All language subtitles for becker 3-12-----

(Transcribed by TurboScribe. Go Unlimited to remove this message.) Hey, here's a positive message to the youth

of America, you know, don't study, play football.

I mean, after all, some dumb running back

from an illiterate state university just signed an

$85 million contract.

Now, can he add?

No.

Subtract?

No.

Can he even write his own name?

Hey, come on, he doesn't have to.

All he needs is for somebody to pry

the beer can out of his beefy hand,

slap in a crayon and show him where

to mark the X.

Hey, buddy, what's your problem?

I'll tell you what my problem is, a

bunch of overpaid, overfed, pituitary freaks standing around

in ladies' pants blowing in their hands like,

ooh, it's cold out here, while the rest

of the world showers them with money, applause

and sneaker endorsements.

Yeah, and I'm betting this isn't the first

time you've come in this place spouting your

mouth off on a subject you knew nothing

about.

You got that right.

Yesterday he came in.

Hey, I'm talking here.

You don't know the first damn thing about

football.

You don't know what it's like to wake

up in so much pain.

You don't even know if you can get

out of bed, let alone go out onto

a practice field.

You know, at best, you got a what,

a five-year career?

That is if you don't have a career

-ending injury in your first game.

The last thing you need is some big

-mouthed, can't-eat-ass, knock-kneed dork crapping

all over your professions.

And by the way, I'm very self-conscious

about these beefy hands.

You believe that guy?

Believe him?

I love him.

Mrs. Collins, I want you to go home

and relax.

I'll have a better idea of what's causing

your rapid heartbeat once I get all your

lab tests back.

In the meantime, I want you to avoid

anything overly stimulating.

Well, do the best you can.

Do better.

Was that Mrs. Collins?

I want to thank her for bringing in

the herbal tea and the sugar-free cookies.

This diet is killing me.

You're on a diet?

No, Margaret is.

And between you and me, it's making her

real B-I-T-C-C when Mrs.

Collins brought you all sugarless.

And tasteless.

Get them away from me.

You don't have to bite my head off.

Like I need more empty calories.

Excuse me.

Are you Dr. John Baker?

Yep.

Try as I might.

No one else wants the job.

My name is Janet Katz.

I work in a nursing home in Philadelphia.

And, well, there's never a good way to

say this.

A former patient of yours, Harry Grandstaff, recently

passed away.

I'm sorry.

I know you were close.

Grandstaff.

He was such a sweet man, and he

was always talking about you.

No one was ever as smart, kind, or

understanding as Dr. Baker.

So he was delirious at the end.

Grandstaff.

You know, I really have no idea.

He named you at his will.

Any idea how I'm going to make it

through the day knowing that?

So what'd Dr. Baker get?

Oh, my Lord.

His ashes?

He left me his ashes?

I guess he felt you'd know the right

thing to do with them.

Are you saying there's a dead guy in

there?

Then, uh, show a little respect.

Sorry.

But he is in there, right?

Why me?

What about his family?

He had no one left.

In the end, there was just you and

me.

Well, what about you?

You know, it doesn't seem fair that I

get to keep this, and you walk away

empty-handed.

Actually, uh, Harry left me a rather nice

sum of money.

You got the money, I got the ashes?

John!

I'm not saying it's not an honor.

I'm just wondering what I did to deserve

it.

Oh, where are my manners?

Would you like a cup of coffee?

Oh, thank you, but I've got to get

to the airport.

Thanks to Harry, I'm finally going to get

to see Italy.

Goodbye, Dr. Baker.

I'll enjoy the trip so much more now

that I know Harry's in such good hands.

All right.

Thank you.

Have fun.

Don't worry.

I'll take good care of Harry.

Okay.

Throw that away for me, will you?

John!

This man was a patient.

He liked you, and he trusted you with

his remains.

You can't just toss him in the trash.

Well, we can't leave him on the counter.

It's kind of bad for business.

I want him out of here by the

time I get back from lunch.

Well, what do you expect me to do?

Flush him down the toilet like Linda's goldfish?

Hey, you told me Goldie went to live

on a farm.

John, his soul may have gone to heaven,

but he still deserves to be treated with

dignity.

So say a prayer, then flush him.

Linda, go back to that game of chance

you call a filing system and see if

you can find Mr. Grandstaff's file.

