08x08 - Perils of Paranoia

[bunniefuu]

-- Courtroom. Mike is on the witness stand. Tommy, the prosecutor, is cross-examining him. William, the defense attorney, sits at a table with his client. --

Tommy: And you're sure he didn't leave until after 9:00?

Mike: Absolutely. We watched the Devils demolish the Rangers. The game started at 7:00.

Tommy: Neither of you stepped out between periods, get beer, pick up a pizza?

Mike: We stayed at my place. We were together the whole time.

Tommy: And you said the Devils won?

Mike: Yup. 4-zip. Kovalchuk had two, Arnott and Parise each had one, and Marty got the shutout.

Tommy: I'm sorry. Marty?

Mike: Martin Brodeur. Devils' starting goalie for, like, the past 20 years. He played awesome as usual.

Tommy: Your Honor, may I submit the sports page from the New Jersey Chronicle on October 9th, 2011.

William: Objection. Relevance.

Tommy: Goes to the witness's credibility.

Judge Foley: Go quickly.

Tommy: Would you please read the caption under the photo? (Hands him the newspaper)

Mike: [Clears throat] "Martin Brodeur stops 1 of his 36 saves on the way to a shutout victory." That's what I just said.

Tommy: That the defendant couldn't have possibly committed the robbery because he was with you watching Martin Brodeur shut out the Rangers.

Mike: Yes. (Hands him back the newspaper)

Tommy: Thank you. Your Honor, may I submit the Chronicle sports page from October 10th?

William: Your Honor…

Judge Foley: This is what you call going quickly?

Tommy: Just two more questions. I promise.

(The judge gives him a look, but agrees)

Tommy: Please read (gives him another newspaper) the highlighted text at the bottom of the page.

Mike: "In Sunday's sports section, New Jersey Devils goaltender Johan Hedberg was…"

Tommy: That's it. Keep going.

Mike: "Misidentified as Martin Brodeur in a photo caption and box score."

Tommy: (showing the newspaper to the jury) An understandable mistake. Given that Martin Brodeur was scheduled to start but bowed out after taking a sh*t to the throat in warm-up. Which brings me to my most relevant question. Did you and the defendant spend the evening of October 8th watching the Devils game on TV, or did you just read about the game in the Chronicle while concocting this false alibi?

Mike: [Clears throat] Um… I… I, um…

Tommy: Excuse me, Your Honor, may I approach?

Judge Foley: You sure you don't want to wait till after he answers your question?

Tommy: No. I'm gonna need a continuance.

Judge Foley: (almost whispering) Now? You're one answer away from destroying their whole defense.

William: Come on.

Judge Foley: Oh, shut up. You know it's true. Let's finish this up.

Tommy: I can't.

Judge Foley: Why the hell not?

Tommy: Because I think I'm having a heart att*ck.

Judge Foley: Great. Call an ambulance.

(Tommy sits on the floor, and starts untying his tie, breathing rapidly.)




[H]OUSE m.d.




(Foreman is reading the patient’s file on the table in his office. House is sitting in a chair, listening and preparing a snack, spreading jelly on bread.)

Foreman: Thinks he had a heart att*ck but didn't. His EKG, cardiac enzymes, and catheterization are all normal.

House: 'Cause it's an anxiety att*ck. Probably because he just turned 40 and still goes by the name "Tommy". (Takes a bite)

Foreman: It's not anxiety. The E.R. Docs interviewed his wife. She confirmed he's been feeling fine. Nothing out of the ordinary at work or at home.

House: Probably also believes that he thinks Salma Hayek's breasts are too big.

Foreman: Which is why I had them admit him anyway and treat with alprazolam. No improvements.

House: Because…

Foreman: Because for some patients the diagnosis of anxiety disorder can actually increase anxiety, which is also why I told him he had a minor respiratory infection that was easily curable by the medication. (House gives him an incredulous smile)

House: You lied?

Foreman: I ruled out heart att*ck and anxiety disorder.

House: Interesting.

Foreman: I know. (Hands House the file)

-- Cut to: Diagnostics. The team is reading the patient’s file at the table, while House prepares espresso in the espresso machine. --

Taub: Impressive.

House: What, the wiliness with which Foreman ruled out anxiety or his complete wiliness-less-ness before he met me?

Taub: The fact that you managed to smear jelly on nearly every page.

Park: Shingles could cause chest pain before a rash appeared.

House: (watching the coffee falling on his cup) Pain would be restricted to one dermatome. It wouldn't cross them.

Taub: Asthma-induced pneumothorax would and might not show up on a posteroanterior X-ray.

House: No history of asthma.

