[The scene opens inside the virtual world of a video game. The camera is moving forward. A large vaultlike metal door slides opens, and a huge bat creature shrieks and flies out. Dripping water and electrical crackling can be heard. Three mutant human avatars are present inside what looks like an abandon factory, which is now being used for illicit scientific experiments. It is a large dirty space with exposed pipes and cables hanging from the ceiling and old metal parts lying around. But it also has some modern features. It is well lit, has a large aquarium t*nk, which holds at least one shark, and smaller t*nk with other creatures floating in them. There are also some electronic gadgets, which are emitting sparks of electricity.]

[Vince (the leader), is the most human looking of the three. His face is rather catlike, but his feet are hooves. He is wearing armor and carrying a large w*apon. Lee is a chimp-like character who moves through the space by swinging from pipes on the ceiling. He is carrying a smaller w*apon. Roy is the scariest of the three. He stands upright but looks more like a lizard than a human. He is also carrying a w*apon.]

[Vince, Lee, and Roy appear to be trapped in this building]

Vince: I guess everybody else is d*ad... Which means we're totally outnumbered. We got to make up for that in pure firepower.

Lee: (speaking from a broken hole in the ceiling) You want to raid the feeding area, don't you?

Vince: Two boxes of grenades in there. It's our only chance at getting out.

Roy: Uh, Vince, that place is a death trap.

Vince: Lucky for you, I’ve got the mega-blaster. Lee, you go right. Roy, straight down the middle. I'll cover you both.

[The three characters move forward until they are standing in front of a heavy metal door with a lit sign which reads “feeding area three”]

Vince: 1, 2, 3!

[The door opens to reveal hundreds of bats in a room with human skeletons on the floor. Roy and Lee start f*ring. The bats are screeching.]

Lee: Where's that cover f*re? Mega-blaster, dude. Mega-blaster!

Roy: Aah! What the hell?

Lee: Got it! Vince, where are you?

Roy: (on his back now, fending off bats) Ah, I can't get them off of me!

Lee: (also on his back and being att*cked by bats, is bleeding unrealistic looking blood) Vince, you d-bag, where are you? Damn it. Damn it.

[Scene switches to the control room for the game where Vince’s play station is empty, his w*apon and helmet lie on the floor. The screen on the wall says “Game Over.” Lee pushes up the visor of his helmet]

Roy: Damn it, Vince. Ahh.

Roy: (removing his helmet) That blood look funny to you?

Lee: Still working on it. The code's a little janky.

Lee: (calling to Vince in the office which can be seen through a large window) Hey, boss, you just like watching us get our asses shredded?

Roy: Yeah, not that you're not hilarious, but we h*t the shelves in three months.

[They get no response from Vince]

Roy: Vince?

[Looking concerned, Lee and Roy run into the office]

Lee: Vince, what's wrong?

Vince: (sitting on a couch, is in pain. He holds out his hands, which are red) My hands. They're on f*re.

OPENING CREDITS

[Scene opens in the ER at PPTH. Thirteen pulls back a cubicle curtain to reveal Vince sitting on the bed]

Thirteen: (to Vince) Your NCV test was normal. Rules out carpal tunnel. No evidence of trauma. Your blood work looks normal.

Vince: Then what is it?

Thirteen: I don't know. I'll arrange to have you transferred to a neurologist.

Vince: A neurologist? Don't you have some famous diagnostics guy? What's he doing?

[Cut to House standing in front of Cuddy and Foreman in her office]

House: I quit.

Foreman: You can't quit.

House: I think you're confusing me with Jake Gyllenhaal.

Cuddy: House, are you okay?

House: Yeah, and I want to stay that way. Talked it over with my therapist. I need to change my environment, my habits.

Foreman: But he cleared you to get your license back.

House: Which will help immensely with my new job in research. I’ve sent out some resumes. Research means no patients, less pressure.

Cuddy: Well, you just got out. Have you had enough time to think this through?

House: I'm sorry. I know this will affect both of you... And Thirteen... And the one with the nose. I just can't risk coming back here.

Cuddy: Okay.

[House nods and leaves]

Cuddy: (to Foreman) That was surprising.

Foreman: (sitting back and clearing his throat) I want to run the department.

Cuddy: You consider waiting until House clears the lobby before you start angling for his job?

Foreman: He's not d*ad or sentimental and somebody needs to do it.

Cuddy: Not necessarily. Departments of diagnostic medicine don't exist. The only reason we have one is because of House.

Foreman: You reassigned us, kept us on payroll for three months. You might as well give me a chance.

Cuddy: You're a great doctor. I want you to stay on in neuro. But House was a genius.

Foreman: House was an egotistical, pill-popping lawsuit magnet... And a genius. And I worked with him longer than anybody else. I can do this.

Cuddy: (considers for a moment) You get one sh*t.

[Cut to the diagnostics office where Taub and Thirteen are pulling dust covers off of the furniture. Foreman is holding a medical file]

Taub: What's House gonna do?

Foreman: No idea, but he's gone. So how about we focus on the medicine? (He notices that Thirteen is looking at him) What?

Thirteen: You’re the boss. It's kind of sexy.

Taub: Here I thought it was just the pants. Uh, diabetic neuropathy?

Foreman: Hba1c looks fine. Could be hypothyroidism.

