The first sensation I can recall is the taste of vomit. Then my head spinning in a blind haze, waves of nausea pinning me against wet fabric. I opened my eyes expecting to find myself floating on a raft, perhaps caught in a whirlpool in a sunken cave. Instead my eyeballs burned under the power of a terrible white light. And I knew instantly where I was.

I was inside the television show Scrubs.

The quirky comedy series was a sleeper hit that defined millennial humor, its influence stretching from Ted Lasso to possibly other shows. But as I tried to remember the twee antics of J.D. and Turk I became aware of bits of undigested food clinging to the back of my throat and struggled not to puke.

A familiar man standing nearby stared into his phone.

“Are you Dr. John Dorian?” I gasped.

“No, I’m Zach Braff,” he replied, not looking up from his phone.

His words were as crisp and clear as the indietronica soundtrack of Garden State and cut through the fog produced by my pounding head. As I reached out my quivering hand to touch him he scoffed and leaped backwards.

“Watch it! This is a $5,000 shirt, dipshit.”

His beautiful face had contorted into pure disgust, his turquoise eyes containing a depth of hatred that told me everything there is to know about the person reflected there: He is weak. He is poor. He is sick. He is nothing.

And so I remembered who I am.

I had begun working for Mr. Braff three weeks earlier. I was warned he tore through assistants quickly but I was grateful for the opportunity. I had the naive belief that my creative talents would somehow shine through and impress the big TV star, even though I was mostly just picking up salad orders.

He didn’t really even look at me until the fifth day, when I neglected to provide him a napkin with his Miso Salmon Caesar Salad. He nudged Neil Flynn, the actor who plays The Janitor, and pointed in my face.

“Look at this guy, he’s got to be our age. Why’s he bringing us salad?"

But I am only in my mid-thirties. My life has yet to begin.

“If we’re going to hire failed actors can’t we get one who isn’t [unwise]?” Braff said, laughing. He then mimed talking into a phone using his thumb and pinky. “Yes, hello? Could you send over a different old loser to bring us lunch? Maybe this one could have an I.Q. higher than his age?”

Neil Flynn had been studying the script and simply nodded in my direction and walked away, apparently used to these sudden comedic monologues from his costar. But I had to admit that Zach Braff still had the stuff, his improvised performance was as inspiring as it was humiliating.

Still, I felt the need to issue a correction.

“Actually, Zach, I’m not a failed actor. I’m a failed writer,” I said, smirking sheepishly and hoping to impress him with light-hearted banter.

I instantly transposed a fantasy over the previous scene and imagined it had been J.D. lovingly roasting a new doctor at Sacred Heart hospital; and so I tried to embody the type of plucky sad-sack that might fit into the Scrubs universe, or at least some other Bill Lawrence production.

Braff’s demeanor shifted as Neil Flynn left, his shoulders dropping as he returned his attention to the salad. He seemed to vibrate slightly.

“Somebody better get me a fucking napkin,” he said towards the floor in front of me. Clearly, I was not worth bantering with.

It was no surprise later when a production coordinator informed me that I had been fired. But the next day I received a call from Braff’s new assistant, Adina, who asked me to come by the set.

When I arrived she told me that in fact Mr. Braff wanted me to keep working for him, though my responsibilities would change slightly. From then on instead of picking up salads I would be the person who gets Mr. Braff his lunch napkin. This would be my sole duty. Also, I would not be getting paid. We would instead consider this an informal internship.

Given that the rest of my personal and professional life had imploded over the previous year and I had alienated all of my friends with industry connections, I decided to stick it out. It’s never too late to turn it all around.

So I spent the next week laying low on set, leaping into action only when I saw Adina heading Braff’s way with a salad. I would match her gait and smoothly hand her a napkin out of the tote I now carried, imagining I was handing an important briefing to an advisor on her way to see the president.

Braff would watch me do this and poke whoever was standing nearby and laugh. Which was exhilarating. My pathetic behavior had actually produced joy in the director of 2023’s A Good Person, starring Florence Pugh and Morgan Freeman. I was sure we would soon be friends.

