A/N: This is a one shot based on a joke my friend with a sick mind told me last week. I've redone it so any House goon like myself will enjoy it to full extent. Oh, did you know? One day, I got this idea on a train about a doctor with terrible bedside manner and a brilliant mind. I wrote the whole pilot down on a motion sickness bag, then, by golly gosh, I foolishly left it on the seat. A year later, some bozo named David Shore decided to use MY screenplay to create himself a TV show. So no, I don't own House, but thanks for the painful reminder. How about you give me a paper cut and pour lemon juice on it as well?

Proof and Reality

Today was not the best of days. Stuck in a clinic room, listening to idiots one by one, was not the ideal way to spend a Friday afternoon. He'd convinced three mothers that their children's "diagnosed" illnesses (or, for one child, a privacy issue) were nothing more than colds. So when one boy of about twelve walked in, House prepared to say something witty about syphilis.

He was skinny, short and pre-pubescent. Oh, the sheer fun that was bubbling up inside him. The boy passed him a fill-in about why he had to irritate House, when he noticed: The form was blank.

"I'm sorry, dude. I don't have my police light with me today, I need you to write this out for me again in visible ink." House explained to the kid, reaching for the trusty orange bottle.

"No, it's okay. I need you to answer a question for me so I can understand it. It's for homework." the boy looked at him, with hopeful, puppy dog eyes.

"Okay...I'm an open book, buddy. The meaning of life? Why lemons are yellow? Will Paris Hilton get a decent boyfriend in the next ten years?" he asked in mock inquisition.

"No...nothing weird like that. I need to understand proof and reality."

Brilliant.

House got up from the exam chair, and limped over to the door. He shuffled his hand over to the boy, in a method o telling him to come closer. The boy looked at him like he was asylum-case insane, and went over to the door.

"Now, see that doctor over there?" House asked the kid, sharply pointing a finger at

Chase, who was talking to Nurse Brenda about some prescription.

"Uhh, yeah?" he said, not sure what the hell was going to come next.

"Good, you're bright for your age. Now, see that nurse?" House doubled checked with the kid and made sure that he could see the red-haired nurse he was indicating to. The boy nodded.

"Go up to that nurse, and ask her," House explained with a voice you'd use to talk to a really thick three-year-old, then slowly pointing back to Chase. "If she will sleep with that doctor for a million dollars."

"No way! That's rude! Besides, she'll think I'm crazy." he said, shuffling around on his sneakers. Funny they were called that, they squeaked more than they sneaked.

"She knows I'm crazy, yet she lives her life. Just go and ask her about it, okay kid?"

Finally deciding that House might have some useful insight, the kid went out of the clinic room and came back a few minutes later looking sheepish.

"Um, she said yes."

Okay, this was gonna be good!

"Right, well now. You've got the routine down pat after the first trial. Not too bad for a kid your age. Now, part two. There's an intern over there. It's her first day, so don't be too hard on her. Just ask her if she'll sleep with that doctor for a million dollars."

The boy seemed really uncertain about that. "Erm, if it's her first day, shouldn't I be a bit more sincere?"

"No, no! She's fine really. Just ask her that same question again." House moved his head up and down in reassurance. The kid left the room again and left House to play a game of Online Cluedo. H had almost put in his suggestion for Miss Scarlet with the Dagger in the Ballroom, when the kid came back with an even more humiliated look on his face.

"Is it just me, or is every woman in this hospital going to say 'Yes' to that question?"

"Not everyone, there's one in the Witherspoon Wing who thinks I'd be worth a tap." House smugly smiled at the kid in one of those 'You'll understand when you're older' kind of ways. Now, the third part of his evil and devious plan.

"Right, now go down the hall, to the left, past the gift shop, and you'll come across a room with big, shiny wood-lined glass doors. I think it's Mahogony Puke or some disgusting colour like that. There's a gut typing away at the desk,. Ask him if he'd sleep with Dr. Robert Chase for a million dollars."

The kid definitely made up his mind about whether Dr. House was insane or not.

"You can't just ask a guy if he'd have sex with another guy! That's gay!"

"Damn straight. You can be a mormon conducting a survey, alright? Great, glad you'll do it."

"But it's...not right!"

"And another supermodel in the world has gotten a zit just from you saying that. GO, don't you want t finish your homework?"

"Fine," the kid replied, walking out. Now, where was House? Oh, that's right. Suggesting whether Mr. Boddy had been stabbed by Miss Scarlet who'd listened to Murder on the Dancefloor one too many times. He'd filled in the little survey thing, when the kid slammed the door open against the whitewashed walls and causing it to almost recoil in his face. He looked like he had been trying to outrun Jason.

"You're not gonna believe this, but..."

"What kid? What?" he wanted to know once and for all if Cuddy's assistant was gay or not.

"...he said yes too!" he shrieked. House pointed to the exam chair. No way was he going to be dealing with an irritating kid who gave himself anaphlaxis.

"Okay, now you have your answer. The proof is that this hospital has the ability to make three million dollars, but the reality is we work with a maneater, a desperado and a poof."

THE END

0.o