[Funeral Home. Night. In a darkened room, twenty-four-year-old Ukranian-American Irene Walesa talks to someone as she cuts someone's hair. She has a Russian accent. Camera stays on her and on the person's head.]

IRENE WALESA: [cheerfully] There were some nice guys there, but they're all so quiet. Awkward smiles and sweaty palms. I'm not expecting Brad Pitt to walk into St. Theresa's. Just... someone who makes me laugh. Has a nice smile.

[She tousles the person's hair.]

IRENE WALESA: Full head of hair. You know, someone like you, Mr. Franklin.

[Camera focuses on them. Mr. Franklin is a corpse (with a great haircut) on the table. She looks at her work.]

IRENE WALESA: [sadly] Shame they're going to cremate you.

[She looks at the other body in the room, which she's not yet gone to work on. She collects her equipment and walks over to the pantry, which has a big mirror in front of it. She pours herself a cup of coffee.]

[MYSTERY PERSON POV: Someone moves towards her.]

[She finishes pouring and looks up. She gets a start, seeing a menacing looking man in the mirror, standing behind her. She drops her cup, which smashes on the floor. Almost petrified with fear, she turns around to face him.]

IRENE WALESA: [struggling to stay calm] Can I help you?

[The man's wearing an open jacket, exposing his vest. A lady's face is tattooed on in neck.]

IRENE WALESA: [calling out] Martin!

[sh*t of Mr. Franklin's body on the table. The man advances thr*at and looks at her lasciviously. Whimpering, she steps back.]

IRENE WALESA: Martin!

[She grabs a pair of surgical scissors to defend herself.]

IRENE WALESA: [to the man] My purse is right there. Go ahead. Take whatever you want.

[The man has no interest in the purse. In one swift motion, he grabs her by the back of her neck and yanks away the scissors, as she cries out in terror. His arm around her throat, he starts to snip of her shirt buttons with the scissors. Panicked, she elbows him low and gets free of his clutches, only to run into... Mr. Franklin - who seems very much alive and very sinister-looking. She whirls around to see the first attacker and gets an even bigger shock to see a gaping hole in the back of his head, in the mirror. She turns around, terrified, to Mr. Franklin, who only glowers at her. She looks and sees his table empty, with the sheet on the floor. She cries out. She turns again, and the first attacker grabs her throat and starts to throttle her. He forces her to the floor and continues to press his hand against her throat, as she weakly tries to scream. Her vision gets blurry...]

[We see that Mr. Franklin is still on the table, quite d*ad. Her colleague, Martin, enters.]

MARTIN: Irene? You call me?

[He looks at both bodies on their tables, but still doesn't see Irene.]

MARTIN: Irene?

[He looks over to the pantry and sees Irene, writhing on the floor, having a seizure.]

MARTIN: Irene!

[He runs over to her. Her seizure continues, as we...]

[Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital Auditorium. Day. Six of the five surviving fellows are assembled inside. Dr. Jeffrey Cole and Dr. Travis Brennan stand at a table, playing a game with coins. Dr. Lawrence Kutner sits on a chair, playing with a couple of rubberbands. Dr. Chris Taub reads the paper. Dr. Amber Volakis and Dr... "Thirteen" sit idly at their seats. Amber turns around to speak to "Thirteen".]

AMBER VOLAKIS: [feigning concern, softly] How're you doing?

"THIRTEEN": I'm fine.

AMBER VOLAKIS: [whispering] FYI, if you ask me, it's more the guys' fault than yours. And House isn't blameless either. If he hadn't pitted us all against each other...

"THIRTEEN": [interjecting] It was my fault. My mistake.

[Amber looks at her and turns in front. The phone starts to ring. The fellows look at it.]

CHRIS TAUB: [pointing at the phone] Was that always there?

[Brennan shrugs and answers it.]

TRAVIS BRENNAN: [into phone] Hello. [listens] Sure.

[He puts on the speakerphone.]

TRAVIS BRENNAN: [whispering to the rest] It's House.

GREG HOUSE: [from phone] Gooood morning, Angels.

["Thirteen" smiles.]

GREG HOUSE: [from phone] As you will see from the file, we have quite the interesting case. Not often do you get a patient who sees d*ad people.

[The fellows exchange confused glances.]

LAWRENCE KUTNER: Uhh, what file?

[House's Office. Day. Dr. Gregory House sits at his desk, tossing his little red fuzzball in the air and catching it. He stops his game, on hearing about the missing file.]

GREG HOUSE: What the hell? I gave it to Bosley a half hour ago.

[Dr. Allison Cameron enters, carrying a cold coffee, in a clear plastic cup.]

ALLISON CAMERON: It was not a half hour. It was ten minutes. And he made copies of the ER records first.

[She holds the coffee out to him.]

GREG HOUSE: Less lip, more whip. I only agreed to take this case because you said that this Mocha Frappalicious would have whip on it.

[She withdraws her hand.]

ALLISON CAMERON: Fine. I'll refer the case to Foreman.

[She goes to put the straw into her mouth.]

GREG HOUSE: [shakes his head] Can't. Mercy fired him.

[Cameron arches forward in surprise. House motions for the cup]

GREG HOUSE: Gimme.

ALLISON CAMERON: He got fired?

GREG HOUSE: Disobeyed a superior officer under f*re. He's lucky he wasn't ex*cuted.

[He takes the Mocha Frappalicious from her.]

ALLISON CAMERON: How do you know about it? You keeping tabs on him?

GREG HOUSE: Girls talk.

[He calls the Auditorium phone to speak to the fellows. He keeps it on speakerphone.]

GREG HOUSE: When Bosley drags his ancient ass in there...

[In the Auditorium, "Dr." Henry Dobson enters, carrying a file.]

HENRY DOBSON: I'm here. Twenty-four-year-old funeral cosmetician suffered a grand mal seizure at work.

[He starts to hand out the copies to the others.]

CHRIS TAUB: [whispers to Kutner] Why does he get to be Bosley?

LAWRENCE KUTNER: [whispers to Taub] You wanna be Bosley? Bosley's like the asexual messenger boy.

HENRY DOBSON: She had a vision of being r*ped by a cadaver before passing out. Seizure rules out psychiatric illness. No history of epilepsy, head trauma, or drug use.

CHRIS TAUB: [whispers to Kutner] Bosley keeps his job while they replace five Angels over three seasons.

AMBER VOLAKIS: Could be a tumor to the temporal lobe.

CHRIS TAUB: Not with a normal CT scan.

AMBER VOLAKIS: You mean it appeared normal to the doc in the ER.

GREG HOUSE: Way to get right back on that horse, "Thirteen".

"THIRTEEN": No, that was Amber.

GREG HOUSE: [from phone] Nice try, Cutthroat Bitch. That was the worst "Thirteen" imitation I've ever heard.

["Thirteen" smiles, while Amber frowns.]

CHRIS TAUB: Funeral home prep rooms are filled with toxic chemicals.

TRAVIS BRENNAN: And cadavers. Everybody in that place obviously died from something.

CHRIS TAUB: [suddenly] I have a question. Is he the one who's not a doctor?

[He points to Dobson (as if House could see who he's pointing to).]

HENRY DOBSON: [ignores him] b*ll*ts aren't contagious. But infections, parasites...

CHRIS TAUB: [interrupts] You said one of us wasn't a doctor, and you called him a fraud.

GREG HOUSE: [from phone] He's not a doctor. Continue, Boz.

[Taub rolls his head.]

HENRY DOBSON: Could be an STD...

CHRIS TAUB: [interrupts again] Why isn't he fired?

[House starts to punch the buttons on the phone.]