Chase: (looking at the patient’s X ray) They did a lateral view as well. No sign of a pneumothorax or deep sulcus sign.

Adams: I treated an inmate once with similar symptoms after he tried to poison his cellmate with chlorine gas.

Taub: He didn't realize sharing a cell also meant sharing the air?

Adams: Chlorine gas pools near the ground he thought he'd be safe in the top bunk.

Park: Well, why would anyone try to poison our guy?

Taub: He makes a living sending people to prison.

Chase: But he's not in prison, and it's kind of hard to gas a guy unless you can seal him in a room first.

House: (Sitting down) Which is why Arceus created a universe with 3 states of matter and 300 solid or liquid poisons that could cause his symptoms.

Taub: Arceus?

House: Look it up. And alkalinize his urine. Go search his home, talk to his wife, see if you can get her to tell us what she used.

Adams: Wait, why would you think his wife poisoned him?

House: Because dangerous people don't break into your home, they live in it. And although his kids are old enough to want daddy dead, they're still to young to do anything about it.

Taub: Must be such a pleasure to live in your head.

House: You're right. Kids might be precocious. (Pointing Adams) You handle his house. (Pointing Chase) You handle him and his wife.

Chase: They (Taub and Park) get to just hang out and do nothing?

House: If you need help, you can take whoever you want.

Chase and Adams: I'll take Taub.

House: Interesting.

Adams: No, it's not. It was a 50/50 choice. I'm totally fine with Taub or Park.

Chase: (Standing up) Cool. I'll take Taub.

Adams: And I'll take Park.

House: That was fun.

Park: Not really.

-- Cut to: PPTH Elevator. [Elevator dings. Chase and Taub enter the elevator, where Foreman is looking at some papers] --

Chase: Nice move, boss. Lying to the patient.

Foreman: I had no choice. I knew House wouldn't take the case unless I ruled out anxiety.

Taub: You need a girlfriend.

Foreman: To keep me from lying to patients?

Taub: To give you the excitement you need so you don't go looking for it. You're not working for House anymore, which means you no longer have him to blame if you get caught.

Foreman: I'm not looking for excitement. I'm doing my job, part of which is to make sure House does his.

Chase: Girlfriend might not be so bad.

Taub: It's less dangerous than where you're headed. And that's from a guy with one alimony and two child support payments. (Chase and Taub exit the elevator)

-- Cut to: Adams' van, on their way to Tommy’s (the patient) house. --

Adams: It's this new curve control thing. It automatically slows the car when it senses I'm taking a curve too fast.

Park: You really think I care about your car? Or are you just trying to avoid talking about why you don't like working with me?

Adams: There's nothing to talk about. House liked poking ant hills with a stick when he was a kid, and now he wants to do the same with us.

Park: House is an ass, but he's an intuitive ass. He obviously noticed something.

Adams: Yeah, the fact that we work well together. He thrives on conflict and is looking for someone to torment. Don't let it be us.

-- Cut to: Outside Tommy’s room --

Olivia (Tommy’s wife): I don't see how that's possible. Tommy's the most popular guy in his office. He's even had defendants thank him after they were sentenced.

Taub: Why would they thank him?

Olivia: Because he doesn't treat them like scum. He makes them feel like he's helping by offering a plea or even just by letting them pay their debt and clear their conscience. And even if someone wanted to poison him, I don't see how they would do it. He never eats or drinks anything that we haven't made at home.

Taub: Wait. You mean literally? Like, not even a bottle of water?

Olivia: No.

Taub: So he was obviously afraid of something.

Olivia: Yeah, rats, mice, cockroaches.

-- Cut to: Patient’s room --

Tommy: My first job out of law school was at the health department. If you'd have seen some of the kitchens or the processing plants I have, you'd cook all your own food too.

Chase: Poison wouldn't have to be in food. Have you gotten any strange letters or packages recently?

Tommy: No.

Chase: You also wouldn't have to be at work.

Tommy: We've got two young kids. There's definitely no poisons I could have accidentally been exposed to at home.

Chase: What if it wasn't an accident? How are things between you and your wife?

Tommy: [Laughs] Are you asking me if I think my wife is trying to k*ll me?

Chase: Yes, I am.

Tommy: Absolutely not. This is coming from a man whose eyes are wide open. I have prosecuted hundreds of despicable acts by husbands, wives, parents. I can assure you…

Olivia (talking to Taub, outside Tommy’s room): I love my husband, and I would not ever even for a second consider doing anything to hurt him.

-- Cut to: Tommy’s house. --

Adams: No pesticides, fertilizers, or fuel in the garage. You find anything?

Park (walking down the stairs): No, there's not even a bottle of wite-out in this place.

Adams: Maybe we should look again.

