Previously on "Childrens Hospital"...
Detective Chance Briggs, you dirty S.O.B.!
What's my old partner doing here?
- Are you sure you're not cops? - Are you loco?
We're Puerto Rican gang members.
Hey, amigo, you want to go to Chipotle after this?
How's my son?
You know the old joke where the patient says,
"Will I ever be able to play the violin again?" and the doctor says,
"Yes," and then the patient says, "Great, because I've never played before"?
Well, your son's heart is failing.
Sync by honeybunny Corrected by icephoenix www.addic7ed.com
Let's blast the crap out of this day, Dr. Richie.
Aaaah!
Zoom!
No.
Come on! Laugh!
Damn it! Laugh!
Stop it, Blake! It's over!
Time of death...
Your life is going to be very different now, Glenn.
You are officially handicapped.
You're a broken American.
I don't think so.
I just got a couple of broken fingies.
I'm gonna be totally fine.
Knock, knock. Who's there?
Not Billy Johnson, because I killed him.
What happened today wasn't your fault.
Sometimes I wonder why the American Medical Association
even recognizes the healing power of laughter.
They don't.
Well, it sometimes feels that way.
Chief, I'm officially resigning as a member of this hospital...
Effective immediately.
I keep that lubed.
Blake?
Britches?
- So, I guess this is it. - Why, Blake?
Britches, we've been over this a million times.
I got to travel the earth and bring the healing power of laughter to children.
Plus, I really want to bang an Asian chick.
- What are you doing here? - It's my son. He's sick.
They say he's gonna die.
I need a doctor I can trust.
Well, that's rough timing, Britches, because I just quit...
Rather dramatically, too.
I slammed a paper down, that whole deal.
Blake... I need you... Please.
I'll think about it.
I said I'll think about it!
Excuse me.
I have an order of sweet and sour cop with extra mustache.
Well, well, well.
Detective Chance Briggs, you big woman's blouse.
- They told me you were in Iraq. - Not anymore.
Freakin' Obama.
- I need a favor. - Anything.
I need you to get me into Ward 8.
Shh, shh, shhh! Shhh!
Wait... What?
His white-blood-cell count is low.
I'm gonna start him on broad-spectrum A.B.s,
but other than that, I'm out of options.
Out of options?
What happened to the clown who said we couldn't be together
because you had to make dying people laugh and... And bang an Asian chick?
Which I did, by the way, and it's an urban myth that
they have sideways baginas.
Did you say "baginas"?
No.
You did.
I have a clown son that needs a clown doctor.
Cure him the old-fashioned way.
- You mean with laughter, right? - I'm gonna punch you.
I need info for a case, and the only person who's got it is in Ward 8.
Do you even know what Ward 8 is?
I do, but explain it as if I'm hearing it for the
first time and was being shown images that illustrated what you were saying.
Ward 8 is a secret wing at Childrens.
It houses one of the world's largest populations of criminally insane children.
Adults never go into Ward 8 because they don't come out.
That's why I'm going in undercover.
Hey, kid! Scram!
- Owen... It's me. - Whoa.
You just might pull this off.
Okay, listen to me.
These doors open twice a day, so once you're in there,
there's no coming out for twelve hours.
Thanks, partner.
- Can you hang on to my keys? - Sure.
And my Motorola clamshell.
- And Arlou. - No problem.
Criminally insane children only allowed beyond this point.
- Lockdown commencing, five... - Hey! Good luck.
I don't need luck.
I'm Chance Briggs.
That kid just stabbed me!
Owen!
What?
Damn!
Clamp.
Aah!
Damn!
Get used to the feeling of your own hot tinkle, my friend.
What the hell are you doing in the men's bathroom?
You'll find that there are great freedoms to being handy-competent.
I am not handy-competent!
I am not handy-anything!
I'm whol... I'm whole.
Oh, God.
Oh. Oh, God.
Hey!
People will look at you differently now...
With a mixture of pity and disgust and a certain animal sexual
attraction, as if they feel that they can screw your broken body
back into working.
Show me.
What happened?
- They got you with a number 2. - They stabbed me with their feces?
- You must be new. - How'd you know?
You weren't wearing your coloring book.
I'm Cody, but everyone here calls me Mike.
Why is that?
I guess because over the course of three years,
I abducted and murdered twelve men named Mike.
Is... your name Mike?
No.
I'm, uh, Gavin. Gavin Macleod.
I got caught jerking off in a neighbor's attic, so I murdered them.
Yeah, I hear that.
Attics are super-sexy.
Mike, I'm looking for a kid named Randall Deakon.
Look, Gavin, no one sees Randall.
- He gets inside your head. - Mm-hmm.
- Makes you do things. - Oh, God.
- Terrible things. - I hear that.
Disturbing things.
Thank you, Easter Bunny! Bawk, bawk!
B.P. is dropping.
Shockingly, your rubber-chicken treatment
couldn't prevent complete organ failure.
You might as well have just tickled him.
Wait a minute.
That just might...
B.P. is up!
Heart rate is, too. He's totally cured.
You did it.
I did.
It's 'cause I cured him the old-fashioned way.
- What? - I said "thank you."
Oh.
It looked like you were mouthing it.
Yeah, I just did that for effect.
I don't know. I thought it was cool.
Oh, yeah. That is cool.
Who are you?
I'm Gavin.
I do bad things in the attic.
- How old are you, Gavin? - Thirteen.
Well, if you're thirteen, you must know what they call
the Jonas Brother that isn't in the band.
The bonus Jonas.
Miley Cyrus has a tattoo under her left breast.
- What does it say? - "Just breathe."
Not bad.
- Who sang "Night Moves"? - Bob Seger.
I mean... Justin Bieber?
What's "Night Moves"?
Crap.
Please!
What's the matter, Gavin?
You look sick.
Maybe you need some medication.
Grimace, let's give him my meds.
All of them.
Damn it.
You ready for a little afternoon delight?
And by "delight," I mean I cripple-bang you in a tub built for safety.
- It's over, Glenn. - What?
It was just a sprain. You're gonna be fine.
So what?
No more making love in cars parked as close as possible to stores?
Glenn, I'm not attracted to whole people.
You are now gross to me.
Fine.
I'll see myself out.
No!
Chief, this is for us.
Ow!
Quick! Use my vagina as a splint!
Come on.
Where are you, Briggs?
Briggs.
Preparing for evening lockdown.
Briggs! Come on, buddy!
- Aah! - No!
No, Briggs!
Briggs, come on!
Stop stabbing him!
No, Briggs!
- Mike! - Run, Gavin!
- Mike! - Get out of here!
What are you doing?
- They'll kill you! - I'll be fine! Just go!
You can make it, buddy!
Aah!
Aaah!
I need some help here!
We got a patient with multiple stab wounds.
Prep the O.R.
No!
Owen, it's okay.
A friend taught me that.
Classic Mike.
- Hey. - Hey.
Listen, um, I want to thank you.
You really restored my faith in the healing power of laughter.
I'm glad.
Thank you.
Wh... What are you doing?
Oh, my God. I'm so sorry.
- I thought that's where this was going. - I'm happily married.
- I'm so embarrassed. - It's okay. I'm flattered.
Okay, well... Thank you.
You're welcome.
Blake!
Really?
- I thought you were kidding. - No, no. I'm not kidding.
Okay. Okay. I get it.
I get it, okay?
- Happily married. - Okay.
Thank you.
Are you stupid for a living?
Sync by honeybunny Corrected by icephoenix www.addic7ed.com
Damn!
Attention, hospital staff.
I mean the literal staff, like the kind Moses carried.