Michael: I'm not sick, I'm-
Dwight: I'm coming, Michael!
Jim: Oh.
(Dwight runs to his desk and grabs his keys)
Dwight: I'm going to save you! Michael is in trouble!
Michael: Don't! Is that Dwight? I do not want Dwight.
Dwight: Okay, hold on Michael, I am coming! Wait there!
Michael: I do not want Dwight!
Pam: Michael, why don't you call your girlfriend?
Michael: I don't have a girlfriend.
Jim: But you said you went out with her this weekend.
Michael: It was all made up.
(People try not to laugh)
Michael: Just, someone come, okay? Anyone. Anyone but
Dwight.
(In the distance tires can be heard screeching followed by a
loud crash)
Jim: What was that?
Pam: What WAS that?
(Everybody makes their way to the window)
(Jim pulls up the blinds and we see that Dwight has crashed
his car into a pole outside)
Jim: Ooh!
Pam: Oh.
Jim: He hit the pole.
(Dwight gets out of his car holding his head)
Jim: It's broken, right? He can't-
Pam: Oh my gosh.
Jim: Oh, Dwight. Dwight.
(Dwight woozily walks around then vomits on the back window
of his car)
Jim: Ooh!
Pam: Oh!
Phyllis: Oh my Gosh.
Jim: Oh my God.
Pam: Is he okay?
Jim: He's still driving. Dwight...you forgot your bumper!
(Quick cut back to reception)
Michael: (on speaker phone) Hello? Please don't send Dwight.
CUT TO INTRO WITH CREDITS
INT. THE OFFICE
(Michael comes into the office on crutches and bubble wrap
around his right foot)
(Dwight is following with an arm full of blankets)
Michael: (in a calming voice) Morning everyone. Don't freak
out. I forbid anybody to freak out. (Angela rolls her eyes) Clearly I have had
a very serious accident. But I will recover. God willing. I just wanna be
treated normally today. Normal would actually be good. Considering the trauma
that I've been through.
Pam: You missed two big conference calls today. One with
corporate.
Michael: Oh, did you explain why?
Pam: No, I didn't mention that you cooked your foot.
Michael: Burned my foot, Pam.
(Popping sounds can be heard)
Michael: Please stop popping my cast.
(The camera tilts down to Michael's foot to reveal Jim
poppiing the bubble wrap)
Michael: Thank you.
Jim: So where are you shipping your foot?
Michael: Ha ha ha. So where are you shipping...
Dwight: Your foot.
CUT TO MICHAEL'S OFFICE
(Dwight is waving a little fan around Michael's foot)
(Pam is uncomfortably watching)
Michael: Thank you. Pam, messages please.
Pam: You didn't have any.
Michael: Really? Well, seemed, uh, very important to you
earlier, that you needed to stay and..
Pam: Do my job?
Michael: No. Your job is being my friend, Pam...and-
(The fan dips down onto Michael's foot)
Michael: Ow! God!
Dwight: It slipped.
Michael: What did-
Dwight: Sorry.
Pam: It's just that before, you said you didn't want any
special treatment.
Michael: I don't want any special treatment, Pam. I just
want you to treat me like you would a family member who's undergone some sort
of serious physical trauma. I don't think that's too much to ask.
Pam: Do you want some aspirin? Because you seem a little
fussy.
Michael: No, I don't want some aspirin. Yeah, I am fussy.
Asiprin's not gonna do a damn thing. I'm sitting here with a bloody stump of a
foot.
Dwight: Pam, I am Assistant Regional Manager. And I can take
care of him. Part of my duties are to...
(Dwight stops talking, Pam waits for him to continue)
(Silence)
Michael: What? Part of your duties are to what?
Dwight: What?
Michael: You just said part of your duties are to something.
Dwight: No, I didn't.
Michael: Yes, you did. What is wrong with you?
Dwight: (laughs) What is wrong with you?
(Pam gets a confused look on her face)
CUT TO DWIGHT'S DESK
(Dwight is busy typing something into his computer)
(The camera zooms in on his monitor)
(He is naming a New Folder on his desktop by typing his name
in over and over and over)
CUT TO CONFERENCE ROOM
(Michael is sitting on a couch with blankets and pillows)
(Ryan is unpacking some food)
Michael: Where is my cornbread?
Ryan: Here you go.