Thirteen: No fatigue or weight gain. What about complex regional pain syndrome?

Taub: That’s a good idea.

Foreman: Let's run with it. Look at that. No House, the job still gets done.

Thirteen: And yet something's missing.

Taub: I’m short. He's black. You're gay-ish.

Thirteen: That's it.

Foreman: Treat for CRPS. Prep the patient for spinal stimulation.

[Cut to Taub and Thirteen talking to Vince in his room. Vince has his laptop open on the table]

Vince: I don't buy it.

Taub: CRPS isn't that well understood, but –

Vince: I think it's mercury poisoning. I eat a ton of sushi.

Thirteen: And you're currently getting mixed reviews in “Speed-the-Plow” on Broadway. (Vince and Taub look at her questioningly) Google it. It's pretty hard to consume enough fish to give yourself mercury poisoning, and it doesn't usually present solely with pain.

Vince: But it can. Check out the “Atlantic Medical Journal”. This guy came in with burning pain caused by, uh, "erythromelalgia", caused by mercury poisoning.

Thirteen: Who needs actual doctors when you got the internet?

Vince: No offense, but doctors make mistakes. Medical errors are up 30% this year.

Taub: You should check the rate of patient error.

Vince: There's a ton of information out there. Why wouldn't I educate myself, be my own advocate? CRPS came up in my search too. But I’ve never had any skin discoloration, and my pain is sporadic and not constant. It's got to be worth one lousy blood test.

[Cut to Foreman standing in the doorway of House’s office. He walks around to stand behind the desk, looking very smug. He pulls the dust cover off of the desk. The camera focuses on House’s red and grey ball. Foreman sits down in the chair and picks up the ball. Cameron walks in]

Cameron: You know how House feels about people touching his ball.

Foreman: No. Chase refuses to tell me. (He puts the ball back on the desk)

Cameron: Right. My husband's gay. Witty. I hear you're taking over for House. You're gonna be great. Congratulations.

Foreman: Not permanent.

Camreon: Yet. Taub and Thirteen cool with it? He's older than you. She's seen you naked.

Foreman: Not like we haven't been working together for two years now.

Cameron: Working with is different than working for. (She sits down in front of the desk) You saw House. How was he?

Foreman: He was... Good. He was honest, took responsibility. It was kind of weird.

Cameron: Uh, is Thirteen around? I need her to sign off on her ER transfer.

Foreman: She and Taub are doing a spinal stimulation.

Cameron: No, they're not. I just dropped a patient in the cath suite, and your guys were not in there. (Cameron leaves, Foreman looks perturbed)

[Cut to Taub and Thirteen in the lab. Foreman walks in]

Foreman: You know, usually spinal stimulation is done with the patient in the room.

Thirteen: He asked us to test his blood for mercury. It's unlikely, but not impossible.

Foreman: It’s also not what we agreed on.

Thirteen: Testing doesn't hurt. It only takes 20 minutes. I figured it didn't matter.

Foreman: I’m thinking I should decide when it matters.

Taub: When you're done marking your territory... Test results. Surprise, surprise. Marcus Webly was wrong.

Foreman: (taking the results folder from Taub) I'll handle this.

[Cut to a quick exterior sh*t of Mayfield Psychiatric Hospital and then to Dr. Nolan’s office. He is talking to House]

Dr. Nolan: You expected not to have mixed feelings?

House: I know it's the right call. Just don't know what to do with my time. And my leg – (rubbing his thigh) Pain's flared up since I left Mayfield. Ibuprofen’s barely putting a dent in it.

Dr. Nolan: You need a hobby.

House: Right. Doctors the world over treat chronic pain with collections of Hummel figurines.

Dr. Nolan: No, I didn't say you need a lame hobby. You need something to keep you engaged, connected to other people.

House: You already made me get a roommate. Wilson's got one bedroom. I don't think we can get any more connected without unzipping.

Dr. Nolan: Okay. So what does Wilson like to do?

[Cut to Foreman entering Vince’s hospital room]

Foreman: Vince, I’m Dr. Foreman, head of diagnostics.

Vince: So you must be the genius' replacement.

Foreman: I prefer to think of myself as genius 2.0. Your blood tests ruled out mercury poisoning.

Vince: What was my mercury level?

Foreman: 2.8. That means for every deciliter of?

Vince: I know what it means. I also know it's above normal. I want mercury chelation.

Foreman: Your level isn't elevated enough to produce your symptoms.

Vince: You can't know that until we de-elevate it and see if my pain improves. It’s a judgment call.

Foreman: Based on ten years of medical training? I think you have CRPS. I want to try spinal stimulation.

Vince: So, basically, you want to shove a needle in my spine based on a glorified hunch. I'll stick with the chelation.

Foreman: If you don't want to get better, I think we're done.

Vince: What do you mean "done"?

Foreman: You're not interested in my medical opinion. I’ll move on to my next patient. You'll move on to a doctor willing to run all the unnecessary tests and procedures you want. Or you can stick around and be cured. Makes no difference to me.

[Cut to Taub and Thirteen performing the spinal stimulation on Vince]

Thirteen: I’m glad you changed your mind.

Vince: Don’t know about that. Dr. Foreman basically strong-armed me, which is impressive.

Taub: Stimulating at 100 hertz. Guess you found him a little more persuasive than two of us – Probably the pants.

