Childrens Hospital (2010) s04e03 Episode Script
Chief's Origin
He's suffering from sombialysis.
It's a rare neurological condition that causes him to spontaneously burst into song.
But I can cure him, Sy.
I was born to do this operation.
It's a little too risky.
If I fail, I will happily turn in my resignation.
And I will take it, but with a lot less happiness than that with which you claim you're handing it to me.
I love the 'stache, by the way.
Thank you.
At the risk of sounding a bit like a broken record, I want to assure you all that Iwasborn to do this operation.
Let's get cracking.
Yes.
Ha ha! Here we come.
Steady as she goes.
Scalpel.
I was born to do this operation.
How could I screw up this operation that I was born to do? You keep saying that, chief, with great unearned bravado.
How were you born to do it? That, my friends, is a long, long, long, long, crazy long story.
Yeah, so you probably shouldn't tell it.
Yeah, we can just check your blog, right? I was born in a mobile home on a poor Choctaw Indian reservation.
You have blessed the earth, mother, with a baby girl.
What will you call this future leader? I shall call herum Oh, uh, chief.
I shall call her chief.
Does the child have any deformities? What? Is something wrong with little whore? Wait, no.
Sorry.
Thought I saw something.
She's totally fine.
Oh.
Thank goodness.
Hello, my baby hello, my honey Isn't that something? baby, ma heart's on fire I wonder when it will stop? That's right, my friends.
I, too, spent most of my life spontaneously bursting into song.
ButI was able to cure myself.
The end! No, no, it's not the end.
Wow, chief.
Your storytelling is as crappy as your doctoring.
Can we go now? Valerie, if you were half the doctor that chief was, you'd be lucky.
But you're not.
You're fully the doctor that you are, which is to say not as good.
Well, geez, Sy.
If you love chief that much, why don't you marry her? Hey, I would marry the chief three times.
I would bear her overweight children.
I would pat her handicapped forehead, and I would cradle her if she died her foul-smelling and painful death, before I let you put one foot in a room with someone who is just putting a band-aid on my skinned knee a-hole.
You understand? Yes, sir.
Sorry, sir.
Now, all of you -- everyone is going to listen to the chief's stories.
No daydreaming! Thank you, Sy.
Thank you so much for yelling at Valerie, Jerry.
Ah, the old twin-brother Switcheroo works every time.
Well, you know, I'm not good at confrontation.
Try growing a mustache.
Then, midday the following week, I had a similar feeling as the day before, although very different from the way I was feeling over the weekend.
- But - Sticking a band-aid on my skinned kneea-hole.
You understand? You know what, Sy? Why don't you go jump in a lake? Oh, no, you didn't! Can you even imagine? Sy jumping in a lake?! It's all about you.
You know what I mean, right, Val? Right, Val? I mean, isn't that what you always say? Yeah, of course.
That's what I say.
If I don't say it, who will, because they're not me so they can't.
So nobody.
Just me.
I'll say it.
I always say it.
The point is, my life was not an easy one.
No school would take me, so I was home a lot.
My Bonnie lies over the ocean my Bonnie lies over the sea My father didn't work, so he was home, too, until he wasn't.
Oh, man! I'm out of here, man.
Bring back, oh, bring back mid pleasures and palaces I tried to cure it by performing brain surgery on myself.
Though we may roam The first few operations were unsuccessful.
There's no That "operation" permanently damaged my eyesight and that is when I started having to wear these thick, ugly glasses.
The wrist guards, of course, are another story, a fascinating one -- rather amusing, if you will.
- I first saw these wrist guards - My skinned knee, a-hole.
Do you understand? Yes, sir.
Sorry, sir.
Val.
Let me handle this.
Leave her alone, Sy.
And, while you're at it, why don't you go jump in a lake? Yes! Can you even imagine? Sy jumping in a lake?! That's priceless, man.
What a man.
We've been waiting too long for this, right, Blake? Right, Blake? Blake.
Blake, are you following me or not? No.
No.
I got to get back to my daydream! Welcome back, Blake.
This is my body.
Soon, it will be yours.
Hmm.
I then embarked on a period of self-experimentation, determined to find a cure.
When I was old enough, I went to med school and started experimenting on cadavers.
And we all experimented in college, right? Finally, I had the training to operate on my own brain in the right way, or so I hoped.
Ow! But dang it! I kept experimenting.
I graduated at the top of my class, but my list of handicaps had grown -- the walker, this almost cartoonish hunch, the ugly wig.
Finally, I finished my internship.
Chief, you finally finished your internship.
Okay, good.
Oh, it had gone by so fast.