Maybe it will give us a clue about

what to do with him.

It doesn't matter who Harry was, because this

is not Harry, you know?

Come on, just toss him in the trash.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

You're so heartless.

You do it.

You take the body of that kind old

man and you just toss him in the

trash with the candy wrappers and the cookie

crumbs.

What's the matter?

You said it yourself.

It's not really Harry.

All right.

Fine.

All right, Margaret.

I knew you couldn't do it.

Oh, I can do it.

I'm just not gonna do it here or

you'll never let me hear the end of

it.

I'm gonna toss it in a dumpster.

There are people who eat out of dumpsters.

Circle of life, Margaret.

Circle of life.

You know, Mike, I was thinking about what

we could do this weekend and I came

up with a great idea.

Oh, yeah?

What's that?

Well, there's this new exhibit at the Whitney

and I'm dying to see it.

And I thought we could go.

Let me see him.

Get real.

Maybe a movie.

I love movies.

Saturday night?

Saturday.

Uh, I'm supposed to go to Jim's to

catch the Knick game but just leave it

open and I'll let you know.

Oh, um, I'm gonna be home tonight.

Good.

Bye.

What is wrong with you?

What are you talking about?

You know, it may be none of my

business but Mike treats you like dirt and

what's worse is that you let him.

Look, I'll admit Mike's a little self-involved

but I don't care.

I like him.

Wait a minute.

He's really good looking, isn't he?

I could lick his face like a dove

bar.

Jake, Reg, coffee, please.

What's that?

Some patient of mine died.

Left me his ashes.

Ew, Becker!

Get it off the counter.

It's not sanitary.

Reg, he's dead.

Your counter can't hurt him now.

You're carrying around a dead man?

Yeah.

What's the matter with everyone?

You know, this is no more still a

man than that burger you're eating is still

a horse.

Greetings, sweathearts.

Hey, I got your message about fixing your

refrigerator.

So did you fix it?

You're on the list.

What list?

Okay, you got me.

There's no list.

So what's in the cookie jar?

One of his patients.

He left me his ashes.

Too bad.

If he left you his whole body you

could drive in the carpool lane.

I tried to throw in a dumpster, but

the bums kept staring at me.

Garbage?

That's pretty cold, huh?

Why'd he pick you?

Apparently because I'm kind and understanding.

So he was delirious at the end.

Well, he still deserves better than a dumpster.

What's the difference?

Well, when you die, would you like to

be tossed in the trash?

I could care less.

All I know is I don't want my

funeral to be sad.

I want a big party with people drinking

and laughing and having a good time.

I don't think you'll have to worry about

that, Bob.

How about you, John?

Yeah, I'd go to that party.

One thing I do know, I want a

big funeral where people come and celebrate my

life and talk about all the great things

I've done.

Man, I gotta start doing some great things.

You people just don't get it.

It doesn't matter.

As far as I'm concerned, plant me, fry

me, shoot me into space.

The human body is just a package, a

shell.

It's nothing.

What about the soul?

Fine.

Play Gladys Knight when I die.

How about you, Reg?

Got any special plans?

I'm with Becker.

What anyone wants to do with my body

is fine with me.

Oh, the nights Bob has spent dreaming of

hearing you say that.

After I'm dead.

And even then, I don't want to be

alone with you.

I mean that.

Yeah, the name's Collins, Susan Collins.

I'm trying to determine the cause of an

irregular heartbeat, so I need a rush on

the blood work.

What do you mean, what do I mean?

I mean right away, in a hurry, in

a rush.

Don't you people have a word for that

in your language?

Well, that's the problem.

You need a shorter word for rush.

I need those blood tests back immediately.

Please tell me you're not using Mr. Grandstaff's

remains as a paperweight.

Not just as a paperweight.

Walnut?

I can't.

I'm on a diet.

And you are terrible.

You came in here for a reason, right?

Yes, I found a memorial park that'll take

him off your hands.

Oh, good.

How soon?

Soon as you write a check for $750.

For a hole in the wall?

Plus $250 for perpetual care.

Oh, come on.

He's dust.

What are they going to do?

Dust?

Look, I got you the information.

Use it, don't use it.

I really don't give a damn.

Just don't start with me.