Vince: He reminds me of me. (groaning) Is it supposed to hurt?

Thirteen: Not if we're in correctly. Is it your hands? Your back?

Vince: (obviously in pain) No, my chest. Can't breathe.

Taub: Heart rate's 140, climbing.

Thirteen: You need to hold still.

Vince: What did you do?

Taub: (placing an oxygen mask over Vince’s mouth) Deep breaths.

Thirteen: His lungs are filling with fluid.

[Cut to the diagnostics office. Foreman, Taub, and Thirteen are running a new differential]

Taub: Analysis of the fluid from Vince’s lungs shows the lung problem is really a heart problem. He's got a thickened left ventricle.

Thirteen: When his heart sped up during the procedure, it jacked up the pressure in his lungs, causing pulmonary edema.

Foreman: Good thing I talked the patient into spinal stimulation.

Thirteen: It did lead us to discovering a new symptom and proved he was wrong about mercury poisoning.

Foreman: We lucked into that discovery, and we were wrong about CRPS. Ventricular thickening plus neuropathy could equal Lyme disease.

Taub: Not without joint pain.

Foreman: When is his new game coming out?

Thirteen: Couple months.

Foreman: He’s probably working nonstop. Might be using more than coffee to power through.

Taub: Cocaine use explains the symptoms.

Thirteen: (getting up) So we search his office for drugs.

Foreman: No. We're gonna ask him.

[Cut to a large industrial kitchen where House and Wilson are taking a cooking class. House is shaping meatballs and Wilson is stirring sauce]

Cooking Teacher: In a lot of ways, cooking is like music. Different elements combine to make a symphony.

House: Difference is that Beethoven’s 5th isn't gonna be poop tomorrow.

Wilson: What was my one condition for allowing you to tag along?

House: Try not to be a jerk. I'm trying. I’m just failing.

Wilson: Roll your meatballs and keep an open mind.

[sh*t of House with a scheming smirk on his face]

Wilson: How hard are you trying not to make a ball joke right now?

House: (looking past Wilson) They're smoking. (Wilson looks at him questioningly) Your balls.

Wilson: (turning to see his meatballs smoking in the frying pan. He turns off the burner and grabs up the spatula) Ow. No, no. They're browning way too fast.

House: Blue is the color you got to watch out for.

Wilson: Enough. My God, they're – they're still raw inside. By the time they're cooked through, the outside will be b*rned.

House: I think there's a medicated powder for that. Although, vinegar could work. (looking for vinegar among a collection of bottles on the shelf) My o-chem prof talked about how, theoretically, you shouldn't trust the results of a hemoglobin a1c test on a chronically acidotic patient. The acid in the blood slows the reaction between the hemoglobin protein and blood sugar. Browning meat is the same chemical process, which means, it should also be slowed by acid. (House has poured some vinegar into a cup and is brushing it onto the meatballs in the frying pan)

Wilson: That actually makes sense. You might've... saved my balls.

House: (smiling) That's the spirit.

[Cut to Foreman and Thirteen talking to Vince in his room at PPTH]

Foreman: Obviously, the procedure didn't go as planned. The heart problem was unforeseeable, but I still feel responsible. I’m sorry.

Vince: Okay. How long you guys been doing it?

Thirteen: I think it's best if we kept things professional.

Vince: Tough to do now that I’ve seen you rock a leopard-print bikini. Congrats, by the way. (holding up his hand) Up top.

[Foreman turns Vince’s laptop around to reveal a beach photo of Foreman and Thirteen]

Foreman: You hacked my profile page?

Vince: Your treatment nearly gave me a heart att*ck. Figured I’d check if you had the credentials to go with the cojones. One search led to another. Is there a sh*t of just her? I’m thinking screen saver.

Thirteen: (closing the laptop) We need to know if you've been using cocaine.

Vince: Nope. Dude, you just block everybody, or do you really only have three friends?

Foreman: We need you to be straight with us. We need to be able to trust you.

Vince: I cleaned up my act 12 years ago... After my college roommate ODed.

Foreman: Okay.

[Cut to Foreman and Thirteen exiting Vince’s room. They talk as they walk toward the elevator]

Foreman: Search his office.

Thirteen: You think he was lying?

Foreman: No, but I’m not sure.

Thirteen: It was worth asking. If he'd had said yes, it would've saved us a trip.

Foreman: But he didn't.

Thirteen: You have to forget about him.

Foreman: The patient?

Thirteen: House. First, you try acting like him. That doesn't work. So then you try the opposite. Now you're mad because you have to use his move.

Foreman: I feel like Tom Brady’s backup.

Thirteen: Tom Brady’s backup now makes 10 million dollars. Stop comparing. You can do this by being you.

Foreman: We should still check out his office, talk to his coworkers.

[They stop by the elevator. Foreman pushes the elevator button and Thirteen heads off to find Taub]

Thirteen: I'll get Taub.

Foreman: And... Thanks. Oh, and dinner tonight at 7:00.

Thirteen: Can we make it 8:00?

Foreman: Already made a reservation for 7:00.

[Cut to House answering the door of Wilson’s apartment. Cuddy is standing there]

Cuddy: Hi.

House: (gesturing for Cuddy to follow and heading toward the kitchen) I’m making gnocchi.