Twinkling Chief finally finished her internship.
What? Oh, my daydreams suck.
And now the day of the operation was finally upon me.
The operation lasted for what seemed like days, and I sang the entire timeuntil I stopped.
I'm curedof everything! All of my handicaps are gone! Let's celebrate! So, instead of singing, I danced, with my friend Wayne, a male nurse.
Kind of a drama queen.
And that's the end of my story! But, chief, if I was listening correctly -- and the answer is, no, I was not -- you said that you were cured all your handicaps in that operation, but you clearly still have them.
Okay.
That is a really funny story.
Bet you it won't be funny.
So, the same thing with the dancing, no singing, - Wayne, et cetera, and N-o-o-o-o-o!! Oh, no! Why?! No!! Said it wouldn't be funny.
Oh, man, did that hurt! Oh, God.
I mean, that Wayne was such a drama queen.
No!! No! Hey, man.
You were talking in your sleep.
Me, me, me, me, and I'm perfect.
Oh, yeah.
Chief, I get it.
You were born to do that operation.
But then why did it fail? Wait.
Chief, what are you drinking? My coffee.
Why? That's not coffee! Parkinson's juice? Parkinson's disease makes your hands shake.
That's why the surgery failed.
Oh, my God, you're right! And if I fail, which I won't, I will happily turn in my resignation.
Turn in my resignation.
Iwasborn to do this operation.
Steady as she goes.
Mystery solved, huh? I guess it all boiled down to me drinking Parkinson's juice.
Okay, pals.
- Well, thanks for list - Oh, hey, Derrick.
Thanks for listening.
And that's it.
That's the story of how I told the story of my life to these other doctors who I used to work with.
Those doctors sound like a bunch of dicks.
At least we listen when you tell stories.
Oh, it doesn't matter, anyway.
They're all dead now.
Right, Sy? Right, Jerry? They just didn't listen.
Hey, Sy.
No, no, no, no! Blake! Look at all these articles.
Why did you all have to die? Who did this? Wait a second.
Oh, my God! And that completes the story of how Sy and Jerry murdered a bunch of doctors because they were bad listeners.
And that's the whole story.
We were in her office, and they told us in detail how each of the murders was committed.
I guess you could say I was born to get her to tell her story.
What do you mean? Well, that's a long, long, long, long story.
Attention, staff.
You say Parkinson's.
I say pock-in-son's.
That is all.
It's a rare neurological condition that causes him to spontaneously burst into song.
But I can cure him, Sy.
I was born to do this operation.
It's a little too risky.
If I fail, I will happily turn in my resignation.
And I will take it, but with a lot less happiness than that with which you claim you're handing it to me.
I love the 'stache, by the way.
Thank you.
At the risk of sounding a bit like a broken record, I want to assure you all that Iwasborn to do this operation.
Let's get cracking.
Yes.
Ha ha! Here we come.
Steady as she goes.
Scalpel.
I was born to do this operation.
How could I screw up this operation that I was born to do? You keep saying that, chief, with great unearned bravado.
How were you born to do it? That, my friends, is a long, long, long, long, crazy long story.
Yeah, so you probably shouldn't tell it.
Yeah, we can just check your blog, right? I was born in a mobile home on a poor Choctaw Indian reservation.
You have blessed the earth, mother, with a baby girl.
What will you call this future leader? I shall call herum Oh, uh, chief.
I shall call her chief.
Does the child have any deformities? What? Is something wrong with little whore? Wait, no.
Sorry.
Thought I saw something.
She's totally fine.
Oh.
Thank goodness.
Hello, my baby hello, my honey Isn't that something? baby, ma heart's on fire I wonder when it will stop? That's right, my friends.
I, too, spent most of my life spontaneously bursting into song.
ButI was able to cure myself.
The end! No, no, it's not the end.
Wow, chief.
Your storytelling is as crappy as your doctoring.
Can we go now? Valerie, if you were half the doctor that chief was, you'd be lucky.
But you're not.
You're fully the doctor that you are, which is to say not as good.
Well, geez, Sy.
If you love chief that much, why don't you marry her? Hey, I would marry the chief three times.
I would bear her overweight children.
I would pat her handicapped forehead, and I would cradle her if she died her foul-smelling and painful death, before I let you put one foot in a room with someone who is just putting a band-aid on my skinned knee a-hole.
You understand? Yes, sir.
Sorry, sir.
Now, all of you -- everyone is going to listen to the chief's stories.
No daydreaming! Thank you, Sy.
Thank you so much for yelling at Valerie, Jerry.
Ah, the old twin-brother Switcheroo works every time.
Well, you know, I'm not good at confrontation.