GREG HOUSE: [raspy voice] Oh, you're breaking up. I'm going into a tunnel.

[The sounds of telephone buttons being pressed is heard in the Auditorium.]

GREG HOUSE: Dark religious nut.

[Cameron looks at House in disapproval, though not really surprised at the jibe.]

[In the Auditorium, Cole obviously doesn't appreciate the jibe.]

JEFFREY COLE: What did you call me?

GREG HOUSE: [from phone] I'm sorry. What do you people want to be called this week?

JEFFREY COLE: Cole.

GREG HOUSE: [furrows his brow] I'm never gonna remember that. Take Bosley and the other visible minority to the funeral home.

[Kutner reacts to the "other visible minority" phrase.]

GREG HOUSE: The rest of you young white people, the world is your oyster. Get an MRI with contrast, EEG, LP, and blood panel. And, Angels, be careful.

[He hangs up.]

[The "Angels" get to work.]

[In House's office, Cameron chides House.]

ALLISON CAMERON: Just because he's religious doesn't mean he won't kick your ass.

GREG HOUSE: You wanna bet?

ALLISON CAMERON: No, I want you to stop being such a jerk to him.

[House pulls out a Benjamin, which was hidden in his desk, and flaps its ends outwards in front of Cameron.]

GREG HOUSE: [teasingly] One hundred dollars.

[Cameron smiles at him, accepting the bet.]

GREG HOUSE: Smart call. [pockets the money] Guy's a wuss. He's gonna be the next one on the train.

ALLISON CAMERON: Define "kick your ass."

GREG HOUSE: Any physical confrontation...

ALLISON CAMERON: Or verbal?

GREG HOUSE: Define verbal.

ALLISON CAMERON: Anything over...seventy decibels. And you can't start suddenly being nice to him.

GREG HOUSE: You realize what you're encouraging here.

ALLISON CAMERON: [grinning ear-to-ear] Yeah, someone kickin' your ass.

[She leaves.]

[Aerial View of PPTH. Evening.]

[MRI Room. Day. Irene lies on the MRI table. Taub and Amber help strap her in. Her mother, Connie (old woman in her sixties), stands near Taub, comforting her.]

IRENE WALESA: [looking inside the MRI] The space inside is smaller than I thought.

CONNIE WALESA: Don't worry, Reena. The doctors are going to take good care of you, right?

CHRIS TAUB: Once the valium kicks in, you'll feel better.

CONNIE WALESA: And then we'll have some nice, warm milk when you're done.

IRENE WALESA: I'd rather have more valium.

CONNIE WALESA: [amused] Reena.

CHRIS TAUB: Let's wait just a bit, see how it goes.

AMBER VOLAKIS: Try to lie as still as possible.

[Amber presses a button on the MRI. As Irene is slowly moved inside the MRI, Taub and Amber walk towards the adjoining room. Connie moves aside.]

CHRIS TAUB: [complaining] I guess Father Time's a lock for one of the spots.

AMBER VOLAKIS: "Thirteen"'s a lock.

CHRIS TAUB: He doesn't have a medical license and he's still around.

AMBER VOLAKIS: She k*lled a guy in a wheelchair. And his dog.

[They enter the adjoining room and sit in front of the monitors.]

CHRIS TAUB: He doesn't care about our qualifications or ideas. He just wants to have fun.

AMBER VOLAKIS: And she's the ultimate fun 'cause he can't figure her out.

CHRIS TAUB: This game is insane.

AMBER VOLAKIS: So quit. Happy to lose the competition.

CHRIS TAUB: [sighs] If it's gonna be on your résumé, it's gotta be better to quit than get fired.

AMBER VOLAKIS: Either quit or shut up.

[He looks at her.]

CHRIS TAUB: Actually, with House, getting fired might look better.

[Dr. Pilcher's Office. Day. Dr. Eric Foreman sits opposite Dr. Pilcher, who interviews him for a job.]

DR. PILCHER: [going through Foreman's résumé] Dr. House is a dangerous egomaniac.

ERIC FOREMAN: [smiles in agreement] That's why I left. We had different ideas on how to practise.

DR. PILCHER: Glad to hear it. Tell me about Mercy.

ERIC FOREMAN: To be honest, I don't think Dr. Schaffer really gave me a chance.

DR. PILCHER: Obviously not. You were there for three weeks. What happened?

ERIC FOREMAN: [sighs uneasily] Saved a patient's life.

DR. PILCHER: That's usually not grounds for dismissal.

ERIC FOREMAN: [unsure] Have you spoken to her?

DR. PILCHER: Yes.

ERIC FOREMAN: Then why are you asking me what happened?

DR. PILCHER: You have an excellent résumé. I felt I owed it to you to hear what you had to say.

ERIC FOREMAN: [quietly] What'd she tell you?

DR. PILCHER: That you defied her instructions and hospital procedures.

ERIC FOREMAN: That's what happened. Nothing more I can add to that.

DR. PILCHER: You could tell me that you were wrong.

[Foreman stays silent.]

DR. PILCHER: [putting Foreman's résumé aside] Sounds like you didn't leave House quite soon enough.

[Foreman sits quietly, knowing he's just been rejected.]

[Aerial View of PPTH. Evening.]

[House's Office. Evening. House stands, looking outside the window, while Jeffrey Cole speaks over the speakerphone.]

JEFFREY COLE: [over phone] Cadavers were clean. So is her food. It's all organic unprocessed crap. It's gotta be the embalming fluid.

[Hospital Auditorium. Evening. Cole sits on the same table as the phone, giving his report to House. The other fellows sit in their seats.]

JEFFREY COLE: Ethanol can have psychoactive effects...

GREG HOUSE: [from phone, loudly] Bosley! Tell whoever's talking he's an idiot.

[Dobson stands as House calls his nickname. Cole just sits miffed. Dobson just hovers above his seat, unsure how to proceed.]

[House, not hearing someone being called an idiot, turns to the phone.]

GREG HOUSE: Bosley. Either tell him he's an idiot, or tell me why I'm wrong.

HENRY DOBSON: [apologetically, to Cole] You're an idiot.

[He sits.]

GREG HOUSE: [from phone] You actually think that I'd take a patient who had a seizure in a funeral home if the ER hadn't already ruled out embalming fluid?

JEFFREY COLE: I thought we weren't supposed to trust...

GREG HOUSE: [from phone, snaps] Idiot! From the old french, [constipated French accent] "idiote", meaning effeminate, ment*lly deficient moor.

HENRY DOBSON: I found something in the mortuary's files from '05. A forty-eight-year-old male's cause of death was listed as pneumonia, but the symptoms in the autopsy report didn't fit. Uh, confusion, memory loss, depression.

GREG HOUSE: Mad cow. Very cool.

JEFFREY COLE: No, she's a vegetarian and only ate organic vegetables at that.

GREG HOUSE: Tell him he's an idiot again.

[Cole purses his lips.]

HENRY DOBSON: [to Cole] The disease can be spread by brain tissue.

GREG HOUSE: Which is very cool. Run with it.

TRAVIS BRENNAN: [amused] So because the answer might be "cool", you want us to do a brain biopsy on a twenty-four-year-old woman?

GREG HOUSE: No, because the answer is something cool, I want you to do a brain biopsy on a forty-eight-year-old d*ad guy.

[Astonished looks from the fellows.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: [wide-eyed] The guy's already been buried.

LAWRENCE KUTNER: [excited] We dig him up.

[Amber looks at him, non-plussed.]

CHRIS TAUB: I am not digging up a body without a court order.

GREG HOUSE: Don't think of it as digging up a body. Think of it as keeping another one from being buried.