Park: Maybe we should leave before the police get here.

Adams: Well, even if a neighbor saw us break in and called 911, unless they said we were armed, it's low priority. We've got another five minutes.

Park: He's a prosecutor. Obviously he knows a lot of cops. His house is not gonna be low priority.

Adams: Good point. (Starts walking out)

Park: (Looking at the bookcase) Wait. The dining room's on the other side of that wall.

Adams: Yeah, so?

Park: But it ends, like, three feet further over.

Adams: You've got to be kidding me. A second ago, you wanted to run like hell, and now you want to look for secret passages?

Park: There's a magnet on the fridge they use to open child-proofed cabinets. Go get it. Hurry up.

Adams: (handing the magnet) Here.

[Tapping] [Suction]

Park: Holy crap. (They open the secret door behind the bookcase)

-- Cut to: PPTH room. House is sitting in a couch, sleeping, with his face covered by a magazine. --

[Cell phone ringing]

House: (answering his phone) Don't tell me. The jealous wife in the dining room with bipyridyl herbicide.

Park: We didn't find any poisons.

House: Well, you obviously found something.

(Cut to the secret room) Park: Yeah. A hidden bunker with enough g*ns to defend Fort Knox.

Adams: Or break into it.

-- As the camera moves back, we see a very large room with a lot of huge SMG’s leaning against the wall. --

House: Cool.

-- Cut to: Tommy’s room. Adams, Park and Olivia are standing beside Tommy’s bed. --

Olivia: That's impossible. You must have broken into the wrong house.

Adams: Then you have creepy neighbors, because there were photos of you and your kids all over.

Olivia: I-I don't understand. How could this…

Tommy: I had it put in during the remodel last year.

Olivia: But we went over the plans together.

Tommy: It's not in the plans. I didn't want the city to know about it. I'm sorry. I should have told you. I just… I didn't want you and the kids to worry.

Olivia: About what? Tommy, what is it? Why would you think you needed so many g*ns?

-- Cut to: Clinic. House carries a lot of patient’s files. Adams, Taub, Chase and Park walk in. --

Adams: You're not gonna believe this.

House: Imperio absenti chaos regit. He's worried that "too big to fail" applies to our banks but not our government.

Adams: How'd you know?

House: Because that's what every idiot with a bunker full of as*ault r*fles is scared of. (Calling) Heather Sweeney. (Heather Sweeney stands up) Uh, it'll just be a couple of minutes till someone's ready to see you.

Chase: Maybe it's not stupidity. It's a symptom. Cocaine abuse can cause paranoia and chest pain.

Park: This isn't necessarily paranoia. Societies do fall apart. Look what happened with London and the riots.

Chase: There's a difference between an isolated riot and the fall of civilization.

House: April Donaldson. (She raises her hand) Sorry. Misspoke.

Park: Imagine what would happen if there was a t*rror1st att*ck on the food supply or a pandemic where we had to ration antibiotics.

Adams: That's ridiculous.

House: Ouch.

Adams: Oh, shut up. We know what you're trying to do, and it's not gonna work.

Park: (To Adams) It was a little harsh.

Adams: Stop being so…

Park: What? Paranoid?

House: You're gonna look pretty foolish if that was the wrong guess.

Adams: (To Park) I think you're a good person and a fine doctor, but it's ridiculous to think anyone needs an arsenal of as*ault weapons, he's obviously paranoid. What about Fahr's disease?

Park: He's not hallucinating.

Adams: As far as we know. We should do a mental status examination and get a CT of his basal ganglia.

Park: No, we shouldn't. If it's not poison, it's most likely atrial fibrillation brought on by hyperthyroidism or sleep apnea.

House: (Simulating spitting tobacco, and talking in a Southern accent) Looks like we got ourselves a good, ol'-fashioned cat fight.

Adams: No, we don't. We have a reasoned disagreement.

House: Still there's only one way to settle this. Actually there's two, but we don't have enough Jell-O for the first. Mini-mental, CT, and get a hair sample to check for past cocaine use. Check his TSH levels and get a sleep study. (To Taub) Sorry, we got to make it a fair fight, which means you're stuck with her.

Park: He's not "stuck" with me.

Adams: And it's not a fight. (The team walks out)

House: (To a busty lady waiting in the clinic) Uh, excuse me, miss, what is your name?

Lady: Mariel Wilkerson.

House: Huh. You don't look like a Mariel. You're up. (She smiles, and they walk to the clinic room. House shuts the blinds)

-- Cut to: Lab. Taub and Park are running the tests. --

Park: So what do you think — is the patient paranoid or am I?