Try growing a mustache.
Then, midday the following week, I had a similar feeling as the day before, although very different from the way I was feeling over the weekend.
- But - Sticking a band-aid on my skinned kneea-hole.
You understand? You know what, Sy? Why don't you go jump in a lake? Oh, no, you didn't! Can you even imagine? Sy jumping in a lake?! It's all about you.
You know what I mean, right, Val? Right, Val? I mean, isn't that what you always say? Yeah, of course.
That's what I say.
If I don't say it, who will, because they're not me so they can't.
So nobody.
Just me.
I'll say it.
I always say it.
The point is, my life was not an easy one.
No school would take me, so I was home a lot.
My Bonnie lies over the ocean my Bonnie lies over the sea My father didn't work, so he was home, too, until he wasn't.
Oh, man! I'm out of here, man.
Bring back, oh, bring back mid pleasures and palaces I tried to cure it by performing brain surgery on myself.
Though we may roam The first few operations were unsuccessful.
There's no That "operation" permanently damaged my eyesight and that is when I started having to wear these thick, ugly glasses.
The wrist guards, of course, are another story, a fascinating one -- rather amusing, if you will.
- I first saw these wrist guards - My skinned knee, a-hole.
Do you understand? Yes, sir.
Sorry, sir.
Val.
Let me handle this.
Leave her alone, Sy.
And, while you're at it, why don't you go jump in a lake? Yes! Can you even imagine? Sy jumping in a lake?! That's priceless, man.
What a man.
We've been waiting too long for this, right, Blake? Right, Blake? Blake.
Blake, are you following me or not? No.
No.
I got to get back to my daydream! Welcome back, Blake.
This is my body.
Soon, it will be yours.
Hmm.
I then embarked on a period of self-experimentation, determined to find a cure.
When I was old enough, I went to med school and started experimenting on cadavers.
And we all experimented in college, right? Finally, I had the training to operate on my own brain in the right way, or so I hoped.
Ow! But dang it! I kept experimenting.
I graduated at the top of my class, but my list of handicaps had grown -- the walker, this almost cartoonish hunch, the ugly wig.
Finally, I finished my internship.
Chief, you finally finished your internship.
Okay, good.
Oh, it had gone by so fast.
Twinkling Chief finally finished her internship.
What? Oh, my daydreams suck.
And now the day of the operation was finally upon me.
The operation lasted for what seemed like days, and I sang the entire timeuntil I stopped.
I'm curedof everything! All of my handicaps are gone! Let's celebrate! So, instead of singing, I danced, with my friend Wayne, a male nurse.
Kind of a drama queen.
And that's the end of my story! But, chief, if I was listening correctly -- and the answer is, no, I was not -- you said that you were cured all your handicaps in that operation, but you clearly still have them.
Okay.
That is a really funny story.
Bet you it won't be funny.
So, the same thing with the dancing, no singing, - Wayne, et cetera, and N-o-o-o-o-o!! Oh, no! Why?! No!! Said it wouldn't be funny.
Oh, man, did that hurt! Oh, God.
I mean, that Wayne was such a drama queen.
No!! No! Hey, man.
You were talking in your sleep.
Me, me, me, me, and I'm perfect.
Oh, yeah.
Chief, I get it.
You were born to do that operation.
But then why did it fail? Wait.
Chief, what are you drinking? My coffee.
Why? That's not coffee! Parkinson's juice? Parkinson's disease makes your hands shake.
That's why the surgery failed.
Oh, my God, you're right! And if I fail, which I won't, I will happily turn in my resignation.
Turn in my resignation.
Iwasborn to do this operation.
Steady as she goes.
Mystery solved, huh? I guess it all boiled down to me drinking Parkinson's juice.
Okay, pals.
- Well, thanks for list - Oh, hey, Derrick.
Thanks for listening.
And that's it.
That's the story of how I told the story of my life to these other doctors who I used to work with.
Those doctors sound like a bunch of dicks.
At least we listen when you tell stories.
Oh, it doesn't matter, anyway.
They're all dead now.
Right, Sy? Right, Jerry? They just didn't listen.
Hey, Sy.
No, no, no, no! Blake! Look at all these articles.
Why did you all have to die? Who did this? Wait a second.
Oh, my God! And that completes the story of how Sy and Jerry murdered a bunch of doctors because they were bad listeners.
And that's the whole story.
We were in her office, and they told us in detail how each of the murders was committed.
I guess you could say I was born to get her to tell her story.
What do you mean? Well, that's a long, long, long, long story.
Attention, staff.
You say Parkinson's.
I say pock-in-son's.
That is all.