02x01 - Acceptance

[bunniefuu]

[Opens in a prison, on death row.]


Inmate: Deep fried shrimp, and lobster. Never had lobster. What, do you boil ‘em or grill ‘em? Which one's better? Ah, just get ‘em both. And I know I need a strawberry malt, and then there’s those chocolate donuts that come in a box?


Lawyer: We’ll do our best to accommodate. Tomorrow you’ll be moved to a holding cell. That’s where you'll get your last meal. [Close up on other Inmate… let’s call him Clarence.] You also have a constitutional right to the spiritual advisor of your choice.


Inmate: Naw, I don’t need none of that.


Lawyer: One last thing to think about: After I read the execution warrant, you’ll be given an opportunity to make a statement. You might want to take some time and think about what you want to say as your final words. [He leaves.]


Inmate: Yo, Clarence! You hear that? A spiritual advisor of my choice!


Clarence: Don’t matter, you goin’ to hell anyway.


Inmate: You think I’ll get another stay?


Clarence: You should. Supreme Court say it ain’t right to k*ll retards.


Warden: Cut the chatter! Exercise time. [The guards come and take Clarence into a room with no windows, only a basketball hoop. They release him from his handcuffs through a hole in the door.] Be back in an hour. Enjoy. [Clarence walks around,and then pretends to sh**t some hoops. Suddenly, a woman appears in the room.]


Woman: Why did you hit me so many times, Clarence?


Clarence: You know why!


Woman: You could have stopped. [Another person appears.]


Man: You stabbed me in the back, man.


Clarence: I never st –


Man: You couldn’t fight fair.


Clarence: Like you did? [A guard appears.]


Guard: I had a wife and three kids.


Clarence: You are a sick bastard! Open the door! Open the door! [Another man appears.]


Man #2: Hey! What’d I ever do to you, man? [The voices continue as the figures close in on Clarence. He gets to his knees. CGI sh*t into his chest of his heart, which starts to b*at at an abnormally fast rate, until he collapses on the ground.]




[Cut to House, walking toward Cuddy’s office. He sees Stacy talking with her, and pops a Vicodin. He walks in, and--]


James: You can’t go in there.


House: Who are you, and why are you wearing a tie?


James: I’m Dr. Cuddy’s new assistant. Can I tell her what it’s regarding?


House: Yes. I would like to know why she gets a secretary and I don’t.


James: I’m her assistant, not her secretary. I graduated from Rutgers.


House: Hmm. I didn’t know they had a secretarial school. Well, I hope you took some classes in sexual harassment law. Does the word "ka-ching" mean anything to you? I’m going in now. [House enters.]


Cuddy: Dr. House, we are in the middle of a meeting.


House: What’s with hiring a male secretary? J-Date not working out?


Stacy: He is cute. Be careful.


House: She’s not like you. She can’t just walk into a bar and pick up her soul mate in twenty minutes.


Stacy: I met Mark at a fundraiser that happened to be held at a –


House: You met me at a strip club.


Stacy: You were the worst two dollars I ever spent. [to Cuddy] We’ll catch up later.


Cuddy: Stacy, it’s House. I know you can handle it.


Stacy: Nothing to handle. It’s obvious he wants to talk to you alone. [She leaves.]


Cuddy: If you have a problem working with Stacy you should have said so.


House: What was I supposed to do? Ask her to leave? That’s just rude. Death row guy. I want the case.


Cuddy: How do you even know about him? You don’t have access to the hospital’s mainframe.


House: No, but "partypants" does.


Cuddy: You stole my password?


House: Hardly counts as stealing; it’s a pretty obvious choice.


Cuddy: Well, I have already assigned Death Row Guy to Dr. Nolo.


House: Nolo? Well, I don’t want to say anything bad about another doctor… especially a useless drunk…


Cuddy: You are addicted to pain pills.


House: But I’m not useless. Tell Nolo I’m talking over.


Cuddy: Dr. Nolo is a board certified cardiologist.


House: Oh, good. I’m sure he’ll explore all the usual options for why a guy’s heart starts b*ating so fast it pumps out air instead of blood. Wait a second – there are no usual options!


Cuddy: How badly do you want this?


House: I will give you two more clinic hours this week.


Cuddy: Don’t bend over for the soap. [She hands him the file.]


[Cut to House in the hospital lobby, the Ducklings behind him.]


Cameron: Just the heart, or the patient have any other complaints?


House: The patient’s not talking to anybody.


Cameron: Where are we going?


House: You are going to the clinic for two hours.


Cameron: Me? Why?


House: Talk to Cuddy. She’s got me going to Mercer State Prison, Capital Sentences unit, I don’t know.


Foreman: Aren’t there better ways to spend our time?