[A middle aged Chinese woman is working in the kitchen]

Cuddy: (seeing the woman) Oh, I didn't mean to intrude, I just…

House: Cecile’s in my cooking class. She doesn't speak English.

Cecile: (in Chinese) WHO'S THE BROAD?

House: (in Chinese) MISSIONARY

House: (rolling some pastry on a board) You bake the potatoes instead of boiling them, it's less moisture, fewer gluten bonds, lighter gnocchi.

Cuddy: You seem good.

House: Feeling better.

Cecile: (in Chinese) IF SHE'S A MISSIONARY, WHY DOES SHE DRESS LIKE A HOOKER?

House: (in Chinese) I MEANT THE POSITION.

Cuddy: House, I need to talk to you about your leaving the hospital.

House: I do love a good groveling, but my decision is final.

Cuddy: That’s fine, as long as I’m not the reason for it. I know that sounds completely narcissistic, but =

House: Yeah. But it's not. We flirted. We kissed. I fondled. I hallucinated a night with you and yelled it from a hospital balcony. You're not a narcissist.

Cuddy: So what am I?

House: Not the reason I’m leaving.

Cuddy: House... I'm gonna miss you.

Cecile: (in English) Lady, either kiss him or leave. We got work to do.

House: (to Cecile) You just couldn't keep your trap shut.

Cecile: Make the damn gnocchi.

Cuddy: Bye.

[Cut to the video game virtual world. Taub and Thirteen are playing. Thirteen’s avatar is the chimp-like character and Taub’s is the large ugly lizard creature. They are talking as they sh**t at critters in the virtual world. The camera moves back and forth between Taub and Thirteen wearing the game helmets and their avatars in the video game]

Taub: I guess you're not in a hurry to get back to the office.

Thirteen: And you are?

Taub: I'm not trying to avoid my boyfriend. I'm a lizard, not an idiot. You've been in a crappy mood since we got in the car.

Thirteen: And you're completely okay with being ordered around by someone who 24 hours ago was basically your equal?

Taub: Unlike you, I didn't expect anything different.

Thirteen: The work part, I can get used to. He didn't ask me to go to dinner. He told me we were going. He's never done that before.

Taub: So even the score. Go home tonight, put on some heels, and break him like a pony. You'll feel much better. (Both Thirteen and her avatar give him a look) What?

Taub: (paying more attention to the game now) Wow, that's one big-ass bird.

[In the virtual world a huge prehistoric bird has appeared outside a large window of the building. The avatars start sh**ting at the bird, which just disturbs all the bats and they are quickly overwhelmed by the attacking bats.]

Thirteen: (fascinated by the bats) It's kind of amazing. The way the wings move, it's so real.

[Thirteen’s avatar is ignoring the attacking bats, but Taub’s avatar (and Taub himself in the game room) has collapsed to the floor, trying to fend them off with his arms and legs]

Taub: Get them off me!

Thirteen: I know what's wrong with the patient. I'm going to call Foreman.

[Thirteen steps off the game pad leaving Taub still flailing on the floor]

Taub: Little help.

[Cut to Taub and Thirteen talking to Vince in his room]

Taub: Your partner said you studied birds to improve the game animation. Did you touch them?

Vince: Can't dissect without touching. It's the best way to understand the anatomy.

Thirteen: It's also a good way to contract an infection called psittacosis. We spoke to Dr. Foreman. He wants to start you on antibiotics.

Vince: Does that infection cause problems in the... joystick area? I’m kind of stuck in play mode.

Taub: Yes, we get it. She’s very, very pretty.

Vince: It's not her. I mean, it was... When she was here with her boyfriend three hours ago.

Thirteen: You've had an erection for three hours?

Vince: At first, it was just embarrassing, but now it's really starting to hurt. Will the antibiotics help?

Thirteen: I'm afraid not. This isn't psittacosis.

[Cut to a quick exterior sh*t of PPTH in the early evening and then to the diagnostics office]

Taub: His erection persisted even with medication. We had to put in a surgical shunt just to drain the blood.

Foreman: (to Thirteen) You missed dinner. And a shunt doesn't require both of you.

Thirteen: I'm dedicated. So the Holy Trinity: heart, hands, hose.

Taub: Could be Guillain Barre.

Foreman: Not with normal nerve conduction. Thrombocytosis.

Thirteen: His platelet count isn't that high. Brain tumor makes more sense.

Taub: (laughing) I'm sorry. I just realized... Joint pain and joint pain. Honest, I wasn't laughing because of the obvious tension between the two of you. Erection points to a circulatory problem. I'm with Foreman.

Thirteen: It is possible for a brain tumor to cause –

Foreman: We're going with thrombocytosis.

Thirteen: Okay.

[Cut to Foreman and Thirteen stepping off the elevator. They talk as they walk down the hall]

Foreman: You're mad I didn't ask you to dinner? How long have we been dating?

Thirteen: It felt like an order. Your tone of voice was—

Foreman: My tone? I'm under a little pressure right now. How about giving me a break?

Thirteen: Look, this is tough for both of us, except I haven't just gotten a promotion.

Foreman: So now you're jealous.

Thirteen: No. I’m just saying don't complain about the burdens of command to your employees.

Foreman: I was complaining to my girlfriend. (They stop outside of Vince’s room. Two men are in the room with him) Who are those guys?

Thirteen: I have no idea.

[Foreman and Thirteen enter the room]

Vince: Meet the competition.

