutnik all over,

- but I couldn't find a tick bite.
- Oh, my God.

I gotta go figure this out.
I can't believe it.

Oh, and by the way,
you have a ridiculous speaking voice.

And even though
I wanted to ask Snoop

how he could spend a second
listening to that voice

without killing himself, I didn't.

Yep, no more bringing trouble my way
by saying things like...

- Who are the flowers for?
- My girlfriend.

- You have a girlfriend?
- Just 'cause I'm a janitor

means no woman
could possibly be attracted to me?



There she is right down there.

Really? What's her name?


- Lady?
- You don't believe me?

Well, let's just say
you've lied to me before.

Watch this.

Hey, Lady!

Stay there! Don't...
Don't come down here.

I'll give these to you later.

Your witness.

Just pick a candy, T-Dawg.

Shut up!

You have no idea
how important this is to me.

And then I had this
weird, crystallising moment.

I realised
I didn't have to choose the candy.

- I could just let the candy choose me.
- So what'd you get?

- Bit-O-Honey.
- Oh, I'm so, so sorry.

Don't be. I ate that
bad boy an hour and a half ago,

and I'm still pulling bits-o-it
outta my teeth.

Oh, my God, Gandh-idiot.
Would we all be better served

if we filled this patient
with a creamy caramel centre?

Then would you tell me
whether or not he needs surgery?

It's not an acute abdomen,
so it's not a surgical issue.

Why can't anyone figure out
what's wrong with me?

I won't let you down.

I'm sorry I couldn't help, Mr Hutnik.

Oh, please. Call me Joe.

I am so psyched to call him Joe.

He's got this magical quality to him.

- Boy, you're telling me.
- What can I do to help?

Gumball, I honestly don't know

- what to do next.
- I do.

Some phrases sting,
no matter how they're said.

They can be barked
by a sworn enemy.

Get the hell out of here!

Or hissed by a jilted
ex stealing a lamp.

Elliot, just get the hell out of here!

Or even plainly stated in
a veteran doctor's soothing tone.

Goodbye, everybody.
I'll see you tomorrow!

Not her.

Fellas, if his symptoms have subsided

and you can't find an underlying cause,
his insurance won't cover him.

You have to tell Mr Hutnik
to get the hell out of here.

Hey, Joe.

When someone tells you
to get the hell out,

you don't have a lot of options.

You can ignore them...

Where are you taking me?

Joe, we are turfing you to dermatology
to buy ourselves some time.

Gandhi, how's that mole looking?

- Nice and cancerous.
- Well done.

Or you can take
a more direct approach.

- No, Keith, I'm not leaving.
- Oh, awesome.

Why does it have to be like this?

I care about you so much.

I don't want to lose you from my life.

Well, you're going to,

because from now on, Pig-Whore,
you're dead to me.

- You did what?
- I know. I am a pig-whore.

What am I going to do now?

Could you two kindly shut
your respective cake holes?

We're trying to figure out what's
wrong with Joe here.

Big news, sports fans!

I've decided to start calling everyone
"sports fans."

Yeah, I know I'm not exactly
the jock-y type,

but I watched Hoosiers last night,

and I like sports now.

Anybody have any objections?

Shocking. You're usually
the one who has

something to say about everything...

I know you're the one that started
the rumour that I like dudes.

All right, sports fans.

I've almost gone an entire day
without sabotaging myself.


That's it!

Ladies and gentlemen,

welcome to the First Annual
Sacred Heart Who-Caresies Awards,

designed to honour those people who
believe that others

actually give a rat's ass
about the minutiae of their lives.

The weird thing was,
I think we all really wanted to win.

And the nominees are Barbie Reid for

"What Am I Going To Do
About My Ex-Fianc??"

Dame Judy Dorian for
"I'm Done Self-Sabotaging."

Gandhi for
"I've Got Candy In My Teeth."

The Todd for "Look At My New Shirt!"

And the winner is...

Dame Judy Dorian.

This is Dame Judy Dorian's
first nomination and first win.

Suck on that, Tony Shalhoub.

Perry, why the hell is Hutnik still here?