House: Good question. What makes a person deserving? Is a man who cheats on his wife more deserving than a man who kills his wife?


Foreman: Uh… yeah. Actually, he is.


House: What about a child molester? Certainly not a good guy, but he didn’t k*ll anybody. Maybe he can get antibiotics,but no MRIs. What about you? What medical care should you be denied for being a car thief? Tell you what: the three of you work out a list of what medical treatments a person loses based on the crime they committed. I’ll review it when I get back. [House leaves the hospital. Chase and Foreman exit the lobby, which leaves Cameron to do the clinic hours.]


[Cut to the prison.]


Warden: Your patient shanked one inmate his first month here, broke another one’s neck, nearly decapitated one of my guards…


House: Relax, I’ve got a great bedside manner.


Warden: Too dangerous to house him in the infirmary. You don’t have to worry, we’ve taken every precaution. I've had my men clear from the cell all pens, paperclips and staplers. Any supplies that might be used as a w*apon.[We see Clarence, shackled to a cot in a cell full of office supplies.] Open her up! For your visit, we’ve got him cuffed and shackled.


House: And yet, you’re staying out there.


Warden: [nodding, then grabbing House’s cane] Uhp! You’re going to have to give me that. Wouldn’t want anybody to get hurt.


[Cut to the clinic, where a woman is sitting in an exam room.]


Cameron: [entering] Hi.


Cindy: Hi.


Cameron: I’m Dr. Cameron. How’re you feeling?


Cindy: Eh. Little cough, no big deal.


Cameron: Okay, then. What’re you doing here?


Cindy: I just got a job at the university. They need a health clearance. Apparently I’m a little anemic, so they made me get some more tests.


Cameron: Any family history of anemia?


Cindy: Not that I know of. My mom d*ed of cancer when I was a kid, my dad’s heart gave out a couple of years ago.


Cameron: Brothers and sisters?


Cindy: I’m afraid it’s a short family history. That’s it. I had a husband once, but… didn't stick. My tests should be back, probably in that file.


Cameron: Probably. [She looks at the lung x-ray, and then looks concerned.]


Cindy: Is everything okay?


[Cut to Dr. Wilson, looking at the x-ray in his office.]


Wilson: Did you redo the x-ray?


Cameron: Twice.


Wilson: Well, you don’t need a consult. You know the diagnosis.


Cameron: All she has is a cough.


[Cut to House, examining Clarence. He shines a light in his eyes, and then looks at his hands.]


House: Bluish tinge to the fingernails, lips… he’s hypoxic.


Warden: What’s that mean?


House: He’s not getting enough oxygen. You know how people can you can’t live without love? Well, oxygen's even more important. He’s got fluid in his lungs, breathing rate of 50… he needs to be intubated and put on a respirator.


Warden: Don’t have a respirator.


House: Better get one in about an hour, or you’re gonna lose him.


Warden: I’ll make out a requisition. The state’s already sentenced this man to die.


House: [flipping open his cell phone] I think the state was a tad more specific about "how". [on the phone] This is Dr. Gregory House. I need an ambulance to pick-up at Mercer State Prison.


Warden: Wasted call, my men will stop them at the gate. No way a Death Row inmate leaves my prison, least not through the front doors.


[Cut to House, walking out of the hospital elevator with Clarence tied to a gurney, paramedics, and a lot of guards.]


House: You work fast.


Stacy: So do you.


House: Is that a shock?


Stacy: Yeah. It was easy once I convinced the clerk to take it to Judge Markem, he’s a sucker for Eight Amendment arguments.


House: Stop, I’m getting turned on.


Cuddy: House!


House: [in his best Scooby-Doo imitation] Ruh-roh!


Cuddy: It was just a consult? Did you expect us to shut down an entire floor for this guy?


House: Did you do something to your hair?


Stacy: You said you cleared it with her –


House: Come on. You’ve known me how long and you still don’t know when I’m joshin’ ya?


Cuddy: Take him back to prison. Now.


House: Can’t. Ironically, I’m bound by this court order which your ace attorney got. I have to make him all better before shipping him back for the state to k*ll him. Is it just me, or is that weird? Anyway, we’re walking.


[Cut to Cameron entering House’s office. House is staring at a file in his hand.]


House: Somebody left this on my chair. Clever - forces me to either deal with the file or never sit down again.


Cameron: Cindy Kramer. I told her you’d see her.


House: You shouldn’t have told her that. She’s got metastatic squamous cell lung cancer, six months, tops.


Cameron: Have you even looked at the x-ray?


House: No, just guessing. It’s a new game. If it’s wrong, she gets a stuffed bear.


Cameron: A spot on a x-ray doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s terminal.


House: I love children. So filled with hope.