Taub: I don't think stockpiling weapons is the most reasoned response, but, given what I've seen at Bloomingdale's on Black Friday, I wouldn't say it rises to the level of mental illness.

Park: And me?

Taub: Again, given what I've seen at Bloomingdale's… Don't let House get to you.

Park: It's all of you. I feel like you don't respect me. Chase certainly doesn't try to hide it.

Taub: Chase respects you. He's just more comfortable working with me because he's known me longer. And I'm not just saying that because you own a g*n.

Park: I don't own a g*n. I've thought about it, but I'd probably end up sh**ting someone in my own family, like when my brother tosses his toenail clippings behind the couch. What about you?

Taub: If anarchy breaks out, I plan to do what my ancestors have done throughout the ages — run.

Foreman (walks in): Sounds like a good plan. You got a moment? (Taub and Foreman go outside)

Forman: Stop telling the nurses I'm looking for a girlfriend.

Taub: What makes you—

Foreman: Two lunch offers and a box of cupcakes since this morning.

Taub: So a few people are nice to you, and your first thought is, "Hmm, this seems strange." I haven't even had enough time to eat my own lunch, much less run around trying to recruit nurses for you. So, can I get back to work? (Foreman walks away)

Park: You're lying, aren't you?

Taub: It's for his own good.

-- Cut to: Cafeteria. House and Wilson are getting lunch. --

House: He's not paranoid. He's just stupid.

Wilson: Well, shouldn't you put yourself in that group? You own a g*n.

House: Our patient doesn't own a g*n. He owns an arsenal. And I don't own a g*n.

Wilson: Yes, you do. And you're a felon, so you'll end up back in jail—

House: That is actually not one of the many reasons that I don't own a g*n. Why would I need a g*n? The only thing I own worth protecting a thief would need a crane to get out of my apartment.

Wilson: You don't own anything you need. You own things you want. And you're definitely the type who'd want a g*n. You like anything dangerous — monster trucks, motorcycles, fireworks.

House: Everyone loves fireworks.

Wilson: Watching them, not making them.

House: I'm telling the truth.

Wilson: I stand corrected.

House: If you believe me, then this issue will be resolved with no further action necessary.

Wilson: Absolutely.

House: It's not resolved, is it?

Wilson: Not even close.

-- Cut to: X-ray room. Adams is looking at some x-rays. --

Chase: [Door opens] It's not cocaine. Hair samples were clean.

Adams: It's not looking good for Fahr's either. I'm not seeing any calcifications.

Chase: You sure? They can be pretty hard to detect in people under 50.

Adams: (Pointing) See?

Chase: What?

Adams: We all disagree all the time. It's not just me and Park.

Chase: Nice try, but I'm not getting in the middle.

Adams: So why didn't you want to go with her this morning?

Chase: She's weird.

Adams: She's not weird. She's a good doctor.

Chase: Most good doctors are weird. Look at House.

Adams: Am I weird?

Chase: Yeah, but you're hot, so it's easier to put up with. (She gives him a look) You're completely normal and a pleasure to deal with.

Adams: You're weird.

Chase: In a good way?

Adams: Maybe we should just concentrate on the medicine.

Chase: You own any g*ns?

Adams: That's not medicine.

Chase: But it's related to medicine. Kind of.

Adams: What do you think?

Chase: Yeah, but not for protection. Despite what the media would have us believe, you think we live in a very safe world. You just think they're fun.

Adams: How did you know?

Chase: Working in prison, you learned criminals rarely target random strangers, and you've got more money than you know what to do with, so anything that seems different and fun's worth trying.

Adams: And you?

Chase: Not here in the States. Back home, I keep a few for hunting 'roos.

Adams: You hunt kangaroos? But they're so cute.

Chase: They're also delicious.

Adams: You're screwing with me.

Chase: Totally. There's no calcification. Looks like we're both wrong.

-- Cut to: Test room. --

Park: You don't need to stay. We won't have the results until the morning.

Olivia: It's okay. I'll stay.

Tommy: Go. I'm sure your mother's ready for a break by now, huh? Give the kids a kiss for me.

Olivia: You think it's the end of the world, but you wanted kids.

Tommy: Oh, honey, come on. I don't think the world's coming to an end. Look… (Takes her hand) You have a spare tire in your car, right? That's what those g*ns are. I mean, I hope to God I never have to use one. But if we can wake up and learn that the entire bank system has gone bankrupt overnight, it just seems stupid not to have a jack in the trunk. Just in case.

Olivia: And you've always—

Park: What's that from?

Tommy: I don't know. (Tommy has a small wound in his leg)

Park: You don't feel that?

Tommy: No.

-- Cut to: Diagnostics. The team’s on the table. --

Adams: He also spiked a fever overnight. It could be TB.