Michael: Thank you. Did you get all dark meat like I like?
Ryan: Yes, I ordered three full rotisserie chickens worth of
all dark meat. (looks at camera)
Michael: Where are the yams?
Ryan: They were out of yams. I got you creamed spinach.
Michael: Did you go to the one in Stroudsburg?
Ryan: Yes.
Michael: And they had no yams?
Ryan: They had no yams.
Michael: How strange. Because they always have yams.
CUT TO RECEPTION
(Pam is playing with an MP3 player)
Dwight: Oh, man, is that a Prism Duro Sport?
Pam: You've seen one of these?
Dwight: Yeah, they're like an iPod, only they're better. 'Cause
they're chunkier and more solid.
Pam: Roy gave it to me for Christmas. I'm trying to figure
out how to put songs on it.
Dwight: Oh, no, no, no. Don't go there. I know this Russian
website, where you can download songs for two cents a piece.
Pam: Really?
Dwight: Yeah, I'll write down the address for you. Only, the
only thing is...is that all the songs, are in Russian.
(Pam rolls her eyes)
Dwight: Kidding!
Pam: Oh...oh!
(They both start laughing)
Dwight: Why would they all be...Okay, see you later, Pan.
(He walks off, Pam thinks about it)
Pam: Pan?
(Michael is calling form the conference room)
Michael: Pam! Pam?
Pam: Oh, God.
(Michael picks up the phone and calls Pam, Pam puts him on
speaker phone)
Pam: What?
Michael: (whiny) Come here, please.
Pam: Tell me before I come there.
Michael: I want you to rub butter on my foot.
Pam: No.
Michael: Pam, please. I have Country Crock.
Pam: No.
(Michael hangs the phone up and picks up a crutch)
(Starts hitting the blinds)
Michael: Ryan! Ryan! Ryan!
(Ryan watches and realizes he can't escape the inevitable)
CUT TO RECEPTION
(Dwight is snapping a cover over Pam's MP3 player)
Dwight: These covers...are totally indestructable.
Pam: Really?
Dwight: Yeah. Throw it. I promise it won't break. Chuck it.
(Pam tosses near Jim)
(Jim looks)
(Dwight goes and picks it up)
Dwight: Oh, no, it's broken.
Pam: What?
Dwight: No, it's fine. I told you it wouldn't break. You
could throw it all day long.
Pam: That is so cool. Thanks Dwight.
Dwight: You're welcome.
(Dwight taps the counter in a Jim fashion and heads back to
his desk)
(Jim notices this exchange)
CUT TO INDUVIDUAL SHOT OF JIM
Jim: So, I guess Pam and Dwight are friends now. (shrugs)
CUT TO INDUVIDUAL SHOT OF PAM
Pam: Oh, God, no. Dwight isn't my friend. (thinks about it)
Oh my God...Dwight's kind of my friend.
CUT TO CONFERENCE ROOM
(Michael is talking on the phone)
Michael: No, no, no one is helping me out at all, Mom. No,
I'm not gonna call Jan. She'd just worry. Drive down here and make a big thing.
(listens) Who told you that? No, it was mutual. What is Pam doing chatting with
you?
CUT TO BREAK ROOM
(Angela is buying something from the vending machine)
(Dwight walks in)
Dwight: Hmm. Do you like candy?
Angela: It's alright.
Dwight: 'Cause you're sweeter than candy.
Angela: What is wrong with you?
(Dwight playfully slaps her rear)
Angela: Hey, cut-
(Angela hits him as Dwight gleefully runs away)
CUT TO THE KITCHEN
(Toby hands Ryan a package of string cheese from the fridge)
(Michael is trying to open the door with his crutches)
(He fails and starts hitting the blinds with a crutch)
(Ryan finally looks up)
(Michael hits the door, Ryan walks over and opens the door)
(Michael enters and goes to the restroom)
(Ryan watches as he takes a big bite from his cheese stick)
Toby: Wow, you just dive right in.
Ryan: You know, around age 12, I just started going for it,
you know?
(All of a sudden, a crash is heard from the bathroom)
Michael: (OS) Oh! Gaa!
(Toby looks at Ryan and walks over to the door)
Michael: (OS) Help! Oh, help! Help me!
(Toby cracks the door open slightly)
Toby: W-what happened?
Michael: (OS) I fell of the toilet. I'm caught between the
toilet and the wall.