Cameron: It could be pneumonia. It could be sarcoidosis.


House: Could be, if she didn’t already have swollen hilar lymph nodes on the other lung.


Cameron: Could we at least brainstorm for other ideas? [He takes the x-ray and puts it up on the light board.] Thank you.[He begins to write on the board.] I still think it could be pneumonia and sarcoidosis, but we should check for tuberculosis and definitely rule out congestive heart failure. [She looks to see that House has written "denial, anger, bargaining, depression,acceptance" on the board.] The five stages of dying.


House: Exactly. Personally, I think it’s all just new-age crap, but from your tear-filled, puppy-dog eyes I think I've made my point. Now go tell Cindy whatever-her-name-is that she’s dying. [He walks into Diagnostics, where Chase and Foreman are sitting.] Tachycardia, pulmonary edema, likely suspects?


Cameron: [following him in] The Death Row guy? That’s who you’re working on instead of Cindy?


House: God, I’ve got to learn not to b*at around the bush. By dying, I mean no matter what we do. Very, very soon she is going to be dead. Is it still too subtle?


Cameron: I took an oath to do no harm.


House: Yeah, well, it’s not like they make you sign it or anything.


Cameron: We cure your patient, he goes back to Death Row. He goes back to Death Row, they k*ll him!


House: He stays here and we don’t treat him, he dies. And I still don’t treat Cindylou Who.


Foreman: Can we get on with this?


House: Yeah, I knew I could count on your help for your homie.


Foreman: [sarcastically] Exactly, I’m black. I sympathize for guys who grew up in the city kept down by the man. [Chase smirks.]


House: Makes sense to me.


Foreman: It’s a bunch of crap. You can’t blame society for the fact that you chose to become a k*ller. The guy's probably a heroin addict, which explains the tachycardia, which caused the pulmonary edema.


Chase: How does an inmate on Death Row get his hands on heroin?


Foreman: Are you serious?


House: The man knows prisons. When we’ve got a yachting question, we’ll come to you. Okay, dr*gs it is. Test his hair, blood, and urine, the works. [Chase and Foreman get up, Cameron still has her angry face on. House makes an "after you" motion with his hand.]


[Cut to the hallway.]


Cameron: Thanks for getting my back. I thought you seminary boys were against the death penalty.


Chase: I left the seminary.


Cameron: Over their stance on capital punishment?


Chase: I’m against the death penalty in principle. In practice, however, watching a m*rder*r die causes me a lot less grief than annoying my boss. [The three are stopped by guards who pat them down before they can go to see Clarence.]


[Cut to Clarence’s room, where the three are getting samples.]


Cameron: Department of Justice statistics show that it’s a racially motivated form of punishment. Black defendants are ten times more likely to get a death sentence than whites.


Foreman: Doesn’t mean we need to get rid of the death penalty, do we? It just means we need to k*ll more white people. [Clarence wakes up with a start.] It’s okay, you’re in a hospital, we’re taking care of you. [He starts to move around violently.] Chase Stay calm, you’re gonna be – push two milligrams Ativan! [Clarence pulls the safety rails off of the bed, causing the guards to come in and force him down, but not before he pulls the intubation tube out of his throat (yuk!).]


Clarence: Water… water.


[Cut to Diagnostics, where House is pouring himself a big red mug of coffee. Enter the Ducklings.]


House: What’s the differential for being thirsty?


Chase: He was just a little dehydrated, and out of his mind. We upped his saline drip, he’s fine now.


Foreman: Blood and urine tests came back clean, no sign of opiates in his system. [Cameron grabs a marker and is about to write on the board, when… ]


House: Don’t do that.


Cameron: What, you have some House theory explaining heroin use despite a negative test?


House: Nope. Only I get to write on the board. [I’ll just take this moment to say that I love that the board is titled"Dead Man Dying". All right, go on.] So it’s not dr*gs. What else can cause the heart to do wind sprints? Got the blood work back, any – [Stacy walks into his office and looks at him through the wall] – thing out of the ordinary?


Chase: His bicarb is low.


House: Yeah, but which column? Could be the result of the tachycardia, could be the cause?


Cameron: It’s the cause.


House: Why, because you want it to be? Let’s see how well that works with your other patient.


Cameron: We’re just talking semantics here. We should put him on a bicarb drip and send him back.


House: Right, buff his numbers. Don’t bother trying to figure out the underlying cause. I thought you cared about patients.


Foreman: Our job isn’t to make sure he can bounce his grandkids on his lap, our job is to get him healthy enough to go back to Death Row.