[A silent b*at, while the fellows consider it.]

JEFFREY COLE: I can't do it.

[House picks up the whole phone and speaks directly into the mouthpiece.]

GREG HOUSE: We gonna have another one of those ecumenical discussions where I tell you that your beliefs are ridiculous and you totally cave?

JEFFREY COLE: I just gotta be home at six.

GREG HOUSE: The Sabbath. The Lord works for six days, then tells the Union he needs a rest. You know, if I was all-powerful, I'd take at least two days.

"THIRTEEN": It's Thursday.

GREG HOUSE: Well, then it must be the kid.

[Cole rolls his head. The other fellows look at him, intrigued.]

GREG HOUSE: You have oatmeal on your pants.

[Cole looks at his pants and looks around. Kutner looks up.]

LAWRENCE KUTNER: Do you have a camera in here?

GREG HOUSE: No. I was guessing. He had oatmeal on his pants yesterday and the day before. Have one of your wives look after the spawn.

JEFFREY COLE: I'm a single dad.

[This is obviously news to his colleagues.]

CHRIS TAUB: Where's the single mom?

JEFFREY COLE: I have no idea.

[He gets off the table and walks out.]

GREG HOUSE: Interesting. You claim a lapse of judgment, or you gonna admit that a lapse in judgment is a lapse in faith?

TRAVIS BRENNAN: He's gone.

GREG HOUSE: Fair enough. Family comes first.

[He hangs up.]

[Hospital Lobby. Day. Dr. Lisa Cuddy stands at a Nurse's station, signing some papers. Amber walks up from the Clinic.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: Dr. Cuddy, I'm Amber Volakis, one of Dr. House's new fellows.

[Cuddy looks at her and recites a speech, she no doubt prepared specially for these fellows.]

LISA CUDDY: Sexual harassment claims go through HR. Stress-related leaves through worker's comp, and any accusations of criminal activities go directly to the Princeton Plainsboro Police Department.

[She starts to walk off.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: Actually, I was wondering if you needed any extra help in the clinic tonight.

LISA CUDDY: [laughing] You're not going to score any points with House by kissing my ass.

[She starts to walk again.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: Understood. But I hear Dr. House hates clinic duty. If he were to hear through the grapevine that I was willing to work overtime, take some of it off his hands...

LISA CUDDY: My advice to you is to do whatever House wants you to do tonight. And then tomorrow night, you can come back and I will give you extra clinic duty.

[She turns around, trying to escape, but turns in frustration as Amber speaks again.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: Does everybody around here have trust issues?

LISA CUDDY: I don't know what House wants you to do, and I don't want to know. But if you really have a problem with it, quit now. It's only gonna get worse.

[Cuddy leaves. Thwarted, Amber leaves.]

[Cemetery. Night. The fellows (minus Amber) are in the middle of a very literal "graveyard shift" as part of the weekly House-ordered B&E. They've dug up almost all the dirt. Kutner (with pickaxe) and Brennan (with shovel) are currently digging, while the others shine their flashlights on them.]

TRAVIS BRENNAN: All right, who's up?

CHRIS TAUB: Not me.

["Thirteen" (her face dirty from having dug previously) looks at him angrily.]

"THIRTEEN": You haven't done any digging yet.

CHRIS TAUB: I'm a surgeon.If anything happens to these hands, I'm screwed. Let Bosley do it. As long as he can keep folding laundry, his career won't...

HENRY DOBSON: [urgently] Shh, shh, shh. Someone's coming.

[A moment of suspense as the fellows stop what they're doing and look around in fear.]

CHRIS TAUB: [whispering] Shouldn't we be running?

LAWRENCE KUTNER: [whispering] If it's a cop, run. Security guard, I say we take him down.

[A shadowy figure walks purposefully towards them. The suspense evaporates when they see it's only Amber, carrying a pink box and to-go coffees.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: [smiling] Sorry I'm late.

CHRIS TAUB: Where the hell have you been?

AMBER VOLAKIS: Oh, I got lost.

LAWRENCE KUTNER: [resuming digging] Been here over three hours.

AMBER VOLAKIS: Really lost. I brought coffee and donuts.

[Taub grabs a donut, while "Thirteen" goes for a coffee.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: So "Thirteen", you grow up around here?

["Thirteen" frowns in mid-sip.]

"THIRTEEN": We're digging up a grave, and you want to chit-chat?

AMBER VOLAKIS: I'm just making conversation. It's what people do. Why are you hiding everything? And I'm asking you that question because you're hiding everything. There's something seriously wrong with you. I'm worried.

"THIRTEEN": [smiles] No, you're not.

AMBER VOLAKIS: Fine, but I am freaked, because I don't think you're a freak. I think you're doing this on purpose because you know House will be intrigued.

["Thirteen" stays quiet for a second and then nods.]

"THIRTEEN": Yeah, I grew up around here.

[She moves away to escape further interrogation. Lightning briefly illuminates the cemetery, accompanied by thunder. A loud CLANK is heard inside the open grave.]

LAWRENCE KUTNER: [looks up, dramatically] Honey, I'm home.

[He shifts some dirt around to expose the coffin.]

TRAVIS BRENNAN: Get the crowbar.

LAWRENCE KUTNER: No, there's not enough room to maneuver a crowbar down here.

[He brings his pickaxe down hard on the coffin. The others react in pious shock.]

TRAVIS BRENNAN: Oh, God help us.

[Kutner manages to break a hole in the coffin. Amber covers her nose and leans forward to peer inside. Kutner looks through the small hole he made and frowns.]

LAWRENCE KUTNER: What the hell?

AMBER VOLAKIS: [nervous] What is it?

LAWRENCE KUTNER: [testily] Ankles. They buried the guy the wrong way around.

[He breaks open another hole on the other side of the coffin.]

[Aerial View of PPTH. Day.]

[Hospital Cafeteria. Day. House eats a hearty breakfast of bacon and scrambled eggs. Cuddy walks up to him.]

LISA CUDDY: The doctor's lounge is covered in mud.

GREG HOUSE: Thirteen and Cutthroat Bitch had a disagreement, and the cafeteria was out of jell-o.

[He gives her a "what-else-could-we-do?" look.]

LISA CUDDY: There were pickaxes. Either you had them dig up a body, or you're building a railroad.

GREG HOUSE: A little tiny piece of his brain. Seemed a waste. He wasn't using it anymore.

LISA CUDDY: That's your defense? "We just dismembered him"?

GREG HOUSE: They're looking for Creutzfeldt-Jakob.

[Cuddy loses all interest in the doctor's lounge mess, now that Mad Cow has entered the picture. She sits in front of House.]

LISA CUDDY: [really intrigued] You get the results yet?

GREG HOUSE: Does my breath smell bated to you?

LISA CUDDY: Yes. Let me know when you hear anything. [stands] And get that mess in the shower area cleaned up.

GREG HOUSE: I know just the guy.

LISA CUDDY: How many of them agreed to dig up a grave?

GREG HOUSE: Six.

[Cuddy rolls her head.]

GREG HOUSE: But don't worry, the one who didn't didn't stand on principle. He just had a diaper to change. I really think there are no bad choices in this group.

[He resumes eating. Cuddy thinks better than to argue or admonish and walks off.]

[Hospital Laboratory. Day. The fellows run tests. House enters carrying a mop.]

GREG HOUSE: You guys don't wipe your feet when you come in the house?

[He thumps the mop handle on the floor, right in front of Taub.]

GREG HOUSE: Doctor's lounge. Let's go.

CHRIS TAUB: Why me?

GREG HOUSE: Well, I can't ask the black guy or one of the chicks to do it. That would be insensitive.