House: You want to say it?

Park: Say what?

Chase: There's no sign of atelectasis or infiltrates on the chest X-ray.

House: Yeah. It's med-speak for she's an idiot.

Taub: Systemic sclerosis can cause lower extremity ulcers.

Park: It would have to be pretty far along. His first symptom was just a few days ago.

Adams: His paranoia started at least a year ago.

Park: If he's paranoid.

House: So it's either not sclerosis or it's extremely aggressive sclerosis.

Taub: We should biopsy the skin lesion and start him on enoxaparin.

Park: Shouldn't we wait for the biopsy results before we start treatment?

House: (To Adams) Now's your chance. She's leading with her chin.

Adams: I agree with her.

House: No, you don't. Which means you're both idiots. Get to work. (The team exit Diagnostics, but Park follows House to his office)

Park: I know you don't think I'm an idiot.

House: [Reaching for his Vicodin. Drawer shuts] Does it matter?

Park: If you're just looking to amuse yourself at my expense, then no. But if you feel the need to manipulate me to make me useful, then yes. I thought we'd gotten past that.

House: If we hadn't gotten past that, you wouldn't be here. But ability isn't always enough. Just ask Yngwie Malmsteen.

Park: So this is you trying to help me?

House: No, this is me helping me. And amusing myself at your expense. Which brings us back to, why do you care?

Park: I deserve respect. I'm a good doctor.

House: People respect you. (Walks out) They just don't like you.

-- Cut to: Tommy’s room. --

Chase: Where's your wife?

Tommy: She just needed some time.

Chase: Not a fan of g*ns I take it.

Tommy: It's not the g*ns. It's… I shouldn't have lied about it.

Taub: I'm guessing it's a little of both. And a little of, "Who the hell is this guy?"

Tommy: I'm not a nutcase. I just want to do everything I can to protect my family.

Chase: Don't worry. I'm sure she’ll understand.

-- Cut to: Clinic room. --

Guy in the clinic: At first, I thought it might be frostbite, but I haven't really been out in the cold.

House: And yet your first thought was frostbite?

Guy: Yeah, I guess I was just going by how it looks.

House: It looks absolutely nothing like frostbite.

Guy: You serious?

House: With some difficulty.

Guy: Then what is it?

House: A sign that you need to take a long vacation. At least a month.

Guy: A vacation? Wait, is this like a bucket list thing? It's cancer…

House: It's silver. I'm guessing silver nitrate mixed with petroleum jelly that your boss put on the petty cash so he'd know who to have arrested for stealing it.

Guy: Damn.

House: Yeah, damn. [Pager beeps] It's diffused into your skin, and the only way to get rid of it is to get new skin. That normally happens every 30 days. (Starts walking out) So, I hear that La Crosse, Wisconsin has got the world's largest beer can. (Exits)

-- Cut to Clinic. Regina, the nurse, is talking to Foreman --

Regina: Here's the per diem schedules.

Foreman: These are supposed to be in the computer files.

Regina: Sorry. Since Claudine left, no one's been inputting the numbers.

House: I miss Claudine.

Regina: She left because of you.

House: I thought that was Nadine. (Leaves the patient’s file on a desk)

Regina (to Foreman): Her too.

Foreman (to House): Where are you going? You still have an hour left.

House: Emergency page takes precedence. (Walks out)

Foreman (to the nurse): Can you—

Regina: I don't know how to use the program.

Foreman: Then find someone who does. I got to get out of here.

-- Cut to: House’s department. As House enters, we see Wilson hanging inside a big net, looking angry. --

House: Got your page.

Wilson: You're an ass.

House: Admit it.

Wilson: Let me down.

House: After you admit it. (Wilson stays quiet) You know, I'm a little tired. I think I'm gonna—

Wilson: All right, I admit it. Despite the fact that I know there's a g*n in here, I'd never find it because you are more devious—

House: Clever.

Wilson: Devious.

[House yawns]

Wilson: All right, fine, clever. More clever and you'll always be one step ahead of me.

-- Cut to: Gym. Foreman is punching a boxing bag. --

[His phone beeps. He picks it up, sees who it is and starts removing his boxing gloves. A beautiful woman approaches him.]

Anita: You're either preparing to fight Pacquiao or you're having one heck of a bad day. I'm Anita.

Foreman: Eric. Nice to meet you. And you can tell Taub that he's gonna get the same treatment as this heavy bag if he doesn't cut this crap out.

Anita: Who's Taub?

Foreman: You know, I'm sure you're a nice person and you have no idea what you've gotten sucked into, but, really, I'm not interested.