House: Our job is to diagnose him. [closing the blinds so he can’t see Stacy] What? Mommy and Daddy are having a little fight, it doesn’t mean we’ve stopped loving you. Now, go outside and play. Get Daddy some smokes and anarterial blood gas test. [They all exit. As House leaves, he nearly runs into Stacy, who does not look amused.] Wow! That was impressive. Okay, what number am I thinking of?


Stacy: Were you trying to get me fired? If you didn’t want me working here, why didn’t you just say so?


House: I just don’t want you working here, in my office. But anywhere else in the building is fine. It’s a big hospital.


Stacy: I’m a lawyer. You’re a jerk. There’s gonna to be some overlap.


House: God, I hope that was a euphemism.


Stacy: Cuddy just reamed me.


House: I hope that one means what I think it means.


Stacy: For trusting you! She figured when she hired me she’d at least have someone you couldn’t walk all over.


House: The number was six, by the way.


Stacy: I need to know, can I trust you?


House: If I hadn’t lied to you about Cuddy’s approval, my patient would be dead.


Stacy: Great. Now I know. Now we can work together.


[Cut to Foreman, preparing to draw some blood from Clarence’s thigh.]


Foreman: I’m drawing some blood from your femoral artery.


Clarence: From my what?


Foreman: Runs through your groin.


Clarence: You think you’re gonna stick me in the jewels with that?


Foreman: It’s really closer to your thigh. Technically, at this point, it seems like your jewels are more for display purposes, anyway.


Clarence: Hold up, hold up. Give me some pain K*llers, or something.


Foreman: Tough guy like you don’t need ‘em.


Clarence: Forget that, numb me up, man. [Foreman gets the painkillers, and starts to inject it. As he does, Clarence notices a tattoo on his wrist.] You got some g*ng ink? Let me see that.


Foreman: It’s a Native American symbol. It means "the force of life."


Clarence: That’s what you tell all these white dudes so they let you play doctor?


Foreman: Yep. Got ‘em all fooled.


Clarence: For real, how a brother like you go from g*ng-banger to wearing a white coat?


Foreman: How’s a brother like you go from loving a woman to punching her skull in?


Clarence: Bitch stepped out. [Foreman stabs him with the needle.] Argh! [Foreman raises an eyebrow.]


Foreman: Sorry about that. Guess I didn’t use enough lidocaine.


[Cut to the team entering Diagnostics.]


Foreman: Blood gas came back with a pH of 7.28 and decreased HCO3.


House: Which means two things. Most importantly, Cameron was wrong about the bicarb, and less significantly, we have anew symptom. Anion gap acidosis. Who’s chubby? Come on, pretend he loves puppies. Pretend he’s a human being. What’ve you got?


Foreman: I think we should reconsider dr*gs.


Chase: He already tested negative.


Foreman: That’s why I said reconsider. Back in juvie, I cut up oregano and sold it
as pot.


Chase: Is that how you put yourself through med school?


Foreman: What if Clarence thought he was taking heroin, but it was something else?


House: What "something else" could lead to anion gap acidosis?


Chase: Mudpiles.


House: Well, you don’t have to ask. Just wash your hands before you come back.


Chase: Methanol, uremia, diabetes…


House: Oh, it’s a mnemonic. That makes sense, too.


Cameron: Paraldehyde, INH, lactic acid –


House: Rewind.


Cameron: INH?


House: Yahtzee!


Foreman: dr*gs for tuberculosis.


Chase: Nearly a quarter of the prison population is infected with TB.


House: Clever entrepreneur like Foreman here, chops up his meds, passes it off as heroin.


Cameron: INH poisoning would explain all the symptoms.


House: Who wants to head over to the prison and find Clarence’s secret stash? [No one looks too thrilled.]


Foreman: Fine, I’ll do it.


House: Great, Chase it is.


Chase: I assume you have a reason beyond wanting to make me completely miserable?


House: You’ve got a prettier mouth. Better chance the inmates will open up to you.


[Cut to… General Hospital lookalike! Oh boy!]


Guy with bandages all around his face: Perhaps I’ll come out looking just as monstrous? I mean, isn’t that what I deserve? [House is watching the program in a hospital room, eating lunch, next to a patient who looks very inert. Enter Wilson.]


Wilson: The man’s in a coma.


House: He didn’t mind. I asked.


Wilson: You’re getting crumbs all over him.


House: Why do you think they put TVs in coma patients’ rooms, anyway?


Wilson: Some people think they can still hear.


House: So leave them a radio. His eyes are closed; who thinks he can see? [Wilson sits on the opposite side of the bed.]


Wilson: You know why people are nice to other people?


House: Oh, I know this one. Because people are good, decent and caring. Either that, or people are cowards. If I’m mean to you, you’ll be mean to me. Mutually assured destruction.