CHRIS TAUB: And you can't ask Bosley because that'd look like you only hired the non-doctor to do non-doctor stuff.

GREG HOUSE: You keep stalling, you're still gonna clean up, but I won't let you have the mop.

[Taub concedes and takes the mop. He starts to walk out, but stops as Brennan speaks.]

TRAVIS BRENNAN: Sample came back negative for Creutzfeldt-Jakob.

[The others look disappointed.]

GREG HOUSE: Well, that discussion didn't last long.

TRAVIS BRENNAN: I just don't know what else there is. We had an idea. It was wrong.

GREG HOUSE: Well, we can go home. I mean, we have no idea what's wrong with her. Which means it could be completely benign. Or, on the off chance that it's _k*lling_ her, we could take it again from the top.

[He limps outside.]

[Irene's Room. Day. Irene lies in her bed, while Cole, Amber and "Thirteen" attend to her. Connie sits across the room on a chair.]

IRENE WALESA: You've already done everything.

JEFFREY COLE: We may have missed something.

IRENE WALESA: I just want to go home. I'm sure I'm fine now.

CONNIE WALESA: Reena, the doctors know best.

"THIRTEEN": You had some serious symptoms. The seizures...

IRENE WALESA: If I have another one, I'll come right back, okay?

CONNIE WALESA: If you have it while you're driving...

IRENE WALESA: You can drive me. Make sure I take it easy.

[Cole and "Thirteen" exchange confused glances.]

"THIRTEEN": Who can?

IRENE WALESA: [looking towards Connie] My mother.

JEFFREY COLE: Your mother's here?

IRENE WALESA: What are you talking about? She's right there.

[She points to where Connie sits. The fellows look at the seat and see... no one! They look at each other in surprise.]

[Hospital Auditorium. Day. The fellow are seated around the speakerphone, listening to House berating them.]

GREG HOUSE: [from phone] You sampled every bodily fluid, peeked in her brain, violated a cadaver's privacy, dug up a body...

[House enters through the back entrance of the auditorium, speaking to them on his cell phone. They turn on seeing him.]

GREG HOUSE: ... but missed the fact she was still seeing things that weren't there.

[He hangs up and limps towards them.]

Neurological symptoms are getting worse.

GREG HOUSE: Be nice if one of you Angels-slash-morons had a clue why.

CHRIS TAUB: We did a full history. She never mentioned seeing or hearing anything unusual.

GREG HOUSE: [sarcastic] Oh, well, as long as she never said anything. How were you to know? Same thing with the spinal fluid? She tell you that was fine?

TRAVIS BRENNAN: [checking a file] The labs were all clear.

GREG HOUSE: Then either we're about to meet the Alpha and Omega, or you missed something.

HENRY DOBSON: [after a b*at] We missed the new symptom.

LAWRENCE KUTNER: It's not a new symptom. We always knew she had hallucinations.

HENRY DOBSON: Seeing her d*ad mother's a hallucination. Not knowing she's d*ad is a delusion.

GREG HOUSE: [impressed] You keep this up, you're gonna have to start wearing sexier clothes.

CHRIS TAUB: Uh, carbon monoxide could also cause delusions. A lot of haunted houses report...

HENRY DOBSON: There's no headache. No tachycardia. [to Taub] I guess they didn't cover that at your medical school.

[Taub gives him a petty smile.]

"THIRTEEN": What about a hereditary connection? She's twenty-four. Her mother died when she was twenty-five.

LAWRENCE KUTNER: In Ukraine, twenty years ago. Good luck trying to get those records.

GREG HOUSE: We start new records. Test for every hereditary disease that fits the symptoms.

CHRIS TAUB: There are at least forty different mitochondrial disorders, another couple hundred...

GREG HOUSE: Start with amyloidosis, keep going until you reach... zamyloidosis.

[They get up and prepare to go.]

[Irene's Room. Day. "Thirteen" and Amber run tests on Irene.]

IRENE WALESA: Now what are you testing for? Or should I ask what you're not testing for?

AMBER VOLAKIS: Well, we could narrow it down if you could remember what your mother died from.

IRENE WALESA: [snapping] My mother is not d*ad. She's sitting right there. [points to the seat, where Connie sits (or so she thinks)]

AMBER VOLAKIS: Do you think we're lying to you?

"THIRTEEN": [softly] Leave it alone.

[Amber looks at "Thirteen" and walks over to her.]

"THIRTEEN": Convincing her that her mother's d*ad isn't gonna make her better, just miserable.

AMBER VOLAKIS: You lose your mother?

["Thirteen" looks at her in surprise and looks down again, evasively.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: Do you think we're trying to trick you? Why would we do that?

IRENE WALESA: Because you're mean. And you're not good at your job.

CONNIE WALESA: Reena, stop. You're being cruel.

IRENE WALESA: They're wasting time. Doing exactly what the guy in the wheelchair said they'd do.

["Thirteen" looks shocked. Amber looks at Irene.]

"THIRTEEN": [coming forward] A guy in a wheelchair was here?

IRENE WALESA: You know who I'm talking about. He's been hanging around ever since they brought me in. Complaining about how incompetent everyone is. Said you k*lled his dog.

["Thirteen", still shaken, goes back to where she was and resumes testing. Irene seems to smile at Amber.]

[Restaurant. Day. Cuddy and Foreman have lunch, the former offering the latter his job back.]

LISA CUDDY: It doesn't make any sense.

ERIC FOREMAN: I'm not interested.

LISA CUDDY: If you weren't interested, you wouldn't be here.

ERIC FOREMAN: I thought it was social.

LISA CUDDY: No, you didn't. You always think there's an agenda.

ERIC FOREMAN: That's why I left.

LISA CUDDY: That's why you're good. You need a job.

ERIC FOREMAN: I'll find a job.

LISA CUDDY: And I need someone that understands House.

ERIC FOREMAN: They'll learn.

LISA CUDDY: I need someone that can control House.

ERIC FOREMAN: [snorts] Heh! Keep looking. Might take a while.

[He stands and puts on his coat.]

LISA CUDDY: I'll cut the salary of everyone else on the team fifteen percent, give it to you. That's more than you'll get anywhere else.

[Foreman sits, a bit interested.]

ERIC FOREMAN: What does House say about this?

LISA CUDDY: You're the one person on the team that he always respected.

ERIC FOREMAN: [chuckles] This restaurant is twenty minutes out of your way. Half an hour out of mine. You picked it to make sure House didn't drop in on us.

LISA CUDDY: It's my decision, not his.

ERIC FOREMAN: And you tell him that, then run back to your office while I get to deal with him. I left for a reason. That reason hasn't changed.

[He stands and leaves. Cuddy watches him go, looking pensive.]

[House's Office. Day. House plays "Surgeon" at his desk, slowly lifting up the "patient"'s left lung with the plastic surgical scissors. He drops it and puts on a "whoops" look. Slowly, he moves the left lung to the side. His fellows stand in front of his desk.]

GREG HOUSE: So... what's the news?

TRAVIS BRENNAN: Everything's negative so far.

GREG HOUSE: Yes. Why wait to finish before reporting to me? I have things to do, you know.

AMBER VOLAKIS: She's seeing someone else.

GREG HOUSE: That's not news. That's "olds".

[Unable to pick up the guy's plastic liver, he curses.]

GREG HOUSE: Dammit. Why did God design the human body this way?

AMBER VOLAKIS: A guy in a wheelchair.

GREG HOUSE: In a hospital. It's enough to give you the heebie-jeebies.

AMBER VOLAKIS: He had a dog. She's seeing Stark. Our last patient.

[House puts the plastic scissors aside and leans back in his chair.]