Toby: What do you need?
Michael: (OS) Ugh. Not you. Someone else. Get Pam.
Toby: I don't think Pam's gonna want to come into the men's
room.
Michael: (OS) Get Ryan. He needs to lift me.
(The camera pans over to Ryan who shakes his head)
Michael: (OS) And he needs to clean me up a little bit.
Bring a wet towel.
(Ryan gets a troubled/scared look on his face and shakes his
head again)
Toby: Ryan is, uh...
(Ryan makes a throat slitting gesture)
Toby: ...dead.
Michael: (OS) No he's not.
Toby: Dead.
Michael: (OS) I just saw him.
Toby: No, he's...can you just get up yourself? I-you only
grilled your foot.
Michael: (OS) Oh, forget it. I'll just get up myself.
(More crashing is heard)
Michael: (OS) Ohh! Oww! Ow! Ow, God!
CUT TO RECEPTION
(Pam is highlighting a document and Jim walks up)
Jim: Do you think Dwight's being a little weird today?
Pam: No...he's actually been really nice and helpful.
Jim: And that isn't weird?
Pam: Well...
(Pam looks over at Dwight)
(Michael comes out of the kitchen area)
Michael: Can I have everyone's attention, please?
Phyllis...Oscar...Ryan, who is supposed to be dead. Can I ask you all a
question? Do you know what it's like to be disabled? Oscar?
Phyllis: Um...I had scoliosis as a girl.
Michael: Never heard of it. No...a real disability. Not a
woman's trouble.
Creed: When I was a teenager, I was in an iron lung.
Michael: Wha- how old are you? No, it- Look, the point
is...I am the only one here who has a legitimate disability. Although I'm sure
Stanley has had his fair share of obstacles.
Stanely: I'm not disabled, and neither are you.
Michael: Okay.
(Frustrated he throws a crutch and hold up his burned foot)
Michael: What does this look like to you, Stanley?
Stanley: (unimpressed) Mail Boxes, Etc.
Michael: Shut...it. Okay. Well...Well, you know what?
Disabilities are not things to be laughed at, or laughed about. You people are
jerks. Imagine if you had left Stevie Wonder on the floor of that bathroom
instead of me.
Phyllis: Oh, we wouldn't. We love Stevie Wonder.
Michael: I BURNED MY FOOT! Okay, 20 minutes, conference
room. Everybody's in there!
(Michael heads into his office)
(Dwight looks at Creed)
Dwight: Dad?
CUT TO CONFERENCE ROOM
(There are pictures of people hanging on the wall)
Michael: While we are waiting for our special guest to
arrive. I wanted you all to take a look at a few of the many, many disabled
icons who have contributed so much to our society.
Jim: Quick question.
Michael: Yeah?
Jim: Uh, why is Tom Hanks on the wall?
Ryan: Twice.
(Jim smiles)
Michael: Good question. Forrest Gump, mentally challenged.
Philadelphia...AIDS.
Kevin: I think that's from Big.
Michael: I don't think so, no.
Kelly: Yeah, he's dancing on a piano with Robert Loggia.
Michael: He grew into a man overnight. A rare disability. It
still works. (sighs) A crossword puzzle Stanley? Seriously, are you learning
nothing here?
Stanley: (not even looking up) Mm-hmm.
Michael: What do you mean, "Mm-hmm"?
Stanley: I mean I'm learning nothing.
Michael: Okay.
(A guy in a wheelchair appears in the office)
Billy: Michael Scott. I'm looking for Michael Scott.
Michael: Yes, right in here.
Billy: Good.
Michael: Come on in..
Billy: Great.
Michael: This ladies and gentlemen, is our special guest.
Billy: Sorry I'm late. Somebody parked in the handicapped
parking space.
Michael: Oh.
Billy: Hey, everyone. I'm Billy Merchant. You may have seen
me around here before. I'm the properties manager of this office park.
Michael: You are so brave. You are so brave.
Billy: Thank you. Actually, I've been meaning to come by
here or a long time-
Michael: But it's hard for you, right? Because you're in a
wheelchair.
(Pam rubs her temple)
Billy: No, I just have a lot of properties to manage.
Michael: Let me ask you something. How long does it take you
to do something simple? Everyday, like- like brush your teeth in the morning.
Billy: I don't know, like, 30 seconds.