Wilson: Exactly. You’re gonna eat these chips? [He reaches for them, but House
grabs them away.]


House: You gonna get to your point?


Wilson: You need people to like you.


House: I don’t care if people like me.


Wilson: …Yes. But you need people to like you because you need people. Unless you think you can get the next court order yourself. If Stacy can’t trust you, you can’t use her. [House offers the chip bag.] And that’s not even dealing with the greater agenda – [House takes the bag back before Wilson can have any] of getting her to dump her husband and fall in love with you all over again.


House: I know you’re friends with her, but there is a code. Bros before hos, man. [He sticks his fist out, but his pager beeps. After looking at it -- ] Crap.


Wilson: What is it?


House: Death Row guy is dying.


[Cut to Clarence’s room, where he is looking quite inert. There are beeps coming from all over, but Foreman is just standing in the corner.]


Foreman: Bradycardia. His heart rate’s dropped to 30, it’s not going to hold that
much longer.


House: Are you just waiting to call time of death, or are you gonna give him
atropine?


Foreman: Temporary fix?


House: Right. Anyway, those diabetics are all hung up on insulin. They’re just gonna have to have to take more. [He starts to push the Atropine into the IV.]


Foreman: Atropine’s only gonna buy you a few hours! We don’t even know what’s wrong with this guy –


House: Just get out of here. [Foreman leaves as Clarence’s heart rate starts to climb.]


[Cut to Chase looking through the storage cell where Clarence was being held when he was sick. His cell rings.]


Chase: [on cell] This is Chase.


House: [from the hospital desk near Diagnostics] Did you b*at any confessions out of anybody?


Chase: I haven’t spoken to any inmates.


House: Does anybody do their jobs anymore?


Chase: I’ve decided Clarence’s life isn’t worth risking mine for.


House: I appreciate your candor. Did you even go to the prison or are you just out playing polo?


Chase: I’m searching both Clarence’s cells. I figure, if he’s on something, it’s stashed somewhere.


House: Unless he finished it.


Chase: Yeah, that’d be a shame. He could have shoved it anywhere, there’s envelopes stacked to the ceiling,bottles of copier toner, boxes of rubber bands [he goes on, but House has heard enough]


House: Call it off. Come on back.


[Cut to House, entering Clarence’s room with a wheeled tray. He closes the blinds, takes out two sample jars -- ]


Clarence: What’s going on?


House: You’re dying. [ -- and takes out a bottle of rum and pours two sh*ts’ worth.] That deserves a last drink.


Clarence: You’re okay.


House: Thanks. That means a lot. [He helps Clarence to drink his sh*t.]


[Cut to Cameron, taking blood from Cindy.]


Cindy: All the tests have been inconclusive?


Cameron: Diagnostics is more of an art than a science.


Cindy: Should I be worried right now?


Cameron: I work for one of the top diagnosticians in the country. We’re pouring all of our energy into figuring this out.


[Cut to House and Clarence, and an emptier bottle pouring more sh*ts. A much emptier bottle.]


House: [slurred slightly] Thought you convicts knew how to drink. You’re at least three sh*ts behind. [He looks as if he’s going to offer a sh*t to Clarence, but drinks it himself.] Now you’re four sh*ts behind.


Clarence: You better give me the next one or I’ll k*ll you. [Pause, then they both laugh. Cameron enters quickly.]


Cameron: House – [She stops short as she sees House laughing and pouring sh*ts.] I was just waiting for test results,I was…


House: Little busy right now. Getting my drink on.


Cameron: Unbelievable.


Clarence: Oof. That’s the finest piece I seen in ten years.


House: I coulda hit that.


Clarence: And you didn’t.


House: Eh.


Clarence: Then you’re the one that should be locked up.


House: Tell me something, I’ve been trying to figure this out. Why does a guy – [He gives Clarence another sh*t] – who’s on Death Row suddenly try to off himself?
I know you drank that copier fluid. It’s not as visually dramatic as slitting your wrists with a homemade shiv, but it’ll do the trick.


Clarence: It just hit me all of a sudden. It was like, they tell me when to eat, when to sleep, when to walk, when to talk,everything. I had to take control of something, right? When to die, I figured that was as good as anything.


House: [pouring more rum] And that thought just came to you. Just like that.


Clarence: Man, I told you. Twenty-three hours a – [House forces another sh*t down his throat.]


House: Mmm. Well, look. Here’s the good news. The copier fluid you drank contains about 90% methanol, which is very poisonous and you took more than enough to k*ll yourself. The bad news is the alcohol you drank contains so much ethanol that it’s gonna bind with that nasty formic acid raging through your body, and you’re just gonna pee it out. Harmlessly.


Clarence: Man, you are drunk.