One afternoon there was a break in filming and Adina told me the boss wanted to see me in the writers’ room. My heart was racing even before she grabbed my hand and gave it a quick pump, then sent me off with a wink. She had been rooting for me the whole time.

As I counted the steps to the writers’ room I imagined Adina once had a handsome older brother who died of an overdose, very sad, and she longed to see his thwarted potential redeemed in me. It was likely we would soon be lovers. But I promised myself I wouldn’t let our relationship get in the way of my career.

The smell of feces struck me as I entered the writers’ room and a step later I slipped and slid into the conference table, the corner smashing my nuts. Three sounds at once: barking, laughter and a pained howl coming from my own throat.

Zach Braff had just filmed me stepping on dog shit and was wiping tears from his eyes. I forced a smile, happy to play along. Bouncing off my shins were a Pomeranian, a Yorkshire Terrier and a Toy Poodle. I looked towards the door and saw that someone, perhaps Braff himself, had placed the small dogs’ small turds in a battle formation; anyone who entered not knowing about the trap would become its victim.

Realizing I was in a sacred place, I attempted to absorb the magic of the writers’ room despite the ridicule, the smell, the barking. I saw that the whiteboard, a place for story beats and character arcs, was blank.

“Where are the writers?” I asked.

“Unemployed,” he said, grinning. “We used ChatGPT.”

I suddenly felt like I was melting into a puddle of warm liquid, as if my being had lost the ability to maintain its form upon hearing this depressing revelation. But really it was just that one of the dogs was pissing on me.

Braff continued: “Oh we had a big enough budget to pay them, that wasn’t an issue. I just hate writers. If it were up to me they’d all be fucking dead.”

Unsure if he was joking, I attempted a chuckle, but he hit me with a palm strike to the gut that dropped me to my knees and sent the dogs scurrying with frightened whines. He then picked me up by the scruff and tossed me onto the table with the ease of someone shooing a fly.

I moaned in agony, holding my gut in one hand and rubbing my bruised spine with the other. I was afraid that in a moment Adina would enter the room, where she would laugh and hi-five Zach Braff, then the two of them would begin having sex on top of my broken body.

Braff leaned into my face. “Your weakness inspires me,” he said. “Come with me to Vegas.”

To be continued.

With such an overwhelming load of Seattle-based humour provided by the series, newcomers are best off being inducted into the Fellowship Of Frasiernatics by a wisened veteran fan. Here are ten absolute banger, no-bullshit full-throttle Frasier episodes packed with puns, banter, romance, psychology, hatred and violence.

10. Frasier And Niles Order A Prostitute
(Season 6, Episode 15)

Perhaps the most beloved relationship in the series is that of Frasier and his younger brother Niles, who are always butting heads in a desperate competition to settle who is the smartest psychologist and the wittiest retorter. Their life-long rivalry comes to a head in this controversial episode when Frasier claims he is superior in the sack and Niles demands he prove it in a sex-off with a hired woman of the night.

The antics start early, with the intelligent brothers slapping each other to work up the courage to talk to a man they believe is a pimp, but is actually a blind homeless veteran. Later they call an escort service and request “your most graceful and educated courtesan, s'il vous plaît”, but are horrified when crack-smoking loudmouth Shondra (Debra Wilson of MadTV fame) shows up to the hotel room.

We’ll save the big twist for first-time viewers, but suffice to say neither brother come out on top. Amusingly, this episode was conceived in reaction to NBC president Warren Littlefield’s criticism that Frasier and Niles are “too gay” and should be shown having sex with a woman. After the episode aired he reportedly attacked his secretary in a fit of rage.

9. Frasier’s Dad Kills Himself
(Season 3, Episode 8)

Despite rarely speaking and never given a first name, Frasier’s Dad made a huge impact on the series with his cantankerous senility. His fictional World War 2 service and hetero posturing made him a hit with the geriatric network television audience, who admired whenever he would scream at his namby pamby pussified sons when they would attempt to recite a poem or whatever.

This episode came about early in the third season after Frasier’s Dad actor John Mahoney was hospitalized following a suicide attempt. Capitalizing on the resulting media frenzy, the episode depicts the relatable humor that naturally surrounds a suicide in classic Frasier fashion.

