Dr. Ken

Okay, Mr. Davis.

This Azelastine should take care of those allergies.

Thank you.

Hay-fever season wreaks havoc on my sinuses.

Well, is there anything else I can do for you?

No.

I'm just trying to spend more time with my patients

to make sure they don't feel shortchanged.

That's okay.

I feel like I got correct changed.

Good!

Then we can talk about me.

Ooh, a lot of stuff been going on with me lately.

My resident, Julie,

left to do a pediatric fellowship, and...

Oh! I tried stand-up comedy at the Laugh Factory.

Spoiler alert... I killed.

If I could just...

And that's the problem

when you're blessed with two massive talents.

Comedy, medicine... where can I do the most good?

Are you asking me?

No, it's rhetorical.

Anyway, I decided to go lives over laughs

because what matters to me most

are my patients and their needs.

And... oh.

And I know what you need...

To get to the pharmacy before it closes?

No, silly.

A link to my website where you can watch my performance.

Have fun, stay healthy,

and I'll see you back in a week to treat your split sides.

Ooh.

Looks like staying in medicine was the right call.

Okay.

Leave the jokes to me, Sniffles.

Poor Allison.

I mean, she's been killing herself at work lately.

Last night, she was like, "Wah!"

I work so hard, baby. I never get to see the kids.

"Wah!"

Are you sympathizing with her or mocking her?

I should cut her some slack.

She is in a tough sitch.

Well, she is the one who said "I do" all those years ago.

No, it's her psychiatry practice.

She's been wall-to-wall with patients,

her commute is brutal.

She complains about it constantly.

Let me guess... "Wah!"

Whoa, dude, that's not cool.

That's my wife you're talking about.

Hey, Ken, I couldn't help but hear you bloviate

about Allison's work woes,

and, well, we do have an opening

here at Welltopia in the Looney Wing.

I really don't think it's appropriate to call it that.

Well, if Robert and Eleanor Looney

are generous enough to endow our psychiatric wing,

then I will honor them by using their name.

So what do you think, Ken?

You think Allison would be interested?

- Here? - Mm-hmm.

Where I work?

Yeah.

Oof baboof.

I really think she'd miss her commute.

Uh, but you just said her commute was brutal.

Um, no.

Brutal as in epic. Sick!

Keep up with the lingo, Gramps.

I mean, your wife is a gem,

and having her here would just be... so brutal.

Call Allison Park.

Your Blackberry doesn't do that.

No, I was talking to Clark.

Call Allison Park.

No, no, no, Clark. No, uh... No.

She's with a patient. You know?

Probably gonna be a long sesh.

No calls during a sesh? Damn it!

That's just the kind of go-getter we need around here.

You mark my words, Ken... I will have you wife.

I mean professionally.

I mean, I'd never be inappropriate with a coworker.

Well, except for ones that I find irresistible.

- Don't do that. - Good call.

Okay.

So let me get this straight.

You wouldn't want Allison working here

even though it would make her life easier?

Look, don't get me wrong. Allison's my wife.

You know, I think she might be the one.

But I think we need

a little healthy separation sometimes.

You know, I mean, if I can't do

spot-on impressions of my wife behind her back,

then why am I here?

To cure sick people?

Oh, good. Good looking out.

I mean, I get it.

You wouldn't want to work with your boyfriend everyday.

Wait. What does Connor do, anyway?

Okay, here's the interesting thing about that.

I don't know.

But... but you've been together for like...

Three months. Yeah, I know.

And he told me on our first date,

but I was so busy picturing us hiking.

He was carrying our water.

I was carrying our twins.

I mean, I know I should have asked him to repeat himself,

but I didn't.

And now it just feels like too much time has passed.

So what? You just don't talk about work?

Oh, no, no.

He talks about work all the time.

Like, I know there's this woman, Elyse,

who constantly steals his yogurt from the breakroom fridge.

And I know there's this guy, Christophe,

who everyone thinks is so smart

but really, he's just Belgian.

Yo.

That yogurt nonsense is messed up.

No, the whole thing is messed up.

He should write his name on it.

I know I should be able to tell him anything,

but he's just... he's so sensitive.

What if he freaks out?

I-I can't risk it.

Look.

Here's one thing that I know for sure.

Somebody eat my yogurt, they gonna hear about it!

You know what?

Let me go check this refrigerator.

Somebody might be in my stuff and I...

Yes!

What are you doing?

This is how I keep my roshambo game sharp.

Check it out. Just got my SAT scores.

How'd you do?

Haven't opened it yet, but I think we both know.

What?

Oh, no!

Well, at least you're pretty.

How did this happen?

I am super smart, both book and street.

I was prepared.

I thought I did well.

I dropped the pencil like a mike.

Mom and dad are gonna freak out.

They're high-achieving doctors

who poured all their hopes and dreams into me!

- No offense. - None taken.

What am I gonna do?

Maybe mom and dad don't have to know.

Just take it again, do better,

and that's the score you show them.

But that'll take months.

They know my scores were due any day.

Leave that part to me.

I'm a master strategist.

When they're expecting paper, we'll throw scissors.

Not literally.

I know what a metaphor is.

Do you?

Mom stuck in traffic again?

Yeah.

She feels bad, but she said we should eat without her.

I hate being a latchkey kid.

Latchkey kids don't have any adult supervision.

I stand by it.

Hey, if no one's supervising,

then who made you these sick PB and J's?

I'm getting notes of candy coating.

Oh, yeah, well, we're out of peanut butter,

so I had to use Reese's Pieces, and...

Oh! Horizontal! Horizontal!

Okay.

Ooh. So Mol, still no SAT scores?

Not yet.

Man, they should be here any day now, shouldn't they?

Not necessarily.

There's some issue with the SAT scores and e-mail,

to hear NPR tell it.

Really?

Dad, enough about us. Let's talk about you.

Aww. Thanks, Dave.

Mol, learn from this.

Wine me. Hard.

Sorry, guys.

The commute took even longer

because Waze and I are in a fight.

And ever since they raised my office rent,

I have to make time for every nutface

who walks through the door.

And of course, every one of them

has a different insurance company.

And that's fun.