House: Yes, I am. I also saved your life. [And, sh*t for House! Laughing] At least for now.


[Cut to House entering the hospital, wearing sunglasses.]


Stacy: Morning! [House winces at the sound.] Your head hurt?

House: No, you just have a very grating voice.


Stacy: You always were a lightweight.


House: Why are you talking to me?


Stacy: Can’t it be enough that I want to cause you pain? The patient’s okay now, you’re going to send him back?


House: Absolutely. [He walks into the elevator. Oh elevator, I’ve missed you! The door of the elevator almost closes,but House stops it with his cane, and it opens again.] Can I trust you?


Stacy: You used to.


House: I still think the patient’s sick. I’m keeping him here. Now, either you can do your job and keep the hospital informed, or you can help me make sure the hospital is not informed and buy me some time. [The door closes.]


[Cut to Cameron, writing Cindy’s symptoms on a corner of the white board.]


Chase: Have you done a CT?


Cameron: Yeah, I have?


Foreman: Does it have contrast?


House: [entering] She’s done everything she needs to do except tell her patient that she’s dying. I told you,only I get to play with the markers. [He erases what she wrote.] Our prisoner has a new symptom.


Cameron: I’m not telling Cindy that she’s dying until the diagnosis is confirmed.


House: I am not buying that CLARENCE is trying to take control of his life by su1c1de. Healthy people don’t k*ll themselves.


Foreman: Healthy people don’t k*ll other people.


House: Guy just filed an appeal in a state that hasn’t actually k*lled anybody in about 30 years.


Chase: What if it wasn’t su1c1de? What if it was an escape plan? Drink enough methanol to get transferred to a hospital,try to escape from here?


House: Excellent. Explains everything, except the symptom that got him here. His heart went nuts before he got stuck in that storage cell and chugged a toner martini. I think there’s something going on in his head. Check for intracranial lesions, brain infections, autoimmune diseases… do a CT, LP, full workup. State’s paying, so go nuts. [They all leave, Cameron in a huff.]


[Cut to Foreman, who’s always the lucky one who gets to do a spinal tap. He’s looking at Clarence’s back,which has a number of scars in addition to the prison tats.]


Foreman: Where’d you get these scars?


Clarence: I got shivved my first month in. After I healed up I got my ass. You guys still think I’m sick?


Foreman: [prepping a needle] Obviously.


Clarence: Why you care? Why don’t you just let me die?


Foreman: I’m different than you.


Clarence: Right, you love me like your own mama. That’s why the nurse says you kicked her out when my heart nearly stopped.


Foreman: Take a deep breath. [He sticks Clarence in the spine with the needle.] Any family history of mental illness?


Clarence: I always heard my pa was crazy; I never met the man with my mom, it was the dr*gs.


Foreman: Any siblings?


Clarence: Got a brother, pretty much raised him on my own.


Foreman: Inspirational story. He doin’ time, too?


Clarence: Hey. He’s a good kid. Don’t go judgin’ what you don’t know.


Foreman: How’s his health?


Clarence: I haven’t heard from him since I went inside. Spent 16 years with him, changed his damn diapers. Can you imagine your whole life bein’ about the worst thing you ever did?


Foreman: You k*lled four people. Somehow, making mac and cheese just the way he wants kind of loses its significance.


[Cut to House entering his office. Cameron is sitting at his desk.]


House: Oh no. Now you’ve left your entire body in my chair. What does that mean you want?


Cameron: I need a segmental bronchoalveolar lavage.


House: I take it the CT with contrast came back.


Cameron: They’re not definitive.


House: Biopsy would be.


Cameron: Biopsy would be invasive and unnecessary.


House: And definitive. But you don’t want definitive, you want to hang on to your delusions as long as you can.


Cameron: A lavage could prove it’s not cancer.


House: But you need me to approve the procedure. Must be a bitch. The answer is no.


Cameron: Why? Because it’s me? I’m over you. I’ve jumped on the bandwagon. I hate you, okay?


House: Great. Let’s treat her.


Cameron: What is it? You won’t help Cindy but you’re obsessed with this piece of dirt! Are you just trying to prove that who someone is doesn’t matter, that all that matters is your stupid puzzle? Fine. Treat them the same. That’s all I’m asking. One test.


House: Wow, that is remarkable. According to those patchouli-oil selling new-agers, it’s supposed to be the terminal patient, but you’re going through the five stages. You just made a completely seamless transition from anger to bargaining. Cover two more of my clinic hours, you can have your one procedure. [Cameron nods and leaves.]


[Cut to Chase and Foreman scanning Clarence’s brain.]


Chase: No lesions, no aneurysms. Ironically, the mind of a k*ller looks completely normal.