Anita: Okay, and I'm sure you're a nice person, but I just moved from Atlanta, and it's my first time at this gym, so definitely don't know who this Taub guy is, but I already agree. He's a jerk. [Laughs] Are you sure you don't want to start over? Take your time. I'll be around. (Walks away)

-- Foreman returns the call he missed on his cell phone --

Foreman: Taub, it's Foreman.

Taub: I can't talk now, I’m a little busy.

Foreman: What's going on?

[Shouting]

-- Cut to Tommy’s room, where he’s gone berserk. He pushes Chase away and throws a chair at the glass wall, breaking it. --

Chase: Need some droperidol in here!

Taub: I gotta go! (Hangs up)

-- Cut to: outside Tommy’s room. The team is standing by the broken glass door, looking at Tommy, now asleep. --

Taub: He was hallucinating he was being att*cked by bears.

Adams: Points again to paranoia.

Park: I agree. Except for the "again". Acute onset points to tularemia.

Adams: Or it's been chronic, which points to GAD autoimmunity. Explains the neurological impairment as well as the normal blood work.

Park: Tularemia doesn't always show up in blood work either.

Chase: You know what else doesn't show up in the blood work? Nothing. This could be all psychiatric. An untreated schizoid disorder he's finally lost the ability to suppress.

Park: Schizophrenia doesn't cause skin ulcers or fevers.

Chase: No, but digging delusions out of your skin with dirty fingernails could cause both.

Park: I don't think he's a psych case.

House: Because you're paranoid about paranoia.

Park: Because his symptoms point towards an infection that spread to his brain. I think we should treat with high-dose, broad-spectrum—

Adams: which will k*ll him if it's a GAD autoimmunity.

House: Treat for GAD. Corticosteroids and IV immunoglobulin. (Walks away, Park follows him)

Park: I'm not paranoid. And they don't dislike me. They don't even really know me.

House: They tell you that?

Park: I didn't ask because you wouldn't believe the answer.

House: It makes you feel better to think that.

Park: You're the one everyone dislikes. You probably don't even think it's GAD. You're just agreeing with her because you think it'll create more conflict between us.

House: There's only one way to find out. Actually, there's two but we're still waiting for that Jell-O delivery. Let me know how it goes. (Walks away)

-- Cut to: House’s apartment. House walks in, and notices something. He sees a thread tied in the doorway of the kitchen, a few inches above the floor. Looks around, and sees the closet door open. He grabs his cane, takes cover behind a wall, and pulls the thread. A net fires from inside the kitchen. --

Wilson: (comes out of the closet running, with a roll of duct tape in his hand) Gotcha!

House: You poor dumb bastard.

-- House gets Wilson out of his apartment, and hands him his net. House walks to his bathroom, and as he closes the door, the handle comes off. He checks the other door, but it’s locked. He kneels at the door and tries to grab the outside handle. It falls on the floor. A foot kicks it to one side. It’s Wilson, who has returned. He kneels and looks at House through the hole. --

House: Touché.

-- Cut to: Anita’s department. Foreman and Anita walk in, and start making out. --

Anita: [Giggles] Mm. [Sighs] God, this is exactly what I needed.

Foreman: Tell me about it.

Man (inside a room): Anita.

Foreman: Oh my God. Who is that, your roommate?

Anita: It's just you have to go.
Foreman (walking out): Wait a minute, what's the big deal?

Anita: Please. I'll explain later. Just hurry up. Please.

Foreman: You have a boyfriend?

Anita: No, he's not my boyfriend. He's my husband. I'm really sorry. (Shuts the door)

Anita (from inside): Hey! I thought you weren't getting back till tomorrow.

-- Cut to: Tommy’s room. Adams and Park are talking to House through the phone’s speaker, and House is listening, still inside his bathroom. --

Park: His fever's going through the roof, which means we were wrong about GAD and the steroids kicked the infection into high gear.

Adams: Or it's GAD, and we started treatment too late.

House: Increase the steroid dose.

Park: We can't. If it's an infection, we'll k*ll him for sure.

House: With neurological symptoms progressing this fast, he's dead either way. If we increase the steroids, then either death comes slower, which means we were too late with the GAD, or death comes faster, which means we were too stupid with the infection.

Park: We were already stupid with the infection, but it's not too late. He's young, and he was perfectly healthy two days ago. He can fight this off if we give him a chance.

House: Fine. But a shotgun is not gonna work. We need a sn*per r*fle. Start running DNA assays for sporotrichosis, meningococcemia, and any other boggle-winning words you can think of.

Adams: You just said you wanted to increase the steroids, and now you want to just—

House: I changed my mind.

Adams: But—

House: Do what Park says. (Hangs up. Wilson opens the bathroom door. He has a metal detector in his hand.)

