Listen up, people. Let's forget about Colonel Potter, Radar O’Reilly, and Corporal Klinger, kids, because Scrubs is the “new” After M*A*S*H for Generation X and its situational comedy soul. Not only that, but this (the seventh season) was supposed to be the show’s swan song, ending a fantastic seven-year run as one of the best comedies currently on network television (I refuse to call Scrubs “a sitcom” because that would be a slap to the face, like a cold, rather intrusive, rubber surgical glove dipped in petroleum jelly and inserted in any unwelcome place).

But as a fan of Scrubs from the very beginning, I refuse to live in a television universe without a proper resolution for this band of wacky doctors, nurses, surgeons, and other assorted “cut-ups” who have inhabited Sacred Heart Hospital (and my living room) for these last seven seasons.

If this current crop of new television programming wasn’t bad enough (I mean, come on, isn’t Eli Stone just Ally McBeal with testicles?), the writer' strike in Hollywood has made mincemeat out of most of my favorite shows this season. Sure, I’ll always have Scrubs (and hours and hours of pure bliss) in syndication and on DVD — but where’s my happy ending? What will happen to Dr. John “J.D.” Dorian (Zach Braff) and his assorted Whitman’s Sampler of medical zanies now?

Scrubs managed to fire off a few episodes at the start of the 2007 season featuring the birth of J.D.’s son, Sam, but that was just the beginning (signaling his troubled transition into adulthood), with no middle nor end in sight. Dr. Bob Kelso (Ken Jenkins) was last seen sulking in his office after he was notified that he would be soon sent packing as Sacred Heart’s salty Chief of Medicine because of his advanced age. After Elliot (Sarah Chalke) cuddled up with J.D. in last year‘s season finale, she no sooner dumped her boy toy, Keith (Travis Schuldt), at the altar to further intensify the comedy chaos in the waiting room. Hot damn, even “The Janitor” (Neil Flynn) was starting to score with a “Lady” of his own — before the strike pulled the proverbial plug on the best comedy of the 21st century.

Sure, The Office is often funny, even hilarious and brilliant at times, but, despite its sterling cast, it can also feel as stifling as a corporate cubical on certain occasions. 30 Rock basically revolves around the beautifully awkward tension exhibited between Alec Baldwin and Tina Fey with ambitious writing that is too convoluted for the casual viewer. (Don’t believe that theory? Well, rest in peace, Arrested Development.)