Foreman: If someone asks you to describe me to them, what’s the first thing you’d tell them?


Chase: Insecure. What are you asking?


Foreman: Like, if you were setting me up on a blind date. Would you describe me to the girl as the black guy, a neurologist,car thief?


Chase: This guy’s really getting to you, isn’t he?


[Cut to Cameron, performing the procedure on Cindy. Wonderful CGI sh*t up Cindy’s nose.]


[Cut to Cameron looking at the test results with Wilson.]


Cameron: There’s no sign of infection.


Wilson: You’re gonna have to do the biopsy.


[Cut to Cuddy yelling at House in his office.]


Cuddy: Your Death Row guy’s still here!


House: Yeah, sorry. Just gotta get him stabilized. Probably keep him on fluids for a few more hours, then off he goes.


Cuddy: Oh yeah? ‘Cause I’m figuring that you still think he’s sick.


House: Figuring requires deductive reasoning. I’m figuring that you did no figuring. Stacy just ratted me out, right?So much for attorney-client privilege.


Cuddy: I’m the client, you moron. Stacy has a duty to this hospital.


House: Right.


Cuddy: I’m sending him back to prison.


House: Whoa, can’t. Court order.


Cuddy: Court order says he has to be declared healthy. Doesn’t specify what doctor needs to make that declaration. [Cuddy leaves, and House goes to follow.]


[Cut to Clarence screaming his head off.]


Cuddy: [bored] What is it, Clarence?


Clarence: My gut!


Cuddy: Would you describe it as a sh**ting pain? A throbbing pain? Or maybe an imaginary pain because you don’t want to go back to prison?


House: Where does it hurt?


Clarence: My gut, I feel like I’m getting stabbed! [Screams again.]


House: Well, he’d know. Let me take a look.


Cuddy: Oh, so everybody lies except a convicted m*rder*r. [CGI sh*t of some nasty stuff in Clarence’s bowels. Ew. House removes the covers to reveal blood flowing out of Clarence’s nether regions. More ew.]


House: I don’t think he’s faking this stuff. What do you think, Doctor? [Clarence
screams a lot more for emphasis.]


[Cut to House looking at Clarence’s prison records in his office. Stacy enters.]


Stacy: I didn’t have any choice.


House: No, you had to tell Cuddy. She’s your boss, I get it. h*tler thought he was doing the world a favor, too.


Stacy: Yeah, pretty much on that same level.


House: Gandhi didn’t march the sea because his buddies asked him too, Pol Pot didn’t wipe out the teachers because he wanted to make friends.


Stacy: You’re not making friends right now.


House: I trusted you.


Stacy: I know.


House: Wilson’s a fool. I’m an idiot.


Stacy: I had to do what I thought was right.


House: It’s the only reason anyone does anything.


[Cut to Diagnostics.]


Foreman: The surgery went fine. They removed almost a foot of necrotic bowel. They’re shackling him and taking him to recovery.


House: I wonder. I wonder why Clarence k*lled that second inmate.


Foreman: Fine, I’ll bite. What the hell are you talking about?


House: Everything we do is dictated by motive. [As he erases the white board] Why did he k*ll his girlfriend?


Foreman: Because he’s a maniac!


House: Is that the reason he gave?


Foreman: She was cheating on him.


House: Jealousy. [He writes it on the board.] That gets him sent to prison, where he kills inmate number one. Why?


Foreman: Guy att*cked him first.


House: Revenge. Who’d he k*lled after that?


Chase: Prison guard.


House: Got a file full of abuse complaints. Probably been kicking Clarence’s ass for months.


Foreman: Clarence is just ridding the world of bad seeds.


House: Call that one "retribution". Then he kills inmate number two. Anybody know why? [Chase looks through the file.]Nuh-uh. It’s not in there. [He draws a giant question mark.]


[Cut to Clarence.]


Clarence: All of a sudden I got to have a reason?


House: It’s an anomaly. Doctors love anomalies. Dark spot on an x-ray, bright spot on an MRI…. k*lling that second inmate is the homicidal equivalent of blood in the urine. It doesn’t fit. I’m interested in things that don’t fit. Tell me why you did it. Your other victims you were almost bragging about. What was different about this guy?


Clarence: It happened when I was in gen-pop. I was in the library, just readin’, and I started feelin’ real nervous. This guy was staring at me. I could feel his eyes digging holes in the back of my neck, made me feel crazy. Sweat was pouring down my face. I could hear my heartbeat racing in my ears. I just raged out on the dude.


[Cut to House, Foreman and Chase walking to the elevator.]


House: So what’s the differential for raging out?


Foreman: Excess testosterone, steroids –


Chase: Adrenaline –


House: Prep Clarence for surgery.


Foreman: Care to share with the class?