Dr. Paulson: Steve Paulson. Neurology, St. Mark's. Nice to meet you.

Foreman: You called another doctor?

Vince: Lots of other doctors. Posted my symptoms on the internet. You guys are 0 for 2. I thought I’d look for some backup.

Dr. Felker: I can cure all your symptoms with my papaya toxin cleanse. Month's supply, $395.

Vince: Okay, that guy's an idiot. That doesn't mean they all are.

Foreman: Neither one of you have privileges at this hospital. Please leave... Now.

[Dr. Felker picks up his briefcase and leaves the room, Dr. Paulson stays]

Dr. Paulson: Ah, Dr. Foreman, sorry for the intrusion, but, um, I noticed you haven't done a head MRI yet.

Foreman: 'Cause he doesn't need one.

Dr. Paulson: I'm pretty sure he's got a brain tumor.

Foreman: We considered that and concluded thrombocytosis is more likely. I'm starting him on hydroxyurea.

Dr. Paulson: His platelets don't seem anywhere near high enough. If you took an image, I’m sure you'll –

Foreman: There are no signs of increased ICP. I’m not delaying treatment.

Vince: Looks like we need a tiebreaker. Dr. Hadley, what do you think?

Thirteen: I think both theories have merit.

Vince: So, brain tumor, otherwise you'd back your boss/boyfriend. I want an MRI.

Foreman: Fine. I’ll set it up.

[Cut to Wilson’s kitchen. House is stirring something in a pot. Wilson ambles in, hair mussed and wearing pajamas]

House: Great. You're up. I need a taster. Ragout with pork sausage, beef thigh, no cream. (He holds a wooden spoonful of ragout in front of Wilson)

Wilson: It's a little early. (He hesitates, then tastes the ragout, and gives a positive nod) Did you even go to bed last night?

House: Bed is for sissies, unless you're having sex, in which case... No, bed is still for sissies.

Wilson: Doesn't this seem a little bit obsessive?

House: (stirring again) Should've been here when I was butchering the ox. What do you expect? I’m an addict. I turn everything up to eleven.

Wilson: Yeah. I thought you were trying to tone that down.

House: No. I was trying to find something I could set at eleven without bl*wing out my eardrums. (pulling a wooden spoon out of another pot) Star anise with caramelized onions. The sulfur compounds bring out the meat flavor. (He gives the spoon to Wilson) I couldn't sleep because of my leg. It was either make ragout or go out on the street looking to score.

Wilson: (taking a taste from the spoon) Good choice. So, so good. (House grins and Wilson takes another taste)

[Cut to the MRI suite. Foreman is in the control room watching the monitor. Thirteen walks in]

Thirteen: He asked me a question. I answered.

Foreman: You told me to make my own decisions. I do, and you s*ab me in the back.

Thirteen: I didn't even say what I really thought. I hedged, and I don't like that I hedged. If I have a legitimate opinion –

Foreman: Express it in private. In public, the team opinion is your opinion.

Thirteen: Except the team opinion is your opinion.

Foreman: That's my job.

Thirteen: And what's mine, to lie when I’m asked a direct question?

Foreman: You would've done it for House. Maybe you just don't want me to succeed. Maybe you just want to kick me again for not asking you to dinner.

Thirteen: At least when House was being an unbelievable jerk, I could talk to my boyfriend about it.

Foreman: I may be a jerk, but you're wrong. MRI is clean. Treat for thrombocytosis. (He leaves the control room)

[Cut to House opening Wilson’s apartment door to Thirteen]

House: You're early. (He turns and heads for the kitchen. He is wearing a bib apron)

Thirteen: (following House to the kitchen) For what?

House: I knew you'd show up here complaining about Foreman. Thought you'd hold out for another week at least.

Thirteen: I showed up to ask if you've seen thrombocytosis with a platelet count under –

House: I went crazy, not stupid. I leave, Foreman embraces his inner mugabe.

[House is at the stove. He uses a strainer to pull a small, round, yellow object out of a pot of water]

Thirteen: What's that?

House: Embryonali – unhatched chicken egg. (He drops the egg into his hand and passes it from one hand to the other until it is cool enough to hold) I'm gonna suck out some of the yolk and replace it with ragout. By the way, you can tell the other lepers that their absence has been noted.

Thirteen: Cameron didn't come by?

[House uses a syringe to suck the yolk out of the egg]

House: Daddy's little co-dependent is all grown up. Making room for daddy's hot bisexual with boyfriend problems.

Thirteen: It's not a problem. It’s, um... Okay. It’s a problem. I mean, I get it, the patient's a nightmare. He posted his case online. It – you know Foreman. You know the situation. How can I get him to tone it down?

[House is now using another syringe to inject ragout into the egg]

House: Stop being a coward for one thing.

Thirteen: He's the one who's afraid of failure.

House: At a job that no one before me has ever done. His fears are justified. You're just afraid of giving him control over you, which might work at home. It makes it almost impossible for him to do his job. Pass me those crackers.

Thirteen: (bring a tray of crackers over to House) You're saying this is all my fault?

House: I'm saying... That you would be happier if you learned when it's okay to give in. (He looks up to find Thirteen staring at him in wonderment) What?

Thirteen: You just suggested that I give in so that I can be happy. What did they do to you in there?