You know, you're a real pain when you're

on a diet.

Well, at least I have an excuse.

Linda!

Why aren't you looking for Mr. Grandstaff's chart?

Why bother?

If I find it, is it going to

make him any less dead?

It's all so pointless.

We're all going to wind up like that.

I mean, in the end, what's the difference

between him and me?

Well, for starters, he's useful.

You see that?

See what he's doing to morale around here?

You know, the last thing Linda needs is

another excuse not to work.

I'm going to get rid of him.

Where?

I don't know.

I'll leave him in a cab somewhere.

Oh, why waste cab fare?

Why don't you just leave him on the

subway?

You know something?

That's a good idea.

Thanks, Margaret.

John, even somebody like you wouldn't leave a

dead man riding around on a subway.

Oh, come on.

It's not like he'd be the only one.

Oh!

Hey, hey,

hey.

Hey, that's mine.

That's mine.

Give me that.

Look, there happens to be a dead guy

in there.

Would you have a little respect, please?

Creep.

More coffee?

Please.

Thanks.

Are you all right?

Yeah, I'm fine.

I thought we'd have dinner at my place

tonight.

Oh, I'd love to, but you know I

have psych class on Monday night.

Skip it.

Well, I guess I could get notes from

someone.

Great.

I'll order from Giordano's.

Okay.

You can stop by and pick it up

on your way over.

And if I'm a little late, just wait

outside.

I'm going to hit the gym after work.

Do you believe the way that guy's treating

Reggie?

Nobody's that damn handsome.

Hey, you haven't seen this guy.

I mean, if Bob were a woman...

Now, what am I saying?

A guy like that would never look twice

at a woman like Bob.

Morning.

Hey, I thought you were getting rid of

Cinderella.

Get that creepy thing out of here.

You heard her, Bob.

Take off.

So, what are you eating?

Oh, doing a little research.

Trying to find out what's wrong with a

patient of mine.

Just a guess, Quincy, but I think somebody

burnt them up and put them in a

can.

Not this one.

I have a lady who has an irregular

heart beat.

I don't know what's causing it.

Before anybody says anything, I know how I

look and I don't care.

I'm just going to end up dead anyways.

So why should I bother taking a shower,

getting dressed or fixing my hair because...

Linda, Reg, excuse me.

I think I just found a reason to

live.

Sorry, Linda.

That's my reason to live.

You are so lucky.

Yeah, too bad you don't have a boyfriend

who orders you around and treats you like

dirt.

I do, but he doesn't look like that.

John, talk to Reg, would you?

Huh?

All right.

Coffee and a cheese omelette.

Okay, bad choice.

Linda, you're a woman.

Will you tell Reggie she needs more self

-esteem?

Would you say his eyes are more bluish

green or greenish blue?

Actually, they're more of a teal.

Did you hear that, Jake?

He has teal eyes.

So even if the way he treats me

appears to be bad for my self-esteem,

walking around with a guy that handsome actually

raises my self-esteem.

So the self-esteem factors cancel each other

out.

Leaving you with no self-esteem at all.

Exactly.

Look, I know it's not the healthiest relationship,

but Mike has other good qualities besides just

being handsome.

Can he make a cheese omelette?

Oh, he's not the most considerate guy I've

ever gone out with or the most attentive

or the most sensitive.

But I'll tell you what he is.

He's handsome.

Really handsome.

And I like him and I'm gonna keep

him.

Reg.

Oh, all right.

I'll throw him back.

Don't worry, Reg.

The perfect guy's out there somewhere.

My perfect guy doesn't exist.

Much like my omelette.

Well, uh, what exactly are you looking for?

Eggs, cheese.

I'm looking for someone who listens, who doesn't

criticize, who doesn't tune you out to watch

sports and who isn't in the relationship just

for sex.

You know anyone like that?

Reg, meet Harry.

Well, I see Harry's back.

I knew you couldn't get rid of him.

I can, too.

And I'm going to.

The problem's not me.

It's the city.

Huh?

Not one place in all five boroughs where

you can get rid of a dead guy.

Damn Giuliani.

Oh, you're now fooling me for a second.

You know that that's a human being or

was a human being and you are too

good of a person to just throw him

out.

Oh, yeah?

First good win, this guy's in Jersey.