House: Oh, come on. Do I have to spell it out for you? Pheochromocytoma. Actually, I’m not sure how you spell it. [Ed. – But I do!] But you said it yourself, adrenaline. Pheochomocytoma sits on top of the adrenal gland, randomly spits out oodles of the stuff. It’s perfect, it explains everything. The tachycardia, pulmonary edema, the vasoconstriction that caused the necrotic bowel –


Chase: Even explains how he had the strength to rip the rail off his bed. [House enters the elevator.]


Foreman: But pheo’s extremely rare.


House: I love rare. Set up an MRI. Where’s Cameron? [They shrug.] Like I don’t know.


[Cut to Wilson, walking toward Cindy’s room. Cameron is in Cindy’s room, talking and laughing with her. Wilson knocks on the glass.]


Wilson: Dr. Cameron? Could I borrow you for a consult? [She goes outside.]
Bittersweet thing about being head of the oncology department, I get CC’ed on all the biopsy results.


Cameron: Yeah, I know. She’s terminal.


Wilson: Yeah. So I take it you were in there informing her?


Cameron: Well, I… I hadn’t exactly gotten around to that, but I was just –


Wilson: Doing what? Making friends?


Cameron: Cindy’s divorced. She doesn’t have any kids, no siblings, both her parents are gone –


Wilson: It’s not your job to be her friend. Do you understand? And it’s not worth it. She feels better her few final days, and you’re not the same, maybe for years.


Cameron: You don’t think it’s worth it.


Wilson: I know it’s not worth it.


Cameron: My husband w – [She stops, looks at Cindy, and turns back.] I met him just after he was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. If I hadn’t married him, he was alone. When a good person dies, there should be an impact on the world. Somebody should notice. Somebody should be upset. [She goes back in.]


[Cut to Clarence.]


Clarence: Pheo-what?


House: I don’t even remember. It’s just a fancy way of saying small, adrenaline-secreting tumor. Yeah, that clarified it for you. All you need to know is if I’m right, we can fix it. Just need to find it. We need an MRI. It’s completely painless for most people.


Clarence: But not for me?


House: I assume you got those tattoos in prison. Prison tats often contain inks with heavy metals. The MRI’s basically a giant magnet. It’d suck those metallic inks right out of your skin.


[Cut to Clarence being put into the MRI. He looks very anxious. The scan starts, and then we hear screaming, and see him writhing around.]


House: Stop squirming. Don’t make us do this again. Big baby.


Chase: Still don’t see anything.


Clarence: Turn it off!


House: There’s Waldo. Found it, Clarence.


Clarence: Turn it off! Turn this damn thing off!


House: Keep him in there until you guys see it too. [He leaves.]


Foreman: Son of a bitch.


[Cut to Foreman entering House’s office at night.]


Foreman: Looks like they got the pheo out successfully. So what now?


House: Clarence goes back to Death Row.


Foreman: Just like that?


House: He’s cured.


Foreman: That tumor caused random sh*ts of adrenaline, which obviously led to the rage att*cks that made him a m*rder*r in the first place.


House: By God, you’re right! Let’s call the surgeons, we’ve got to save that tumor. Put it on the witness stand.


Foreman: We could testify at Clarence’s appeal.


House: [sniffs] You smell that? I think that is the stink of hypocrisy. You wouldn’t even consider the notion that Clarence’s social upbringing was responsible for what he became, but now you’re sprinting to the witness stand to blame everything on a little tumor.


Foreman: A person’s upbringing and their biology are completely different.


House: Yeah. See, you only overcame one of them. Well, let’s just give Clarence a free pass, hmmm? Course, you’re probably going to piss off all those other pheo sufferers who managed to control their rage att*cks and become lawyers, race car doctors, and even doctors. Removing that tumor puts a stop to those random sh*ts adrenaline, but it doesn’t absolve him.


Foreman: You want him to be ex*cuted?


House: That’s not what I’m saying.


Foreman: Got an opinion?


House: Everyone’s got an opinion. [Foreman turns to leave as "Hallelujah", the most overused great song in media begins to play.]


Foreman: I, uh, I think I’m gonna testify at Clarence’s appeal.


House: You’ll do what you think is right. On your own time. [He leaves.]


[Cut to Cameron finally telling Cindy that she’s dying.]


Cindy: But it’s just a cough. [Cameron tries not to cry, and gives Cindy a hug.]


[Let’s continue with the closing montage. Clarence is led out the hospital, flanked by numerous guards. Foreman watches him leave. House is sitting at his desk, watching his now-almost-empty bottle of rum. He pours some into a coffee mug (awesome!)and looks at the five steps written on his light board. He erases them all but "acceptance", and then that one goes too.]