GREG HOUSE: Well, if it's Stark, he wouldn't be haunting a patient, he'd be haunting the doctor who k*lled him.

"THIRTEEN": She probably just overheard someone talking about it or...

GREG HOUSE: [interjects loudly] Probably? You think there's a possibility that the alternative is true?

"THIRTEEN": No.

GREG HOUSE: Then go away.

TRAVIS BRENNAN: We're wasting time. We ran thirty two gels. We could run a hundred more. Without knowing how her mother died...

GREG HOUSE: You're gonna have to run a hundred more. And by you, of course, I'm only referring to the people who care enough about human life to put in a full day. [to Cole] You wanna carpool?

JEFFREY COLE: H-how do you expect me to respond to this stuff?

GREG HOUSE: Exactly like you just did. I have a theory. Maybe you can help me out. Black Mormon means masochist. Means kinky.

[He comes close to Cole. Kutner accommodatingly makes way for House, smiling.]

GREG HOUSE: I'm thinking that someone got hurt making the bastard. Am I right?

JEFFREY COLE: You leave my son out of this.

GREG HOUSE: I wasn't referring to your kid's hypocrisy. I was referring to yours.

[Cole seems about ready to react, but Dobson jumps in.]

HENRY DOBSON: Why don't we just ask her how she died, hmm?

AMBER VOLAKIS: Because she won't tell us. She thinks her mother's still alive.

HENRY DOBSON: I don't mean ask the patient, I mean ask her mother.

GREG HOUSE: [thinks about it a second, likes it] Cool.

[He walks past a bewildered Taub. He calls for "Thirteen" to follow.]

GREG HOUSE: [to "Thirteen"] Come on.

[With a confused look to the others, she follows him out.]

CHRIS TAUB: [to Dobson] What the hell does that mean? You guys talking your own language now?

HENRY DOBSON: I'm sorry. I'll try to include some visual aids next time.

[He leaves.]

[Irene's Room. Day. House and "Thirteen" enter.]

IRENE WALESA: Now what?

[House and "Thirteen" stand in front of her bed.]

GREG HOUSE: I'm Dr. House. 'S your mom around?

IRENE WALESA: Why should I tell you? You're just going to tell me I'm lying or crazy.

[Connie sits on the armrest of a sofa nearby.]

GREG HOUSE: Not gonna do that. I really need to know what she has to say.

IRENE WALESA: What do you want?

GREG HOUSE: When you were young, was she...?

IRENE WALESA: No, not you. Him. [points to someone behind him]

[House and "Thirteen" look at her in surprise.]

"THIRTEEN": [warily] The man in the wheelchair?

IRENE WALESA: No. He's old.

[House moves away and we see an older sour-faced gentleman in a suit standing there.]

IRENE WALESA: Actually, looks like you.

["Thirteen" almost looks scared. Connie smiles at the gentleman. House walks towards the man and turns.]

GREG HOUSE: Yeah, that's Grandpa House. Tell him to call back on a land line. Terrible reception in here. How much pain was your mom in?

OLD GENTLEMAN: It's Walter.

IRENE WALESA: He says his name is Walter.

[House's face shows a mixture of shock and disbelief. "Thirteen" looks at him. House walks out.]

[Wilson's Office. Day. House enters the room. Dr. James Wilson looks up and sees his friend walk over to the couch and lie down comfortably.]

JAMES WILSON: [unsure what House wants this time] Can I... help you?

GREG HOUSE: My patient's talking to my Grandpa Walt.

JAMES WILSON: You have a Grandpa Walt?

GREG HOUSE: Nope. Which is what made me suspect that maybe she's not actually seeing into the afterlife.

JAMES WILSON: What is this sudden obsession with the afterlife?

GREG HOUSE: Only obsession is with the idiots in the right-here-and-now life who think there's an afterlife. [he pulls out his Vicodin bottle]

JAMES WILSON: And you want me to...?

GREG HOUSE: Nothing. Just need a place to hang low for awhile. I'm pretending to be spooked.

[He throws up a Vicodin pill and catches it in his mouth.]

JAMES WILSON: Because...?

GREG HOUSE: Because if my soon-to-be-brain-d*ad patient thinks that I believe her, maybe she'll let me chat with her mother's ghost.

JAMES WILSON: The one you don't believe exists.

GREG HOUSE: Exactly. The ghost is a hallucination, which is the result of a delusion which most likely is the result of a hereditary disease that her mother died from when the patient was four.

JAMES WILSON: And you think you can tap into her subconscious memory by tapping into her hallucination.

GREG HOUSE: Hmm-mm. She might not know what caused her mother's death, but she will know how she acted before she died.

JAMES WILSON: You're quite impressed with yourself right now, aren't you?

GREG HOUSE: [snorts] Who wouldn't be? [checks his watch] Well, that should be long enough. Back in a flash.

JAMES WILSON: Take your time.

[House limps outside.]

[Irene's Room. Day. House enters. Irene stirs awake.]

GREG HOUSE: [acting like a believer] Is my grandfather still here?

IRENE WALESA: No.

[Her mother, sitting beside her on the bed, speaks.]

CONNIE WALESA: He should be right back.

IRENE WALESA: He just went to get some warm milk.

GREG HOUSE: But your mom's still here, right?

[Irene and Connie smile at each other.]

IRENE WALESA: Yes, of course.

GREG HOUSE: I know she's fine now, but when you were four or five, she got sick.

IRENE WALESA: [confused] No.

GREG HOUSE: You sure? She wasn't in any pain?

CONNIE WALESA: I wasn't in pain.

IRENE WALESA: She was just tired. And sometimes she would stay in bed all day.

GREG HOUSE: Did she ever fall down?

CONNIE WALESA: Of course. Everyone falls down once in awhile.

IRENE WALESA: Sometimes. Not that often.

GREG HOUSE: How often?

CONNIE WALESA: [remembering] Maybe it was actually more than once in awhile. [gasps in recollection] Remember that time in the bathroom?

IRENE WALESA: Hmm. [to House] A few times. Once she h*t her head on the bathroom sink. There was blood all over the floor. I got it on my sweater. And...

[She frowns as she recollects. She looks at Connie.]

IRENE WALESA: They took her away.

GREG HOUSE: Yeah, to the place where the doctor made her better. But before that, what about her arms and legs? Did she ever walk funny? Like sort of bent over?

CONNIE WALESA: [laughs] I thought that was from growing up on the farm.

GREG HOUSE: What about her hands? She ever have any difficulty sewing, buttoning a shirt?

CONNIE WALESA: No. [gasps] But sometimes, my hands would, um, shiver. Like I was cold. But I wasn't. I never quite understood.

IRENE WALESA: She used to get the shivers like she was cold.

[House understands and leaves the room. Irene looks at the space where only she sees her mother.]

[Hospital Auditorium. Day. The fellows sit idly. House enters from the back entrance. They turn to him as he speaks.]

GREG HOUSE: Start her on l-dopa and bromocriptine. [bored] It's just Parkinson's.

[He limps off. The fellows exchange looks and then scramble to leave.]

CUT TO:

[Aerial view of PPTH. Night.]

CUT TO:

[Hospital Hallways. Day. Cole is ready to leave for the day. Cameron comes running up to him.]

ALLISON CAMERON: Cole. How's it going with your patient?

[They start walking along the hallway.]

JEFFREY COLE: Still seeing stuff.

ALLISON CAMERON: I hear House is treating you like crap.

JEFFREY COLE: [light chuckle] He treats everyone badly.

ALLISON CAMERON: [smiles] Yeah, but I heard you're special.

JEFFREY COLE: Oh, I can handle it.