You know what?

So, should I call the Memorial Park or

not?

Oh, all right.

I guess so.

Go on.

It's insane, you know?

Thousands of bucks for a hole in the

wall.

It's just insane.

You hear me?

You know, I'll tell you something, Harry.

You are more of a pain in the

ass dead than you were alive.

At least I think you are because I

don't really remember who you were.

Oh, I forgot to tell you the lab

faxed over Mrs. Collins' test results.

I mean, they look pretty good.

What do you think?

This doesn't make any sense.

It's all normal.

There's no reason for her rapid heartbeat.

Well, it's still going on.

She called a little while ago.

Oh.

Oh, and John, I heard you in here.

Don't talk to the urn.

It's weird.

I was not talking to the urn.

Do you believe her?

No.

You know, Mike, I don't appreciate the way

you treat me.

I deserve better.

And frankly, I have too much self-esteem

to continue in this relationship.

Tonight?

Come on.

What can it hurt?

Sorry, Mike.

Pick up your own shirts.

All right.

Reggie with the dump-up.

Dump-up?

What are you talking about?

Don't you see?

You just dumped a really good-looking guy.

So you dumped up.

No one ever dumps up.

Yeah, I did, didn't I?

Yeah.

Only someone who felt really good about themselves

could have done that.

You're right.

I got rid of a really great-looking

guy.

So what if I'm all alone?

I'm proud of myself.

You're actually buying this?

Shut up, Bob.

It's all I've got.

You know, guys like Mike need to hear

the truth more often.

In fact, I'd like to call him and

tell him off, too.

What's his number?

You just want his number so you can

sleep with him, don't you?

Well, yes, but afterwards there'll be some pretty

stern pillow talk.

I just don't get it, Harry.

You know, every one of Mrs. Collins' tests

came back negative.

Electrolytes, CBC, hormone levels are fine, so it's

not the asthma medication.

Doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, she's always on a

diet.

What is it with women and diets, anyway?

Diet herbal tea, sugarless cookies, all that crap.

Oh, that's it.

Ephedra.

Hey, Margaret!

Thank you, Harry.

What is it?

Get Mrs. Collins on the phone, tell her

to stop drinking her diet tea.

It's filled with ephedra.

I think it's reacting with her asthma medication.

It's making her heart race.

Oh, okay, good.

Oh, John, I'm drinking that tea, too.

Should I stop?

Not unless you're being treated for asthma.

Well, could I be?

Because I really hate that tea.

Margaret, I didn't put you on this diet,

you did.

What is it with you women?

You want to end up looking like this?

You want to quit your diet?

Quit your diet.

Amazing.

Okay, you're the doctor.

I found out who Mr. Grandstaff was.

Finally.

I was looking under D for dead when

I suddenly realized that he was an O

for old guy.

And I was like, duh.

So then I looked in the O...

File, will you?

Harry Grandstaff.

Born 1912.

Lived in Gerrard Avenue.

Worked 45 years as a doorman at the

Carlisle Hotel.

Of course.

Harry, the doorman.

Harry, I am so sorry.

I forgot you.

You're talking to it again.

No, no.

This is not an it, Linda.

This is Harry, the doorman.

After he retired, he was coming in here

all the time with little ailments and I

could never find out what was wrong with

him.

Well, considering how he ended up, maybe he

should have looked a little harder.

Linda, there was nothing wrong with him except

that he was lonely.

He used to come here for the company.

Here?

He was lonely.

Well, I'm gonna go.

I gotta get to the laundry before it

closes.

I'm going out with this new guy and

I gotta pick up his shirts.

Can't believe Harry's dead.

Oh.

You know, I used to look forward to

his visits.

Remember all the stories he used to tell

about the famous people he met?

I remember you told me that Sinatra once

tipped him a hundred bucks.

Harry was a good guy.

Yeah.

Ah, well.

I guess I'll drop him at the Memorial

Park on my way home.

You know, there's no need for that.

I think I have an idea here.

What?

You're gonna just leave him on the floor?

He's a doorman, you know.

I'll, uh, you know, put him back to

work.

Harry, I think you're gonna like it here.

Hours are good.

The people are nice.

But don't expect a tip from John at

Christmas.

Margaret, don't talk to the urn.

It's weird.