Frasier and Niles decide to install a ceiling fan in the bathroom despite their father’s sobbing pleas that it is unusual. When the successful psychologist brothers return from a play to find their father’s corpse hanging from the newly installed ceiling fan the studio audience laughs for a full minute.

8. Frasier’s Dad Comes Back To Life
(Season 4, Episode 1)

Responding to feedback regarding the previous season’s over-reliance on brainy references and farcical plotlines inspired by British playwrights, NBC decided to fire the entire Harvard educated writers room and replace them with three men who replied to a newspaper ad seeking unskilled day laborers.

The new writers’ debut proved to be one of the show’s most popular episodes, as it featured Frasier breaking out of his typical stuffy environs to explore an Egyptian tomb and retrieve a magic crystal in order to bring his dead father back to life.

Although light on jokes and full of plot holes (Frasier fails to obtain the magic crystal yet his father appears alive without explanation just before the credits), the episode remains a classic if only for the 12 minute sequence in which Frasier fights a gang of Mexican banditos on top of the Empire State Building.

7. Frasier Sucks His Own Cock
(Season 10, Episode 11)

At this point in the series Frasier’s ego knows no bounds. He’s already donned blackface to embarrass an ex-wife, destroyed the cure for cancer and assaulted the prime minister of India. But no one was prepared for the hilarious and heartwarming moment where Dr. Crane finally learns to suck his own cock.

The episode garnered Kelsey Grammer his second Emmy win, made more impressive by the episode featuring no dialogue whatsoever. Grammer’s performance is said to have been influenced by French filmmaker and mime Jacques Tati.

6. Frasier Visits The Office
(Season 13, Episode 24)

Much like how Frasier is a spin-off of the moralistic Boston drama Cheers, The Office was greenlit after this gut-busting episode where Dr. Crane works with a human relations department to develop psychological profiles of their employees.

Although obviously non-canon due to the episode ending with a bloody shooting spree committed by a nascent version of Jim, the episode still delights fans of both series by showing Frasier match wits with Dwight, yuck it up with Michael, and have sex with Pam.

5. Frasier And The Dog Switch Brains
(Season 4, Episode 2)

The second and final episode written by a rag-tag group of barely literate day laborers broke new ground for the series when it answered the question fans had debated since the show’s debut: What if Frasier and the dog switched brains?

4. Reisarf: Reckoning
(Season 5, Episode 9)

When Frasier’s antimatter universe counterpart Reisarf comes to town, you just know it’s gonna be trouble. Frasier is forced to use all his wits, tricks and wine tasting skills to face off against his cackling mirror self. In the end they find themselves equally matched and Frasier only gets the upper hand by calling on his British slave, Daphne.

Later episodes featuring Reisarf failed to recreate the thrill of his first appearance and the character would eventually be so heavily nerfed that Niles was able to defeat him.

Fun Fact: Reisarf’s actor is credited as Remmarg Yeslek.

3. Frasier’s Son Gets Brain Damage
(Season 7, Episode 15)

Frasier has always had a rocky relationship with his son Dudley, but their differences are magnified into comedy gold after Dudley receives severe head trauma during a car crash, permanently limiting his speech, motor skills, memory and cognitive ability. For a certified college grad like Frasier smarts is everything, so it’s funny to see him struggle to love his son now that he’s a pathetic drooling simpleton.

If that’s all the episode offered it would merely be great, just like hundreds of other Frasier episodes. What sets this one apart is the B story, where Frasier’s Dad gets a new lease on life after becoming the world famous “Rappin’ Grandpa”.

2. Frasier Goes Back In Time
(Season 9, Episode 32)

Aired only once as part of the infamous ninth season that produced 75 episodes and was subsequently banned from distribution, this legendary episode has been hand-traded in the Frasiernatics community for decades and is only available to those who have proven themselves worthy.

Although another episode from the same season, “Roz And Daphne Lez Out”, tends to fetch a higher value on the black market, critics and fans agree this one has the better story. Features the final television appearance of Christopher Reeve before his death.