Michael: Oh, my God. That's three times as long as it takes
me.
(Jim does the math and gets a concerned look on his face)
Michael: How did you, get in your wheelchair?
Billy: This morning? Just like every other morning. Just
climbed on in.
(Billy smiles as everybody laughs)
Michael: Hey, hey, hey, hey! Not funny, not funny!
Billy: Hey, hey, relax just, uh...joking around here.
Michael: Well, that's good. He still has a sense of humor.
Billy: Listen, I've actually used a chair since I was four
years old. I don't really notice it anymore.
Michael: Well, they do. They notice it. Don't you? You
notice it. It's the first thing you saw when he rolled in here, isn't it?
CUT TO INDUVIDUAL SHOT OF JIM
Jim: I wanna clamp Michael's face in a George Foreman Grill.
CUT BACK TO CONFERENCE ROOM
Billy: So there are jsut a couple things I wanted to remind
everybody of.
Michael: Okay.
Billy: First is parking. You can't block the freight
entrance with your car, even if your blinkers are on. Does anybody have any
questions?
(Dwight has his hand raised)
Billy: Yes?
(No response from Dwight)
Billy: Yeah?
(Dwight sits there with his hand raised)
Billy: Yes?
(Pam finally looks over at Dwight)
Pam: (quietly) Dwight, you have your hand up.
(Dwight looks over at his arm, then puts it down)
Michael: Ignore him. You know what? We're not that
different, you and I. When I clamped my foot into a non-stick-
Billy: You know what, Michael?
Michael: Yeah?
Billy: Let me stop you right there...
Michael: Okay.
Billy: ...and leave.
CUT TO INDUVIDUAL SHOT OF MICHAEL
Michael: Did you see "Born on the 4th of July"? I
was under the impression that Billy would be more like that guy.
CUT TO THE ELEVATOR
(Jim is standing by the elevator with Billy)
Billy: What's wrong with that guy?
Jim: You mean today? He stepped on a George Forman Grill and
he burned his foot.
Billy: No, not Michael. The moon-faced kid who crashed into
the pole. He looks like he has a concussion.
(Jim looks at the camera as if just now taking thinking of
that possibility)
CUT TO MICHAEL'S OFFICE
(Michael is popping his cast)
Michael: Hey!
(Ryan walks in)
Ryan: I found the pudding cups you wanted at a gas station
in Carbondale!
Michael: You did it. Look at you! And with the plate and the
napkin. Very nice. Thank you, Ryan.
Ryan: You're very welcome.
Michael: Did you get the yams?
Ryan: (feigning surprise) No, the gas station in Carbondale
did not have fresh yams.
Michael: (sighs) Okay. I'll just have the pudding.
Ryan: You sure?
Michael: Yeah.
Ryan: Okay.
CUT TO INDUVIDUAL SHOT OF MICHAEL
(He is eating the pudding)
Michael: You know what? I feel better. Ryan brought me some
chocolate pudding and his kindness healed my foot.
CUT TO THE OFFICE
(Dwight is sitting at his desk staring into space,
unblinking)
(Michael comes out of his office)
Michael: Yeah, baby! I am feelin' better. My body's
literally healing itself. It is amazing what the human body is capable of when
you have a powerful brain.
(Quick cut of Ryan crushing some asiprin with a spoon)
Ryan: (VO) I ground up four extra strength asiprin and put
them in Michael's pudding.
CUT TO INDUVIDUAL SHOT OF RYAN
Ryan: I do the same thing for my dog to get him to take his
heartworm medicine.
CUT BACK TO THE OFFICE
Michael: Ohh, finally feel the blood coursing through my
foot veins.
(A thud is heard)
Dwight: Ohh!
(The camera pans around to show Dwight laying on his desk)
Jim: Oh! Okay, I think we need to take him to the hospital,
because...I'm pretty sure he has a concussion.
(Angela helps Jim put Dwight upright)
Michael: Oh, now you feel some compassion for him.
(Dwight is holding his head)
Angela: He needs to go right now. And you're his emergency
contact. I think you should go with him.
Michael: Why don't you go with him?
Angela: (flustered) I...barely know him.
Dwight: I want Michael to take me.
Michael: I can't take you. I don't have my car.
Dwight: Please?
Michael: And yours is all vomity.
Meredith: You can take my van!