[They reach the elevator and Cameron hits the button for Cole.]

ALLISON CAMERON: Maybe you shouldn't. He's gonna walk all over you if you let him.

JEFFREY COLE: That says nothing about me, just him.

ALLISON CAMERON: [exhorting] House respects people who aren't afraid of him. Get in his face. Yell if you have to.

JEFFREY COLE: I don't need his respect.

[Cameron looks bewildered, as Cole enters the elevator.]

ALLISON CAMERON: You do if you want the job.

[Cole seems to consider it, but...]

JEFFREY COLE: Thanks for the advice.

[The elevator door closes and Cameron looks defeated.]

CUT TO:

[Irene's Room. Day. Irene struggles in pain as Kutner roughly tries to inject something into her left arm. "Thirteen" goes to help him out, pushing Irene down.]

LAWRENCE KUTNER: [pissed] You have to hold still!

IRENE WALESA: [crying] I'm trying!

LAWRENCE KUTNER: [irritated] Damn! Hold her down!

[As he tries to inject her again, she screams and writhes.]

IRENE WALESA: No! Stop it!

"THIRTEEN": [has enough, shouts] Let me do it!

[The two fellows quickly exchange places. Terrified, Irene tries to escape from the bed.]

IRENE WALESA: No... no!

[Kutner holds her down.]

"THIRTEEN": [yells] Hold her down!

[Kutner straddles her and pins her down.]

IRENE WALESA: [pleading] No! No! No!

[Kutner and "Thirteen" exchange evil smiles as "Thirteen" brandishes a much bigger and scarier needle. Irene's eyes bulge in horror and "Thirteen" s*ab the large needle down towards Irene's left forearm.]

IRENE WALESA: No!

[A s*ab sound is heard and Irene screams out loudly, as the needle pierces her skin and blood seeps out. "Thirteen" and Kutner seem pleased with themselves.]

[Irene wakes up suddenly, drenched in sweat. "Thirteen" (not so evil in real life) stands beside her.]

"THIRTEEN": Irene. Irene?

IRENE WALESA: [sighs weakly] You s*ab me.

"THIRTEEN": You were having a nightmare. Wasn't real.

IRENE WALESA: [crying] My arm is bleeding.

"THIRTEEN": No, it's okay now. Your arm's not...

[She looks down and sees many bloody welts on Irene's left forearm. She looks shocked.]

CUT TO:

[Diagnostics Office. Day. The fellows sit around the glass table, while House paces about and Dobson writes on the whiteboard.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: Lesions aren't explained by Parkinson's.

GREG HOUSE: Any theories?

["Thirteen" shakes her head. Dobson finishes writing "HALLUCINATIONS, SEIZURE, DELUSIONS, SKIN LESIONS" on the whiteboard and hands the black marker to House.]

GREG HOUSE: [to "Thirteen"] A ghost got your tongue?

"THIRTEEN": I'm fine.

HENRY DOBSON: What about vasculitis?

CHRIS TAUB: MRI didn't indicate any cerebral ischemia.

HENRY DOBSON: But she has shown some focal weakness, urinary retention.

CHRIS TAUB: Yes, those are her big mystery symptoms. Not the hallucinations that vasculitis doesn't explain.

HENRY DOBSON: Unless it's retinal vasculitis.

[House looks at Dobson, liking the idea.]

CHRIS TAUB: House, this guy may be smart, and I'm sure he's great to share a beer with. But if he doesn't know that visual symptoms are an electrical issue, not vascular; two separate systems...

HENRY DOBSON: So are the banks and the power grid. But if I don't pay my bills, my lights go out.

["Thirteen" and Amber look impressed. Not so much Taub and Kutner.]

GREG HOUSE: Vasculitis restricts blood flow to nerves, messes with electrical function.

CHRIS TAUB: Acute intermittent porphyria's a better fit.

HENRY DOBSON: If you're wrong about porphyria, the treatment could box her kidneys. Vasculitis is treated with corticosteriods. Relatively harmless.

GREG HOUSE: Start her on the steroids.

CHRIS TAUB: [protesting] House...

GREG HOUSE: And test for both so he'll stop whining.

[Taub presses his temples in exasperation.]

GREG HOUSE: [to Cole] Big Love, have I humiliated you in the last half hour?

JEFFREY COLE: [apprehensive] No.

GREG HOUSE: Check your email.

[He walks off, leaving Cole to wonder what bigoted mail he might have sent. He follows the others.]

CUT TO:

[Hospital Cafeteria. Day. House stands at the counter, choosing his lunch. Cameron walks up to him.]

ALLISON CAMERON: How's it going?

GREG HOUSE: Great. The only way he could turn any more cheeks is by pulling down his pants.

ALLISON CAMERON: [takes an apple] He's not a wuss. It takes a lot more strength...

GREG HOUSE: Hey, we didn't bet on how strong he was.

ALLISON CAMERON: So you're gonna collect a hundred dollars and f*re him because he has principles? [takes a bite out of the apple]

GREG HOUSE: What's your agenda here? Obviously don't care about the hundred.

ALLISON CAMERON: He's a decent, smart...

GREG HOUSE: You don't care about the team.

ALLISON CAMERON: Does it annoy Wilson when you ask questions and ignore the answers?

GREG HOUSE: Very much. You only care about who I hire and who I f*re, 'cause you miss going through my mail. You can't stop controlling me.

ALLISON CAMERON: [chuckles] No one controls you.

GREG HOUSE: Want your job back?

ALLISON CAMERON: [right-away] No.

GREG HOUSE: Too bad. You can't have it.

[They reach the cashier.]

GREG HOUSE: [points at Cameron] She'll take care of this.

[Her mouth full of apple, Cameron looks non-plussed.]

GREG HOUSE: You can take it out of the $100 you're gonna owe me.

[He walks off with his tray. With a wry smile, Cameron reaches into her pocket for money.]

CUT TO:

[Dr. Brady's Office. Day. Foreman sits for an interview at another hospital, this time with Dr. Brady as his interviewer.]

DR. BRADY: [leaning back, reading Foreman's résumé] I met House at a conference about five years ago. He's quite a character.

ERIC FOREMAN: Yes, he is.

DR. BRADY: Probably one of the best medical minds of our generation.

ERIC FOREMAN: I agree. I-I learned an awful lot from him.

DR. BRADY: I'll bet you did. I see here you just did a stint at Mercy. Great. It says here "'07 to present." How long were you there?

ERIC FOREMAN: About a month. Dr. Schaffer was great, but just wasn't the right fit.

DR. BRADY: Wait, was that you with Dr. Schaffer and the lymphoma patient?

ERIC FOREMAN: It was, uh, it was a tough situation. I probably could've handled it better.

DR. BRADY: [sits upright] No. Dr. Schaffer's got a stick up her rear. Good for you. What made you so sure it was lymphoma?

ERIC FOREMAN: There was an unusual lactic acid level in one of her labs. I had a similar case a few months ago.

DR. BRADY: [really impressed] Beautiful. God, I wish I had your stones.

ERIC FOREMAN: [chuckles] Well, my stones are on the market.

DR. BRADY: No, I mean, seriously, I wish I had your stones. Then I could cram you down the board of directors.

[Foreman frowns nervously.]

DR. BRADY: But I don't. I'm sorry, man. Good luck.

[He hands Foreman his résumé back. Foreman looks disappointed.]

CUT TO:

[Procedure room. Day. As part of the retinal test, Irene has contact lenses (connected with wires) in her eyes. She looks into the machine. "Thirteen" and Amber conduct the test. Connie stands nearby (visible only to her daughter.]

