If I ever met John C. McGinley, I'd briefly rub nose, fold my arms, and give him a long, hard, Dr. Cox-like stare. I'd stand silent and motionless, looking right into his eyes with equal parts of anger and indifference.

Then I'd start to laugh and give him a great big hug, just like J.D. would do.

Right before I got punched in the face.

And it would totally be worth it.