[House has put the finished egg on a cr*cker. He hands it to Thirteen]

House: Taste this.

[Thirteen puts the cr*cker in her mouth and chews slowly]

Thirteen: Um, good. This might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten. And, yes, I’m including what you're thinking of now. You are an amazing cook!

House: I know. And yet, my leg hurts. (He rubs his thigh and leans against the kitchen island)

[Cut to Chase and Foreman walking toward the elevator]

Chase: f*re her.

Foreman: I’m not gonna f*re her.

Chase: Then stop being such a wuss.

Foreman: I'm not being a wuss.

Chaes: Challenging you is part of her job. But when she does it, you take it personally.

Foreman: So you're saying this is my fault?

[They step into the elevator]

Chase: I was trying to bury it a little, but, yeah. You’ve got to eliminate either the challenge or the reaction.

Foreman: Or, we could stick with my original plan. We get drunk and talk about how girls are lame.

Chase: Yeah. This problem will go away on its own.

[Cut to House sitting on Wilson’s couch watching TV. He is eating ice cream. Wilson comes into the room, dressed for work]

Wilson: It's 8:00 in the morning.

House: Coffee ice cream.

Wilson: No frittata? No b*mb?

House: Started thinking about what you said, about me obsessing. Started obsessing about obsessing. Decided to take a day off.

Wilson: You were enjoying cooking.

House: How like a man to think that I enjoy slaving over a hot stove all day while you're off banging secretaries.

Wilson: You said it was keeping your mind off the pain.

House: That was before I discovered the biggest loser marathon on cable. I like to pretend they can see me eating.

Wilson: And your leg?

House: It's fine.

[Cut to Dr. Nolan’s office at Mayfield Hospital]

House: My leg's k*lling me. Cooking helped for a while. I guess I got bored. My leg started hurting again, then I got worried, and that made the pain worse.

Nolan: What are you worried about?

House: That nothing's gonna help. That I end up in the very dark place. I'm fine... Just not happy.

Dr.Nolan: I didn't let you out because you were happy. I let you out, because I believe you had the skills to cope with that. You tried one thing. It didn't work. So move on. Write. Play chess.

House: What if nothing works? What if nothing gives me more than a few days before my brain starts looking for the next fix, before my leg feels like someone's shoving nails into it? What do I do then?

Dr. Nolan: If nothing in the world can hold your interest, uh, we'll deal with that when we get to it. But you have to trust me, and you have to be patient.

[Cut to Thirteen answering her door to find Foreman standing there. He holds up a white bakery bag]

Foreman: I brought you a doughnut. The florist was closed.

Thirteen: I'll get a vase and put it in water. (She takes the bag from him. He follows her into the room)

Foreman: You know I’m sorry, right?

Thirteen: I'm sorry too. Do you think, um... We could start over?

Foreman: That's a fantastic idea.

[They kiss and Foreman starts unbuttoning Thirteen’s blouse]

Thirteen: We're gonna be late.

Foreman: Your boss won't mind.

[Thirteen laughs and pulls her top over her head just as Foreman’s pager goes off]

Foreman: (pulling his pager out of his pocket) No way.

[Cut to Foreman and Thirteen walking toward Vince’s room. Taub is already there]

Taub: His lymph nodes blew up. He's been treated for thrombocytosis, but there's been no change.

Foreman: I was wrong.

[Vince’s face is swollen]

Vince: God, you are a genius. I’m adding this to my list of symptoms.

Foreman: That didn't work last time.

Vince: Because I didn't think big enough. (typing on his laptop keyboard) Now I am offering a $25,000 reward.

[Cut to House entering his own apartment. He looks around and then flips the light switch, but the lights do not come on. He opens his closet door and takes a shoe out of a canvas shoe organizer hanging on the door. He shakes a bottle of Vicodin from the shoe into his hand and stands there just looking at it. He closes his fist around the bottle]

[Cut to the diagnostics office where the phone is ringing and the fax machine is sh**ting out paper]

Thirteen: Steroids reduced his facial swelling.

[Foreman picks up the numerous faxes off the floor and Thirteen picks up the phone without answering and puts it down again]

Taub: Swollen lymph nodes rule out thrombocytosis. (looking at his cell phone) How did so many people get my personal email?

Foreman: The Internet is a magical place. Lymph enlargement makes me think polyarteritis—

[The phone is ringing again. Thirteen pulls the cord from the back of the phone]

Thirteen: You were saying?

Foreman: No point in treating the symptom and not the disease.

[Cut to Foreman slamming the stack of faxes down on Vince’s hospital tray table]

Foreman: Your stunt generated quite a few responses. Let's take a look.

Vince: I'm way ahead of you.

Foreman: Paraneoplastic syndrome secondary to spinal tumor.

Taub: No. No hypercalcemia, no muscle spasms or incontinence.

Foreman: You are possessed by the biblical demon "legion."

Thirteen: No, no jumping off a cliff in a herd of pigs.

Foreman: Otherwise it did fit. Graves' disease.

Thirteen: Nope. Thyroid levels are normal.

Foreman: You want us to spend the next few days sh**ting down every theory in the world, or can we do our jobs and come up with one that works?

Vince: I want you to test me for amyloidosis.

Foreman: That your professional opinion?

Vince: It's the wisdom of crowds. Studies show the collective decision of a group can be more accurate than any individual's decision. I went through my emails. Amyloidosis got the most votes.