[Rattling]

Wilson: Well, you don't have a g*n, but you do have my sunglasses, my tennis racket — I can't imagine why…

House: Had to k*ll a mouse. It was really hard with those stupid little sunglasses.

Wilson: And my money clip.

House: Was there any money in it?

Wilson: Not anymore.

House: Can I go to bed now? Or do you want to do a cavity search? Lock up on your way out.

-- Cut to: Lab. --

Adams: This is ridiculous. Every moment we waste looking for a phantom infection is time we could be treating him.

Park: For the wrong diagnosis. If it was GAD, he'd be having seizures.

Adams: If it was infection, there would be some sign of it in his blood or CNS. Which there isn't.

Park: Yet.

Chase: I'm beginning to think we should just go with House's idea.

Taub: This was House's idea. He said—

Chase: No, I'm talking about the Jell-O. At least it wouldn't be so annoying to watch.

[Door opens] Foreman: Taub, you got a minute? (They walk out) You're an ass. You know that?

Taub: What's the problem? Some cute young nurse baked you cookies?

Foreman: No, some guy almost caught me making out with his wife in their living room.

Taub: And how exactly is that my fault?

Foreman: If you hadn't been screwing with me and put the idea in my head…

Taub: So you don't date anyone unless I put the idea in your head. You really do need psychiatric help.

Foreman: Unlike you, I don't need drama. I like my job, and I'm happy with my life.
Taub: You're so happy with your life you've got nothing better to do at midnight than to come back into work to yell at me?

Foreman: Stay out of my business. (Walks away)

Taub: You're blaming the wrong guy! (Chase is staring at him) Good for him. Married one's not a keeper, but it's a start.

Chase: You're an idiot.

[Pagers beeping]

[Monitor alarm blaring] Taub and Chase rush to Tommy’s room.

Nurse: He has stridor but no obstruction.

Chase: He's anaphylaxing. Get me a trach kit. Scalpel. (Makes a little cut in Tommy’s throat and inserts a trach tube.) It's not working. There's no breath sounds. It doesn't make any sense.

Taub: His trachea's blocked below the incision point. We need racemic epinephrine.

Nurse: We tried that already.

Taub: We're gonna try again. It's our only choice.

-- Cut to: Outside Tommy’s room. The team’s looking at him, and House walks towards them.--

Chase: We got him breathing, but barely.

Adams: At least we know tracheal edema isn't from anything we did because we're not doing anything.

Taub: Which is a good thing, because neither GAD nor systemic infection would cause anaphylaxis or tracheal edema.

Park: And an allergic reaction wouldn't get worse three days after he was admitted.

Chase: So we've got nothing.

House: Unless he was still being poisoned.

Adams: By who? His wife wasn't even here when he hallucinated.

House: Good question.

Adams: Now we're the ones being paranoid.

Park: What about squamous cell carcinoma? If it's only in his epithelium, it wouldn't show up in his chest X-ray.

Chase: It is possible, but…

House: Wouldn't cause hallucinations.

Park: It could if you also have paraneoplastic syndrome.

House: Get a biopsy.

Taub: You think it's cancer?

House: I think you should get a biopsy. (Walks to his office. Wilson is sitting there, and shows House a g*n.)

Wilson: Admit it. (House says nothing. Wilson holds up a g*n.) Two hours ago, I found this in your closet in a box with your name on it. I knew you'd move it somewhere outside your apartment until you were certain I'd given up looking. So I had to convince you that I'd given up looking.

House: That’s not a g*n.

Wilson: [Laughs, stands up and walks to House’s desk] Yes, it's a paperweight with a handy storage compartment for .45-caliber b*ll*ts.

House: And that's not a b*llet.

Wilson: Admit it. I'm more clever and more devious. You can even have it back. It's not my problem if you go back to prison. My problem is you thinking you're always one step ahead of me.

House: This proves nothing because it's not a g*n. It's a prop. From Dorothy Dietrich's magic act. Look it up. She's the only woman to ever do the "Catch a b*llet" trick. I won this off her prop master in a poker game.

Wilson: House—

House: It's fake! It's plugged. (He takes a pencil from his desk and sticks it in the barrel. It goes about half-way.) Look for yourself. (Aims at Wilson)

Wilson: Hey, hey, don't point that thing at me.

House: It's not dangerous because it's not a g*n.

Wilson: House, House, just stop it.

House: Fine.

(House opens the chamber and inserts the b*llet. He closes it and offers the g*n to Wilson.)

Wilson: What the hell are you doing?

House: Pull the trigger.

Wilson: Don't be insane.