"THIRTEEN": When your retina sees something, they send electrical signals to your brain. These lenses will pick up those signals.

AMBER VOLAKIS: If the signals are misfiring, it'll confirm that an old man without a medical license is smarter than all of us. That your hallucinations were caused by...

IRENE WALESA: [stoically] They're not hallucinations. Tell her, mom.

CONNIE WALESA: [stroking Irene's hair] Honey, they're doctors. They must know what they're doing.

IRENE WALESA: If they know what they're doing, how'd they k*ll that poor man's dog?

["Thirteen" looks up and walks aside. Amber follows to bait her.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: C'mon, this has got to be freaking you out a little bit.

"THIRTEEN": I appreciate your concern.

AMBER VOLAKIS: There's nothing to be ashamed of here. If the ghost of a man you k*lled doesn't screw with your head, there's something wrong with your head.

["Thirteen" tries to proceed, but sees a blue dog collar (with a blue metallic bone with a bite taken from it). She picks it up.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: [acts scared, shrinks back] See, that freaks me out.

"THIRTEEN": [rationalizing] Someone must've left it in here.

AMBER VOLAKIS: Oh, absolutely. That makes sense. The dog was in here getting his eyes checked and forgot to put his jewelry back on.

["Thirteen" looks accusingly at her.]

IRENE WALESA: This isn't working. You're just making me sicker like he said you...

[She gags. The two fellows go to her. She leans back in her chair in pain.]

"THIRTEEN": What's wrong?

IRENE WALESA: [in agony] My stomach, it hurts.

[Suddenly, she lurches forward and throws up blood on the floor. Her mother is frightened. Amber goes to the phone.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: [into phone] Code in the eye lab.

"THIRTEEN": Lean forward, Irene. You're gonna aspirate.

IRENE WALESA: I can't. It hurts. [crying] Why won't you help me?

["Thirteen" looks shocked at the accusation. Irene starts to cry out more in pain.]

CUT TO:

[Aerial view of PPTH. Day.]

CUT TO:

[Operating Room. Day. Irene lies unconscious in the OR, her stomach open, while Dr. Robert Chase operates on her, trying to curb the internal bleeding. Cole assists.]

ROBERT CHASE: Spleen's ripe to bursting. You guys thought it was vasculitis?

[They continue the surgery.]

JEFFREY COLE: You used to be on House's team, right?

ROBERT CHASE: Yeah. There's a lot of blood in here. Sponge.

[Cole hands him a sponge. Chase dabs it on the blood to clean some of it away.]

JEFFREY COLE: You got any advice for me?

ROBERT CHASE: Nope.

JEFFREY COLE: You always put up with this crap?

ROBERT CHASE: Yep.

JEFFREY COLE: [softly] Was it a mistake?

ROBERT CHASE: It was irrelevant.

JEFFREY COLE: He fired you.

ROBERT CHASE: He'll f*re you either way... eventually.

JEFFREY COLE: Dr. Cameron told me...

ROBERT CHASE: Don't wanna know.

JEFFREY COLE: Why not?

ROBERT CHASE: 'Cause... House is watching.

[Cole frowns quizzically.]

ROBERT CHASE: Not a metaphor. Look up.

[Wide-eyed, Cole looks up at the Observation Deck of the OR, to see House glowering at them. Using his cane, he hits the intercom button.]

GREG HOUSE: [over intercom] You guys gonna sh**t the breeze or you gonna do something about all that bleeding?

ROBERT CHASE: That's not coming from the spleen. It's the liver.

JEFFREY COLE: It's necrotic.

ROBERT CHASE: She's dying from the inside out.

[Chase and Cole exchange looks. House watches somberly.]

CUT TO:

[Diagnostics Office. Day. House adds "ENLARGED SPLEEN, NECROTIC LIVER" to the previous symptoms on the whiteboard. His fellows sit at the glass table.]

CHRIS TAUB: Enlarged spleen and liver failure are classic AIP. It's porphyria and it's moving fast.

HENRY DOBSON: [disagreeing] PBGs were negative. If you read the report...

CHRIS TAUB: [arguing] PBG tests are only conclusive if done during an att*ck, which you would know if you were a real doctor.

[House watches the exchange and smiles.]

GREG HOUSE: That is just great.

HENRY DOBSON: What is?

CHRIS TAUB: Which one of us is?

GREG HOUSE: Both of you. Together. Fighting. Passionate to prove the other one wrong. Couldn't care less about the patient, but it all works out the same.

AMBER VOLAKIS: [butts in] I hate "Thirteen".

GREG HOUSE: Not as productively. Continue.

["Thirteen" smiles.]

HENRY DOBSON: It could still be vascular.

CHRIS TAUB: [pressing his temples in frustration] Vasculitis is off the board. Steroid treatment didn't help.

HENRY DOBSON: Vascular isn't just vasculitis. Something's gotta be cutting off the blood supply to her liver and spleen.

GREG HOUSE: Do a visceral angiogram.

CHRIS TAUB: [stands and approaches House] This is a joke, right? He can't be right every single time. You're feeding him your ideas just to embarrass us.

GREG HOUSE: If I wanted to embarrass you, I'd... have you mop up the doctor's lounge.

[The others smile, while Taub stands embarrassed.]

CUT TO:

[Irene's Room. Night. While Connie counts her prayer beads, Cole injects the dye into Irene, who's unconscious. Brennan stands nearby. Cole presses a switch, bringing up the angiogram results on the monitor. He starts to wipe his hands. He sees a crucifix on Irene's neck. She stirs awake, her eyes yellow. Cole leans towards Irene.]

JEFFREY COLE: [whispering] Heavenly father, I pray thee that Thou shalt give the Holy Ghost unto all them that shall believe in Thy words.

[Unknown to him, she slowly moves her hand towards his crotch. Suddenly, she gropes him.]

JEFFREY COLE: [scandalized, withdraws] Irene. What are you doing?

IRENE WALESA: I need to touch it.

TRAVIS BRENNAN: [advances to hold her down] Irene, put your hand down.

IRENE WALESA: [yelling out] No, give it to me! I want it! Give it to me!

[They try to restrain her as she struggles more.]

CUT TO:

[House's Office. Day. House sits at his desk. The fellows enter.]

GREG HOUSE: What'd the angio say?

JEFFREY COLE: Couldn't finish. She started groping me.

GREG HOUSE: You couldn't let her get to second base just to get the test done?

LAWRENCE KUTNER: I think that's third base.

TRAVIS BRENNAN: She was convulsing, delirious, and hyper-salivating. We had to knock her out with lorazepam.

GREG HOUSE: Well, it's definitely not vascular.

JEFFREY COLE: What do you want us to do?

GREG HOUSE: [leans back in his chair] Question is what would Joseph Smith do?

JEFFREY COLE: This isn't the time for...

GREG HOUSE: Casting out the demons?

JEFFREY COLE: [arguing] The patient's not possessed, she's dying. You can mock me tomorrow.

[House stands and walks over to Cole.]

GREG HOUSE: You believe that the Book has all the answers.

JEFFREY COLE: [humoring him] To morality, not science!

GREG HOUSE: But the book is inconsistent with science. You know how many epileptics were tortured because they were possessed? How many teenage witches were stoned to death 'cause they took mushrooms?

JEFFREY COLE: [barely restraining himself] Just shut up already! We got a patient dying!

[Cole walks away, looking away from House.]

GREG HOUSE: Either got to prescribe an exorcism or admit to me that Smith was a horny fraud.

[That's all Cole can take. He pivots round and punches House in the mouth. House slams into a cabinet, but stays upright. The others restrain Cole. House's bottom lip is bleeding. The others are startled. Cole sighs, expecting to be fired. Amber has an epiphany.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: I know what she has.