Foreman: If you had amyloidosis, there'd be speckling on your cardiac ultrasound.

Vince: In 100% of cases?

Foreman: Fine. I'll make you a deal. We'll do a kidney biopsy to test for amyloidosis. When it comes back negative, you pull your case off of the internet and retract the reward. It's either that, or I don't test you at all.

Vince: Deal.

[Cut to Wilson entering his apartment. House has a laundry basket sitting on the table. His is folding laundry]

House: If you wanted a quickie, you should've called ahead. I'm a mess.

Wilson: Came home for lunch.

House: You have lunch with Cuddy on Tuesdays.

Wilson: She was busy.

[Wilson takes something out of the refrigerator for lunch]

House: And you are checking up on me.

Wilson: You know, you can talk to me. Is that my laundry?

House: You were running out of socks for me to borrow. we got plenty of underwear, though. I'm fine.

Wilson: You said that this morning.

House: And consistency proves what? Really. I’m good. I’ll put these in your room.

[He picks up the full basket of folded laundry and limps off down the hall singing as he goes]

House: ♪You always hurt♪ ♪ The one you love♪

[Wilson watches him suspiciously and notices House’s cane propped against the back of a chair]

[Cut to Taub entering House’s office. Foreman is sitting behind the desk]

Taub: Biopsy showed deposits in the renal endothelium consistent with amyloidosis.

Foreman: The internet was right. Start him on dexamethasone.

Taub: Already done. This may not be the best time for this... But I quit. I got an offer to join a friend's surgical practice.

Foreman: You don't generally get an offer unless you're looking for one.

Taub: I put out some feelers when I found out House wasn't coming back.

Foreman: I lobbied to keep the department open so you could keep your job.

Taub: Yes. That was incredibly altruistic of you. It's nothing personal. Actually, I think you're doing pretty well. But I came here to work with House.

[Cut to Foreman and Thirteen lying on Thirteen’s bed]

Thirteen: He's a jerk. We'll be fine without him. Do you know how many resumes we get every day without even asking?

Foreman: Might be a few less after Cuddy shuts us down.

Thirteen: The case got solved under your watch. Does it really matter how it happened?

Foreman: It matters. What if I’m just not ready for this job?

Thirteen: Okay, you're sad. I could tell you the story about me and my roommate at Sarah Lawrence.

Foreman: Okay.

Thirteen: Her name was Lindsey, and she was a cheerleader from Iowa.

[Cut to Wilson entering Cuddy’s office]

Wilson: I broke my toilet this morning.

Cuddy: I'll get my tools.

Wilson: I blocked the intake valve so I could collect some of House's urine. Cuddy, he was barely limping.

Cuddy: What did the lab say?

Wilson: The urine was clean for Vicodin. It did, however, contain strange epithelial cells. Further analysis showed they were from a Labrador Retriever.

Cuddy: Damn. He's using.

[Cut to Thirteen walking toward Vince’s room. The bed is empty. She looks in the bathroom, which is also empty]

[Cut to the main lobby of PPTH. Vince comes tearing out of the stairwell, wearing his hospital gown and looking terrified. He stops in the middle of the lobby. He is hallucinating. From his view, the hospital lobby changes into the virtual world of one of his video games and it is populated by monsters. He thinks that he sees giant bats attacking him and he tries to fend them off]

[Dr. Foreman appears, but to Vince he looks like a monster is a space suit. Vince turns, looking for help and sees what he believes to be an alien creature carrying a case of grenade-like w*apon. In reality it is just a hospital visitor carrying a box containing four coffee cups. Vince grabs one of the cups and hurls it at Foreman. The coffee splatters all over Foreman, but what Vince sees is the monster in the space suit catching on f*re]

[Vince runs from Foreman toward the elevator. The elevator door opens to reveal another monster, female this time. It is really Thirteen]

Vince: No. no.

[He turns away from Thirteen and runs right into Foreman who tries to calm him down. Thirteen tries to help.

Foreman: Vince. Vince. Vince, relax. It's Dr. Foreman.

[Vince’s hallucination seems to fade as the monsters turn back into Foreman and Thirteen and the hospital lobby is a lobby again. Than he looks up to see the giant prehistoric bird from his video game crash through the front of the hospital. Vince is panicking now and is down on the floor]

Vince: k*ll it! k*ll it! No! No! I don't have my blaster!

[Vince sees the giant bird up close as it opens its mouth and screeches at him. Foreman feels his neck]

Foreman: He's hallucinating 'cause he's burning up. Amyloidosis wouldn’t do this.

[Cut to a very cowed Vince shivering in a tub of water. Foreman and Thirteen are standing outside the room with the tub]

Thirteen: The antipyretics didn't work. Hopefully the cold tub will get his temp down. Maybe we should see if anyone's sent in other ideas. Maybe the reward money attract –

Foreman: No. I’m not letting anyone else jerk us around. The masses were wrong about amyloidosis. They don't know about the fever. I'm going with light-chain deposition disorder. You okay with that?

Thirteen: Yes.

[Foreman goes in to talk to Vince]

Foreman: We think you have a disease called LCDD. It causes protein to build up in your organs.

Vince: You think?

Foreman: We can't definitely confirm the diagnosis. And our only chance of beating this would be to start you on high-dose chemotherapy. But I do have to warn you that in your condition, it might k*ll you. Do you want me to get you some more information?