- Put him on the street.
- You win. But would you do us a favour

and you deliver the news
to Hutnik yourself?

I'd be glad to.

Hi, I'm Bob Kelso. Mr Hutnik, is it?

Please, call me Joe.

Think, fellas, think!

We have to figure out
what's wrong with Joe.

I've done it. An entire day
without sabotaging myself.

I'm sorry, but I don't
even know who you are.

Well, that seems like a strange thing
for a girlfriend to say, isn't it?

Hold on one second,
I have to grab this.

Yello? Oh, yes, he's here.

It's "The Truth" calling. It wants to know
why you never tell it.

I mean, really, who are you?
A necklace with my name on it?

The man I met was sweet,
but I had no idea how sweet.

You're gonna get some! Ha!

Just had to do the phone bit,
didn't you?

- Her name's Lady?
- Yeah.

- Who's named Lady?
- She is.

She's got a brother named "Him."
What do you care?

Seriously, why do you force me
to make your life miserable?

And I really didn't have
an answer for him.

You know what I don't
have an answer for?

Why I'm going line dancing with
Keith tonight. Stupid Pig-Whore.

J.D., you're not that self-destructive.


I was gonna suggest
he seek professional help.

Would you be interested in seeing
a cognitive therapist?

'Cause I know a guy, he's good.

I'm gonna give you his card,
then I'm gonna bash your head in.

- I'll see you in the morning.
- I'm in at 7:00.

Wear a helmet.

Screw it. I'm just going to marry Keith.

Maybe he'll die young.

When did we become
such ridiculous, pathetic people?

Why do you two think
you're that different from anyone else?

J.D., I get in my own way all the time.

Like this morning, I was running late
and I got toothpaste on my upper lip.

And even though
I knew Turk was watching,

I didn't wipe it off with my hand.

I went like this...

Oh, morning.

And, Elliot, I'm sorry,
but you are not the first person

to ever sleep with their ex, okay?

Is there a point to this?

Yes. And pay attention,
because I don't want to be

saying the same thing again
in two weeks.

You're both human.

Give yourselves a break, okay?

Fair enough.

I can't look
at these medical books any more.

We're getting nowhere.

- What it do, Beardface?
- It's Beardfac?! Beardfac?!

Calm down, Seymour.

If you want to lose the nickname,
you gotta shave the beard.

- Course, then you'd be Dr Face.
- Ha! Dr Face.

Damn you all!

I wonder what he's hiding
under all that hair.

That's it.

- What's it?
- Interns are idiots. Ockham's razor.

There you are.
Oh, do you want to go straight out

or do you want to go back to our place
and grab some food first?

We have to talk.

Oh, my God. I can't believe
I have to do this again.

- Do what again, babe?
- Well...

I feel so bad for them.

Yeah, me, too.

Actually, I never really cared for Keith
or his farm boy looks,

but now wasn't the time for that.

Hey, Kim.

Get your butt home already.
We haven't seen each other in days.

Don't you miss me?

Of course I do.

But the truth was I didn't.

And then I had
this weird, crystallising moment.

You see, there's an age-old principle
you hear a lot about in medicine,

that the simplest, most obvious answer
is usually the correct one.

It's called Ockham's razor.

It could mean that your first instinct
was right and it was Lyme disease...

Bull's-eye. And there's your tick bite.

Let's put him on
100 milligrams of Ceftin.

Joe, you're gonna be fine.

Thank you, guys. Sincerely.

Or that your best friend was right

and you have to let your ex-fianc?
hate you for a while...

Good night, you skanky,
straw-haired Pig-Whore.

Did you hear all the new adjectives?

Come here. You are not straw-haired.

I know.

In my case,
it was never about sabotaging myself.

- Daddy's home!
- Come here.

Check out these
big pregnant hippo feet.

- Wow, those are truly disgusting.
- Right? I missed you.

It was the simple answer,
just like Turk said.

I had knocked up a girl
on our first date.

And I don't have strong feelings
for her and probably never will.

And the only reason
we're still together is because

there's a kid involved,

which means I'm gonna stay
with her until the very end,

whether I love her or not.