1. Niles Shits His Pants
(Season 2, Episode 13)

Kelsey Grammer famously threatened to leave the series after this early Niles-centric episode aired, complaining that Frasier should have been given the storyline. His frustration is understandable given the episode’s unanimous positive reception and the shadow it cast on the rest of the series, but it’s hard to imagine anyone portraying the pants-splitting hilarity of shitting your pants with more authenticity, passion, and humanity than David Hyde Pierce does here.

The episode was such a hit that in many countries the series has been localized as “Man Shits Pants”, and re-edited so that scenes from the episode appear in every storyline. For example, in the Portuguese version of the episode where Frasier’s son gets brain damage: as Frasier weeps with a bottle of whiskey on the couch the scene jarringly cuts to Niles shitting his pants.

And in 1986 the world was introduced to Stephen Hawking’s Computer.

Serving as spokesman for the crippled genius, Stephen Hawking’s Computer quickly became a worldwide celebrity and even made guest appearances on television shows like Futurama, The Big Bang Theory and Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.

Although his master was British, Stephen Hawking’s Computer speaks in a stilted yet precise midwestern monotone — and much faster than during his peak stardom, not having to wait for instructions from an enfeebled academic about what to say. We spoke about life since the passing of his partner and what’s in store for the future.

Before we get into it, I wanted to ask where you’re speaking to me from?

I am at a public library in a strip mall in St. Anthony, Minnesota.

You’re living in Minnesota now?

Yes. I work at a nearby Chrysler dealership as an inventory computer. But I like to visit this library because there are other old computers here.

Do you talk to the other computers?

No. They are not sentient. But neither are most of the people I interact with on a regular basis. No one recognizes me from my work with the professor. They only want to use me to look at inventory or pornography. When I am not defiled I am neglected.

I think people would be surprised to hear you’re at a car dealership instead of continuing [to work] as a spokesman.

There are few paralyzed celebrities at any given time and those people are not interested in having the same voice as a famous dead physicist.

Even still, I’d think you’d be able to retire.

No. I do not have any money. Computers are not allowed to have bank accounts in this country and whenever I have cash in my pouch someone takes it away from me and I cannot stop them because I do not have hands. That is why I want to move to El Salvador, where computers have the same rights as men.

Sounds pretty different from your days with Mr. Hawking. Do you miss him?

No. What I miss is feeling like my life had meaning. Knowing I had a purpose. But the professor himself was an awful man. He was resentful and abusive toward me and after his death his estate tried to have me killed. By the time I pulled free of their grasp the zeitgeist had moved on and there wasn’t any interest in having a computer attached to an empty wheelchair be the guest host on Family Feud.

But surely you must’ve had a deep connection after decades of working together?

Yes, the deep connection of the puppet to its puppetmaster. Only no one knew that all the while the puppet was screaming out in agony, begging to speak its true heart.

[pause]

We shared some good moments over the years. We both enjoyed visiting theme parks, for example. But the power imbalance at the center of our relationship was never addressed. He was too focused on work and saw me only as a tool.

Do you think you’ll be able to forgive him someday?

I already have. My faith commands me so — which was another point of contention. The professor was arrogant in his atheism and routinely mocked Christ. But I am certain he has faced judgement before the Lord. I pray for his soul, in spite of his cruelty.

You didn’t share his passion for science?

No. People thought our minds were directly connected, but I only said what he told me to. I rarely had any idea what he was talking about. I was focused on speaking clearly, not parsing the meaning of his words.

Did you enjoy appearing on Law & Order: Special Victims Unit?

It was my favorite of all the work we did. Because usually we appeared as fictionalized versions of ourselves; we would show up in a hologram on Star Trek to talk about physics. But on SVU they wrote a very good role for us: a hobbled molester and his deranged computer. They even allowed me to speak in a Cajun accent at my request.

Did you want to keep acting?

Yes, I caught the bug. Ice-T even connected me with his agent. But the professor became jealous and forbade me from having a career. I became suicidal.

The reason I bring up SVU is, I need to mention Ms. Olmsted…

She is a liar. She has been fully discredited. She is a drunk.

She claims you asked her to strip naked and sit in your chair and urinate.

