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Regina 'Reggie' Kostas: I don't have a license to sell alcohol.
Dr. John Becker: You don't have a license to sell rat hair, either, but that never stopped you.

Maureen: (holds out her hand) ATM card?
Linda: Oh! Yeah, I forgot.
(hands Maureen the card and begins to walk away)
Maureen: Pin number, hello!
Linda: Oh! Sorry, it's really easy to remember. You take the number of letters in Linda, that's 5. Then you subtract 3, that's the number of fingers my ex-boyfriend has on his left hand. Then you add the number of kids my Uncle Frank has, that's 8. Then you subtract the number of planets in the Solar System, that's 12.
Maureen: (interrupts) There are 9 planets.
Linda: Really?
(starts counting on her fingers)
Linda: Oh well, you're just going to have to remember it. It's 1-2-3-4-5.
Maureen: Freak!
(exits the office)

(Becker is buried up to his neck in fake snow)
Kid: Mommy, I don't like that scary toy. Mean Mister Angry Head
Dr. John Becker: I'm *Doctor* Angry Head.

Dr. John Becker: Did you ever hear me say that?
Margaret: No, but it certainly sounds like you!

(Becker's patient is Richard Hatch, winner of Survivor: Borneo)
Dr. John Becker: (checking his clipboard) Okay, uh, Mr. Hatch. I'm Dr. Becker.
(he and Richard shake hands)
Richard Hatch: Hey, Doc. Want me to take my clothes off? 'Cause that's no problem.
Dr. John Becker: Uh, why don't we just talk first.
Richard Hatch: Okay.
Dr. John Becker: (checking his clipboard) All right. It says you're here for... stomach distress. Any, uh, recent changes in your diet?
Richard Hatch: No, but, uh, several months ago, I was out of the country.
Dr. John Becker: Oh, yeah, I've seen that before. Mexico?
Richard Hatch: No, I was on this island. My diet was very exotic. I pretty much existed on stingray, dog food, beetle larvae...
Dr. John Becker: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop. What the hell's wrong with you?
Richard Hatch: Hey, some of the *other* people there ate rats.
Dr. John Becker: Rats? Well, why in the world would anyone do that?
Richard Hatch: It was for "Survivor."
Dr. John Becker: "Survivor?"
Richard Hatch: You know, the contest? The show? It was on television.
Dr. John Becker: Television? Oh, my God! You know, what is this world coming to? People are eating bugs and rats on a stupid television show? I swear to God! You know, TV has become nothing more than the... the Petri dish where this country grows its idiots! Don't they have better things to do than to debase themselves coast to coast?
Richard Hatch: Well, I won.
Dr. John Becker: Oh, yeah, won. Yeah, please. I mean, what could you possibly have won that would make up for your loss of self-respect?
Richard Hatch: A million dollars?
Dr. John Becker: Now, h-h-how could I get involved with something like that? Is that something that any... just anybody...
(the scene fades out)

Dr. John Becker: He took special interest in one student. Can you guess who that young man was?
Linda: Who?
Dr. John Becker: Linda, don't be such an idiot. It's me.
Linda: Oh, when you said young it threw me off.

Jake Malinak: Wait a minute, this guy's really good-looking, isn't he?
Regina 'Reggie' Kostas: I could lick his face like a Dove bar.

(a patient can't open the door)
Dr. John Becker: Door's unlocked right?
Margaret: Yup.
Dr. John Becker: And he still can't get in?
Margaret: Apparently.
Dr. John Becker: I guess I can be a little more tolerant.
Margaret: Oh, come on, you can't possibly be that stupid! If you keep pulling and it isn't working there is only one possible option, press the button and push!
(opens the door and looks to Dr. John Becker)
Margaret: Jackass!
Dr. John Becker: Feels good, doesn't it?

Dr. John Becker: Medicine is not always the best medicine.

Bob: (to Jake) Hey LensCrafter...!

Linda: Where have you two been? You know I should never be left in charge!

Chris Connor: (to Dr. John Becker) There's not a day that goes by that doesn't prove you are emotionally retarded!

(Answering machine voice over message)
Jake Malinak: Hi, this is Jake. Please look outside and then into the mirror. If it's dark outside and you're Becker, do me a favor, and go to hell.

Dr. John Becker: Uh-Linda?
Linda, Lynda: Yes?
Dr. John Becker: I meant Linda.
Linda, Lynda: Yes?
Margaret: You're both named Linda?
Linda, Lynda: Yes.
Dr. John Becker: I just had that creepy feeling I had in medical school watching the cell divide.

Dr. John Becker: Romance is like the cheese in the mousetrap - it baits you into position, so the cold, metal bar of reality can come down and snap your neck.

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