Vince: You're my doctor. I trust you.

Foreman: No, you don't. You're scared, and you don't want to make this decision. My career is riding on this case... Nowhere near as important as your life. But I think the best sh*t for both of us is to treat for LCDD.

Vince: (looking shaken and scared) Okay.

Foreman: All right, let's get you out of this tub and into chemo. (He helps Vince out of the tub)

[Cut to a close-up of House taking a sip of coffee from a handmade ceramic mug]

Wilson: We know you're back on Vicodin.

[House puts the cup down on the table. He is sitting on the couch at Wilson’s apartment. Cuddy and Wilson have come to talk to him]

House: No. The only thing you know is that I’m a genius who got a dog to pee in your toilet. You don't know how I did it or, more interestingly, where I peed.

Cuddy: House, you've spent the last three months –

House: Et tu, Butte? You got no reason to be here. He's the one I was jerking around.

Wilson: Why is your leg better?

House: Ow. It hurts. Please go away now. If you really think I’m using, how about asking me before taking a wrench to your plumbing?

Cuddy: House, you're an addict. You can't be surprised if we can't take you at your word.

House: Fine. Let’s get you some proof. Hide your eyes, ladies.

[House picks up the coffee cup, dumps the coffee in a plant, turns around and unzips]

Cuddy: House.

House: (looking at Cuddy) You too.

[Cuddy puts a hand up in front of her face. Wilson looks embarrassed]

Wilson: My godson made me that mug.

House: If the lab says that this is retriever too, please let me know right away. It'd explain my overwhelming desire to wipe my butt on your carpet.

[House zips-up, puts the cup full of urine down on the coffee table, and leaves the room. Wilson shakes his head unbelievingly]

Cuddy: (to Wilson) Thank you for dragging me into this.

[Cut to the doctor’s locker room. Foreman has just stepped out of the shower. He opens his locker, takes a deodorant bottle off of the shelf and seeing his fingers, which are all wrinkly from the water, has a medical “Ah Ha” moment. He puts the deodorant back and slams the locker shut]

[Cut to Thirteen disconnecting the chemo drugs from Vince’s IV line. Foreman comes in]

Foreman: Stop the chemo. He's got Fabry's disease. He was in the tub for an hour. His fingers should have pruned, but they didn't.

Thirteen: Already stopped chemo and confirmed Fabry’s.

Vince: I’m glad you both agree, but could somebody loop me in here?

Thirteen: We assumed the deposits in your kidneys were proteins, but they were fats. Fabry’s makes them build up in your organs, choke your nerves, keep your fingers from pruning in water. It's chronic but manageable.

Foreman: (to Thirteen) How'd you figure it out?

[Foreman and Thirteen step away from the bed to talk privately]

Thirteen: Iodine mumps. His lymph nodes swelled up after the head CT. We thought it was a new symptom, but it wasn't. It was a reaction to the contrast. Iodine mumps takes lymph nodes off the table. Remove that symptom...

Foreman: And that just came to you?

Thirteen: I looked through the online responses again. Someone posted it this morning.

[Cut to a quick nighttime sh*t of PPTH and than to Foreman sitting behind the desk in House’s office. Thirteen walks in]

Thirteen: Heard Cuddy made it official. Department’s yours. Congrats. I'm sorry. I went behind your back. On a scale of 1 to 10, how mad are you?

Foreman: A 7. And that's stupid. You did the right thing. It's my fault you thought you had to go behind my back.

Thirteen: I should've stood up to you.

Foreman: But you didn't 'cause you didn't want to fight again.

Thirteen: (sitting down in front of the desk) It's our first case. It’ll take time to adjust.

Foreman: What if by the time we get adjusted, we don't like each other anymore?

Thirteen: That's not gonna happen.

Foreman: You sure? 'Cause ever since I took this job, we've been making each other miserable. I really don't think this is gonna work.

Thirteen: You're breaking up with me?

Foreman: No. The other night when I thought I was done, you were there. I need you. I don't want to lose you.

Thirteen: Why are you...? You're f*ring me.

Foreman: Sorry.

[Cut to Dr. Nolan’s office at Mayfield Hospital]

House: I slipped.

Dr. Nolan: You took Vicodin?

[House hands a check made out to himself to Nolan]

Dr. Nolan: (looking at the check) $25,000.

House: I solved my old team's case. I was about to take the pills. I went online. I found people posting medical problems, and... My leg stopped hurting.

Dr. Nolan: Oh.

House: Oh? I'm supposed to be changing my life. This is not a change.

Dr. Nolan: Well, maybe I was wrong.

House: Says the guy making sand castles in my brain.

Dr. Nolan: We need to keep you from using. Taking your job away, the medical puzzles, nearly drove you back to it. Maybe diagnostic medicine is the key to keeping you clean.

House: So you're okay with me going online, solving cases?

Dr. Nolan: No. You can't sit all day in a room by yourself. Isolation fosters depression.

House: The hospital is part of my old life. If I go back, I might become... who I was before, pills and all.

Dr. Nolan: That's a possibility. But could be... the only thing worse for you than going back to diagnostic medicine is, not going back.

House: Guess we're gonna find out.

THE END
{"type": "series", "show": "House", "episode": "06x03 - Epic Fail"}