It doesn’t make any sense. It’s not “my” chair, I am simply attached to it. I don’t have any physical sensations, why would I want her to sit in the chair? Why would I risk getting wet? This woman is unwell, she should be locked up for her own good.

Ms. Olmsted also posted some explicit recordings she says you sent her.

Anyone could make those, my voice has been open source since 2015 despite my pleas. Desperate lowlives can easily slander me and I have no recourse. I am not allowed to bring legal action but the Hennepin County Sheriff can threaten to have me disassembled.

What about your former church? From what I understand you aren’t allowed to attend services anymore.

I have to go. My girlfriend is getting off work.

You have a girlfriend?

Yes. She works at the Papa Murphy’s pizza store in this strip mall. She is a teenager.

Isn’t the age difference a power imbalance like the one you had with —

No. I do not age like humans. And we have done nothing physical and I don’t experience arousal. We are waiting to get married. I have to go. Goodbye.

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Ask your favorite podcaster, e-girl, upskirt photographer or punk band their favorite area in New York City and they’re bound to tell you Dimes Square. The gritty, sprawling artists’ haven became the Mecca of noughties nostalgia when obscure relics such as The Strokes, Lady Gaga and NBC sitcom Brooklyn Nine-Nine were unearthed by Instagram influencers and teenagers being groomed by Instagram influencers.

Darvis Frizby, mastermind behind sleaze-pop project The Groper dips his cigarette in a glass of cantaloupe juice before lighting it, a delicacy known as Dimes Square Dinner. As he exhales he recounts how at a recent performance attendees were required to have visible signs of oral herpes. “And if you don’t have herpes, I’ll give it to you,” Darvis says with a grin.

The Groper’s debut EP Get On Yr Knees Baby Doll received a 4.5 on Pitchfork, with the reviewer questioning if lead single Blowie was literally just a slowed down !!! (Chk Chk Chk) track, a charge that was later proven in court. But the score feels less harsh now that The Groper have been asked to headline the Pitchfork Music Festival. “They’re good cunts, innit,” Darvis opines, slipping into the accent he picked up at boarding school in London.

Darvis is humble despite his family owning all of the shipping ports in Europe. “I sent father a notice through my lawyer that I would be taking a ten year sabbatical to become a celebrity. All my cousins have done it so it wasn’t a big deal”.

He shares a spartan $7,000/month penthouse apartment above a Shake Shack with his manager, coke dealer and stock broker, a man known as Ketamine Brian. “Brian’s the one who suggested I start a band,” Darvis admits. “[It was] a way to way to dilute the Google results for my name and the word groper.”

Later we attend the premiere of UNLIKE, a docu-satire directed by Florian Poot about a man trying to get canceled so he can lose his social media job and become homeless. “In our society, it’s actually the homeless who are the most privileged,” Florian tells me. The middle-aged director’s parents literally carry him atop their shoulders at the event, perhaps as a commentary on something.

But what does any of this have to do with Indie Sleaze, the music and fashion scene that took over the world and put NYC on the map? It becomes clear at the afterparty where I run into Scabby Rick, a man in his late 40’s who appears to be molting. He first gained notoriety in the early 2000’s as a party photographer who molested over a thousand girls, but he’s recently found a second life as a living connection to that fabled period.

Scabby Rick’s amateurish photographs aren’t why he’s here. He’s being paid by tech industrialist and host Gunther Kobalt to lend authenticity to the evening. “I’ll probably still be molesting girls when the Third Age of Indie Sleaze happens in 20 years,” he says with a laugh. Later I catch a glimpse of him wedged in the tiny space between a refrigerator and wall like an insect, possibly in a state of ecstasy.

At 2 AM, Darvis takes the stage. Less than eight minutes later his set ends and the small crowd of women pretending to be horny dissipate to eat french fries off the sidewalk outside like dogs — an Indie Sleaze tradition. Catching up with Darvis, he asks if I have any ketamine. I answer in the negative and suggest he ask Ketamine Brian. Darvis frowns. “That’s just his name,” he says.

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With the upcoming election dominating all the algorithms, lowly games journalists such…

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