House: They're blanks. You pull the trigger, I drool a little fake blood, and then I spit out the b*llet that the audience thinks I caught in my teeth. Go ahead. sh**t me.

Wilson: I'm not sh**ting you.

House: All right. I'll sh**t you. (He turns the g*n so it points at Wilson.)

Wilson: (Scared) Don't. House, don't. Even if they are blanks, people'll freak.

House: It's not real. (He puts the pencil back in the barrel.) Which means you didn't prove that I have a g*n. Which means you proved nothing. Admit it. Admit it.

Wilson: All right.

House: All right, what?

Wilson: You win.

House: And it feels good.

Wilson: Grr.

(Wilson walks out. House lets go of the pencil, which drops all the way down the barrel of the g*n. He drops the b*llet in a cup on his desk then looks at the g*n again. He shifts the pencil, thinking…)

-- Cut to: Tommy’s room. House walks in. --

House: You were wrong. Don't feel too bad. We all were. His trachea wasn't swollen. It was blocked by a pseudomembrane growing across it. It means he's not paranoid, he’s an idiot, and was poisoned. (Unplugs the device from Tommy’s throat)

Chase: What are you doing?

House: Give me a Machida scope. (Park gets it) (To Chase) Hold his legs. He's not gonna like this. Because you're not gonna be able to breathe. But I need to see down your barrel. (He looks through the scope down Tommy’s throat) Good news is the poison didn't come from your wife. It came from a little bastard of a bacterium whose crap can cause chest pain, respiratory distress, skin ulcers, the growth of pseudomembrane across the airway, and, in very rare cases, hallucinations. (Gets the scope out, plugs Tommy to the ventilator.) (To Park) Call the CDC. Tell them we need antitoxin as soon as possible.

Park: Diphtheria?

House: We didn't guess it because nobody gets it. Instead of building bunkers, you should be getting boosters. As in routine vaccines against stuff that is actually scary.

-- Cut to: Lobby. Taub is signing some papers. --

Woman on P.A.: Dr. Wills to recovery. Dr. Wills to recovery.

Foreman: Diphtheria.

Taub: House pulled it out of nowhere.

Foreman: Cool.

Taub: You just getting in?

Foreman: Had a meeting about a new parking validation system.

Taub: Cool.

-- Cut to: Tommy’s room. --

Park: How are you feeling?

Tommy: Not great. [Door slides open. His wife Olivia comes in.] But better.

Park: The antitoxin is working. He'll be able to go home in a few days.

Olivia: That's good news. But we've moved out.

Tommy: Oh, come on, honey. I'm sorry I lied, but—

Olivia: I know, okay. It was for our own good, but I don't care. I don't want to be lied to, and I can't live like that. I can't live in that home.

Tommy: Oh, please don't. I love you.

Olivia: I love you too. Which is why you're not gonna live there either. I don't care if we might need them. I just know that I can't live my life feeling like we do. It's not worth living in fear.

Tommy: Okay. I'm sorry. (Hugs her)

-- Cut to: Foreman’s office. Nurse Regina drops some papers on his desk. --

Foreman: Hey.

Regina: [Softly] Hi.

Foreman: Thanks.

Regina: You know, there's a bunch of us going to happy hour after work. I'm craving nachos. You interested?

Foreman: Thanks, but I got a lot of work I need to get done.

Regina: Sure. Well, if you change your mind, we'll be at Rudy's.

Foreman: Okay.

-- Cut to the elevators. Park enters one and sees Chase and Adams in there --

Park: Hey.

Chase: Hey.

Adams: Hey.
Park: Would you like to get a drink sometime after work?

Chase: You mean all of us or just us?

Park: I was thinking just the two of us.

Chase: Did Taub put you up to this?

Park: No, it was just something I'd been thinking about and I figured what the heck? Might as well ask.

Chase: Yeah, well, it's probably not a good idea, you know, with us working together.

Park: Didn't you marry someone you used to work with?

Chase: Yeah, but it… All right. Sure. When?

Park: Tonight?

Chase: Sure.

-- Cut to Foreman’s office. He picks up his cell phone. --

Foreman: Hey. Changed my mind. Okay. (Hangs up)

-- Cut to: House’s apartment. House opens his closet, and takes out a cigar box. He puts the g*n in there, and contemplates the box for a while. He puts it back on the shelf, and we see the box has ‘HOUSE’ written on it. He takes down a sword, and draws it from the scabbard. It has the inscription ‘John House’ near the handle. He contemplates his father’s Marine Corp. sword and then puts it back on the shelf. He shuts the light and closes the door. --

-- Cut to: Bar. Foreman’s sitting there, with a beer in his hand.--

Anita: I'm glad you changed your mind.

Foreman: Hey.