Michael: Oh, okay. That's great. No, I can't drive. Jim, why
don't you drive?
Jim: Fine.
Michael: We'll go. I'm still recovering. So let's just-
Ryan, can you get my coat please?
(Jim helps Dwight walk to the door)
Jim: Slowly. 'Kay? Let's just get to the elevator.
(Dwight starts making helicopter sounds)
Jim: What are you doing?
Dwight: Vietnam sounds.
Jim: Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.
(Jim puts Dwight down on the couch)
Dwight: Tired.
Jim: Can't lay down.
Dwight: Just take a rake-
(Jim grabs the water sprayer from a nearby plant)
(He sprays Dwight in the face)
Jim: Wake up!
Dwight: Ahh!
Pam: Wait, here, let me help you Dwight. Come on. Get up.
Dwight: Thanks.
Pam: Get up.
Dwight: You're the best.
Pam: Yeah.
Jim: Just keep him awake.
Dwight: It smells like chicken soup.
(Pam starts walking Dwight to the door as Jim goes to get
the keys)
Pam: I know.
Dwight: I have to go to the hospital.
Pam: I know.
Dwight: Where are we going?
Pam: I just wanna say good-bye, okay?
Dwight: I'll be back, I mean...
Pam: Yes, I know. But it's gonna be different.
Dwight: Why?
Pam: It's just hard to explain.
Dwight: Oh, Pam, you're adorable.
(Dwight leans in and taps Pam on the nose)
Pam: Oh, my goodness. Come here.
(Pam hugs Dwight)
Dwight: Ohh. Huggy hugs.
(Pam laughs)
CUT TO OUTSIDE
(Jim is helping Dwight)
(Michael opens the door)
Michael: Shotgun!
Jim: You don't think you should sit in the back with Dwight?
CUT TO INDUVIDUAL SHOT OF MICHAEL
Michael: The rules of shotgun are very simple and very
clear. The first person to shout shotgun when you're within the sight of the
car gets the front seat. That's how the game's played. There are no exceptions
for someone with a concussion.
CUT BACK TO OUTSIDE
Michael: Oh, God, a minivan. What is Meredith's problem?
Jim: Well, I think she has a kid.
Michael: Yeah, she has one kid and no husband. She's not
going to find one driving this thing around.
Dwight: Where are we going?
Jim: Come on. Get inside.
Dwight: Where are we going?
Jim: We're going to Chuck E. Cheese.
Michael: Chuck E. Cheese? Oh, God. I'm so sick of Chuck E.
Cheese.
Jim: We're going to the hospital, Michael.
Michael: I know. I'm just sayin'...
CUT TO THE VAN
(They are on their way to the hospital)
(Michael turns around in his seat to find Dwight opening a
liquor bottle)
Michael: Dwight, what are you drinking?
Dwight: I found it under the seat.
(Jim looks in the rearview mirror)
Jim: Oh, my God. Dwight.
Dwight: I'm thirsty.
Jim: Put that down.
(Jim sprays Dwight with the water bottle)
Dwight: Noo!
Jim: Give the bottle to Michael.
Dwight: Noo!
(Jim sprays Dwight again)
Jim: Just give the bottle to Michael.
Dwight: I'm thirsty.
Michael: Just give it to me-
(Michael tries to grab it away, Jim looks)
Michael: Just keep your eyes on the road. Give me the bottle
or you're fired.
Dwight: You can't fire me, I don't work in this van!
Michael: Give it to me, Dwight!
(Michael attempts to grab it again)
Dwight: No, stop.
Michael: Give me the bottle!
Jim: Will you stop?
Michael: Give me the bottle, Dwight!
Jim: Michael, stop!
Michael: Just give it!
Jim: Michael, stop!
(Jim sprays Michael)
Michael: Just...stop it!
(Jim sprays Dwight)
Dwight: Ahh!
Michael: Stop spraying! Gimmme the bottle.
Jim: Stop!
(Sprays Michael)
Michael: Stop spraying me! Gimme the bottle!
CUT TO THE HOSPITAL
(Michael is filling out the paper work)
(Dwight is sitting there, mouth agape, completely dazed)
Michael: Dwight, what is your middle name?
Dwight: Danger.
Michael: Something with a "K."
Jim: It's Kurt. Wow, I'm so sad that I know that.
Michael: What do I write under reason for visit?