[The others look at her.]

GREG HOUSE: You couldn't have spoken up ten seconds ago? You coulda saved me a hundred bucks.

AMBER VOLAKIS: [beaming] Mushrooms weren't the only thing that got people stoned to death. Jimson weed, belladonna, mandrake root, and... moldy bread. It's Ergot poisoning.

"THIRTEEN": You'd need damp grain that had been...

JEFFREY COLE: ... completely unprocessed and untreated like what's in that organic rye bread she's been eating. [to House] Should I be going home?

GREG HOUSE: Is it six o'clock?

AMBER VOLAKIS: It's why she got worse on the bromocriptine. It's an ergot derivative.

TRAVIS BRENNAN: There hasn't been a case in fifty years.

AMBER VOLAKIS: She kept asking for milk. Dairy products counteract the effects.

"THIRTEEN": You think she knew what she had and was treating it?

AMBER VOLAKIS: Cravings based on actual needs. It's a fairly common evolutionary development.

[House thinks about it and turns to Cole.]

GREG HOUSE: You okay with an answer based on evolution?

JEFFREY COLE: [uncertainly] Yeah.

GREG HOUSE: Hypocrite.

[He walks past him.]

CUT TO:

[Irene's Room. Day. Amber and "Thirteen" explain the affliction to Irene, while Connie sits next to her on the bed.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: It's the stuff they make LSD from. The treatment you're on should...

IRENE WALESA: So I've just been... tripping?

"THIRTEEN": It explains the hallucinations, seizures, delusions. Constricts the blood vessels, which explains the necrosis.

[Irene looks down mournfully. She turns to where Connie sits.]

IRENE WALESA: She's not here?

[Connie shakes her head sadly. Irene looks at the two fellows.]

"THIRTEEN": [sympathetically] I'm sorry. No.

[Irene nods her head sadly.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: The fact that you're even willing to accept that answer means the medicine is starting to work.

[Irene nods and looks at her mother. Connie gently strokes her head.]

CONNIE WALESA: But you'll live. You're beautiful, Reena.

IRENE WALESA: [tearfully] You too, mama.

["Thirteen" watches emotionally. Connie removes her crucifix pendant from around her neck and places it over Irene's one. They merge together (basically, Irene is actually wearing Connie's crucifix). Connie strokes Irene's hair lovingly. They look at each other.]

IRENE WALESA: [choking] I'm going to miss you.

[Connie smiles sadly.]

IRENE WALESA: [softly] Mama.

[But this time, she does not see her anymore. She strokes her pendant and looks outside, where it's raining heavily.]

CUT TO:

[Hospital Auditorium. Night. The fellows are now sitting facing the back entrance where House has been entering from all the time. The front entrance opens and House enters, carrying a bunch of flowers. The fellows quickly turn their seats around to face him, as he walks to the desk.]

GREG HOUSE: As you know, there are seven of you and... [counts the flowers and dumps a few of them] only six roses.

LAWRENCE KUTNER: Those are peonies.

[House throws him a thr*at look.]

LAWRENCE KUTNER: But I'm sure they're part of the rose family. [smiles]

GREG HOUSE: Actually, I'm surprised there are seven of you. [to Cole] You punch your boss and stick around?

[Cole sits calmly in his seat.]

JEFFREY COLE: [coolly] Gimme the flower and shut up.

[House hands him a peony.]

GREG HOUSE: Don't overdo it. [to the rest] Now I would love to keep all of you. But not enough to do anything about it. So according to my arbitrary schedule, one of you has to go.

[He starts to look at the other fellows with a dramatic look. Kutner looks scared, Brennan looks down. House looks at Dobson and Taub, then "Thirteen". Amber smiles at "Thirteen"'s discomfort. House starts to look around again and then settles on Amber.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: [chuckles uneasily] You're kidding.

[House only keeps looking at her.]

AMBER VOLAKIS: [jumps up from her seat, angry] I came up with the answer. I robbed a grave. I...

"THIRTEEN": ... planted a dog collar in the procedure room just to screw with my head.

AMBER VOLAKIS: [to House] No, I never...

[House hands her a peony. She shuts up.]

"THIRTEEN": What, you don't believe she did it?

GREG HOUSE: I'm sure she did it. That's why she's getting the flower. It was beautiful.

[Amber smiles and sits.]

GREG HOUSE: She just overreached. She got into your head.

"THIRTEEN": No. I...

[Amber smiles cockily at "Thirteen".]

GREG HOUSE: She owned you. Planting the idea was good. Letting it fester was good. Leaving the collar was stupid. Well known fact, ghosts don't leave things lying around.

"THIRTEEN": So am I gone then?

[House walks up to her and hands her a peony. She takes it rather coyly. Amber doesn't seem happy. Cole and "Thirteen" bump peonies. House turns to the others and reacts as if surprised.]

GREG HOUSE: Oh, my goodness. I'd totally forgotten about you two. Well played.

[He hands peonies to Kutner and Brennan. Brennan, betraying his anxiety, jumps for the peony, and fumbles for it. He and Kutner bump fists in relief. That brings us to the last peony. House stands in front of Dobson and Taub, swaying the flower. Dobson doesn't look too stressed. Taub, on the other hand, seems resigned to being fired. Finally...]

GREG HOUSE: Sorry, Henry.

[Dobson smiles sportingly. Taub seems surprised.]

GREG HOUSE: We had some giggles.

[House hands the peony to Taub, who's still confused.]

CHRIS TAUB: You agreed with everything he said. You finished each other's sentences.

HENRY DOBSON: That's why I gotta go. Don't need someone to tell you what you're already thinking.

GREG HOUSE: Funny, I was gonna say that.

[Dobson smirks.]

GREG HOUSE: If you want to hang out...

HENRY DOBSON: [standing] Yeah, I know. Um, call Wilson.

[House smiles at him.]

GREG HOUSE: Rest of you, eight o'clock tomorrow.

[He walks out. Dobson, though disappointed, keeps smiling and nods. He and Taub exchange pleasant looks.]

CUT TO:

[Hospital Hallways. Night. House, on his way out, is approached by a triumphant Cameron.]

ALLISON CAMERON: Cash will be fine.

GREG HOUSE: [getting the money] I bet you say that to all the guys.

[He takes out a hundred and hands it to her.]

GREG HOUSE: Take your blood money.

[She yanks it from his hand and smilingly puts it in her pocket.]

GREG HOUSE: Who are you gonna protect next?

ALLISON CAMERON: If I told you, it wouldn't work.

[Victoriously, she walks away. A clap of thunder is heard. House limps away.]

CUT TO:

[Cuddy's Office. Night. The thunderstorm continues outside. Cuddy sits at her desk. The door opens and Foreman enters.]

ERIC FOREMAN: I've rethought some things.

LISA CUDDY: Glad to hear it.

ERIC FOREMAN: I'm prepared to come back on a number of conditions. I want the raise you promised, plus five percent. I want my own office and a personal assistant.

LISA CUDDY: It's not unreasonable.

[Foreman smiles.]

LISA CUDDY: I will give you... none of those. [smiles] You can come back at your original salary.

ERIC FOREMAN: [frowns confused] What's going on?

LISA CUDDY: You haven't rethought anything. You've just been blackballed. You're "House Lite" now. The only administrator that will touch you is the one who hired "House Classic". [almost enjoying this] Good news is, she'll pretend she's not doing you a favor.

[Foreman looks defeated.]

ERIC FOREMAN: I can start Monday.
{"type": "series", "show": "House", "episode": "04x04 - Guardian Angels"}