Jim: Concussion.
(Michael scratches something out)
Jim: What did you write?
Michael: Ahem, nothing. I wrote "bringing someone to
the hospital."
Jim: So you thought they meant YOUR reason for coming to the
hospital.
Michael: No, no. You know what, Jim? This isn't about me
anymore. I made a miraculous recovery, which is more than I can say for him.
(Dwight starts closing his eyes and leaning towards Jim)
Jim: Come on, Dwight.
(Jim sprays Dwight, he wakes up)
Dwight: Hi, Michael.
Michael: Hi, Dwight.
CUT TO EXAM ROOM
(The doctor is shining a light in Dwight's eyes)
Dwight: Ahh. Uhh.
Michael: Doctor, what is more serious, a head injury or a
foot injury?
Doctor: A head injury.
Michael: Well, you don't have all the information. The foot
had been severly burned, and, uh, healed quickly. very quickly. Actually, like
suspiciously quickly.
Doctor: So I'm ordering a CAT scan.
Dwight: What is that?
Michael: Look, since you have the machine up and running,
can I just stick my foot in? We can take a look....
Doctor: Well...for a burn, you really just need to look at
the outside of the foot.
Michael: Okay, what kind of machine is that?
Doctor: Does the skin look red and swollen?
Dwight: That's what she said.
(Dwight looks slyly at the camera, the doctor laughs)
Michael: That's my joke. Damn it, Dwight.
CUT TO HALLWAY
(Dwight is being pushed in a wheelchair, Michael is crutch
walking beside them)
Radiologist: Okay, no electronics past this point. (she
looks at the camera) Camera, sound equipment.
Michael: It's okay, they're with me.
Radiologist: No metal of any kind.
Michael: All right, well, I guess this is where we leave you
off.
Dwight: I don't wanna do this.
Michael: Uh, well, you should have thought of that before
you crashed your head on your way to pick me up, so...we'll see you when you
get out.
Dwight: (sadly) Oh.
Michael: Fine, fine.
(Michael puts his crutches against the wall, takes off his
microphone and watch)
CUT TO THE OFFICE
(The phone rings)
Pam: Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam.
CUT TO THE HOSPITAL
Jim: Dunder Mifflin, this is Jim.
Pam: (on phone) Oh, my God, what's going on?
CUT TO OFFICE
Pam: Is Dwight okay?
Jim: (on phone) Mm-hmm, he should be fine. But they brought
him in for a CAT scan.
Pam: I can't believe he's getting a CAT scan.
CUT TO THE SCANNING ROOM AT THE HOSPITAL
(Dwight is lying on the table of the machine)
(Dwight lifts his hand to Michael as the table moves)
Jim: (VO) Michael went in there with him too. It's pretty
sweet.
Pam: Really? Michael went in with him?
Jim: (VO) Mm-hmm.
CUT TO OFFICE
Pam: Wow.
Jim: (on phone) But they shouldn't be much longer now. So
we'll be back soon.
(The camera pulls out to show Angela listening from over the
partition)
Pam: Okay, that's...
(Pam looks over to Angela, Angela quickly ducks her head)
Pam: ...good news. Um, (looks at camera confused) uh, yeah,
no. I'll let you go.
Jim: Okay.
Pam: okay.
Jim: Bye.
Pam: Bye.
(Pam hangs up the phone and looks back to where Angela was)
(She looks at the camera and smiles, she's figured it out)
(Pam leans over the copier)
Pam: Hey, Oscar?
Oscar: What's up Pam?
Pam: I just wanted to let you know that Dwight's gonna be
okay.
(The camera slowly starts zooming in on Angela who's trying
to listen without being obvious)
Pam: The doctor said there's a really simple treatment for a
concussion, so he'll probably even be back at work tomorrow.
(Angela has a worried look on her face)
Oscar: Okay.
Pam: I just, uh, thought you'd wanna know that.
CUT TO HOSPITAL
(Michael has his hand on Dwight's foot as he's in the
machine)
(Michael smells his hand)
Radiologist: Okay, Mr. Schrute, inhale with me on three.
One, two...
(Michael quickly sticks his foot into the machine)
Radiologist: Sir, stop that. Stop...Stop that.
(Michael takes his foot out of the machine)
THE END
==========================
Transcribed by NIKKI for http://www.twiztv.com
==========================