Okay, here's the deal. I decided that there's enough dramarama fics out there, and not enough comic relief. This idea just popped into my head one day a while ago, and I finally got it down on paper.

Reviews are much love:)


(Bonk!)

"Ah!" Gregory House exclaimed as he bolted upright in bed. "What the hell?!" He grasped his head in pain. Looking to his right, he saw the source of said pain.

What the hell? Where did that come from?

On the bed beside him was a small statue of somekind. He had no idea what it was or what it was doing bonking him on the head. House didn't own artwork. It was black, and to be honest, looked like a big ball, with pointy edges. House felt some warmth on the fingers that were holding onto his head and realized he was bleeding.

Great, just great.

He got up and as he moseyed, yes, moseyed, to the bathroom, wondered where it had come from. There was no shelf above his bed.

After he had done his best to bandage his head he came back out and looked at the object, still situated in its landing spot.

Was this some kind of trick somebody was playing on him? Maybe Wilson? But that still didn't explain where the flying object had come from. Unless Wilson had drilled a hole in House's roof and dropped it from there, then closed the hole back up, there was no logical explanation for this.

Well, I guess I'm not going to get anywhere thinking about it. Just forget it.

House dropped the stone back on his bed and headed out to the kitchen to get some food in him before he headed off to work.

HMDHMDHMD

As they were every morning, the ducklings were situated in the conference room when House arrived. Well, two of them were, Chase was late, as usual.

"Cameron, coffee," House ordered as he came in, not even bothering to look at her.

"Hmm…get it yourself, I'm busy," she responded.

House stopped short. "Excuse me? You're busy? You're too busy to get me my coffee? Cameron, every day for the past three years you've made me my coffee. It's like you look forward to it. You'd never make me get my own."

"Well, too bad, times have changed. I'm busy." She still hadn't looked up from what appeared to be some very interesting reading material. House couldn't tell what it was.

As he made his way over to the coffee machine he saw Foreman sitting at the conference table, also very engrossed in some reading. His looked to be a brochure or something. House saw blue. He went over to the neurologist to get a better look.

"Oh My God! What the hell is that?!" House demanded.

Foreman looked behind his shoulder, startled. "What? It's nothing, it's nothing." He made a move to put the brochure in his pocket, but House reached for it. Foreman didn't let go right away, and a tug-of-war ensued.

"House! Give it back! It's mine!" Foreman hollered like an 8 year old boy.

"No! I just want to see it!" House hollered back, sounding equally as juvenile.

Finally, House emerged victorious. He took a second to study the brochure.

"The Police Academy?! Foreman, are you seriously considering going into the Police Academy?!"

"So what if I am?" Foreman replied, defensively.

"That's crazy! You hate cops! Remember Tritter? And why the hell would anyone leave a career like medicine where they get the big bucks to be a low-paid street cop?"

"House, did it ever occur to you that I might not be doing it for the money? That maybe I just want to help people? Besides, it's an honourable job. And it would give me a good feeling at the end of the day, to know I'm working for the good guys and helping out society."

House shook his head back and forth several times. This was crazy-talk. He looked over to Cameron, hoping for a life raft.

"Aren't you going to offer an opinion on this?"

"Huh?" she said, looking up. It seemed as though she hadn't heard a word of their conversation.

"What are you reading anyway? It can't be that fascinating." House dropped his argument with Foreman and headed over to the desk where Cameron was seated.

Cameron cringed a bit, pulling the book towards her. As she did so, the book lifted up and the cover was slightly exposed. House could not believe his eyes.

The Holy Bible.

"Uh, Cameron, you're supposed to be an atheist. You do know it's against your people's rules to be reading one of those, right?"

She didn't meet his gaze. "Well, maybe I'm reconsidering my beliefs."

"Why?" House asked hoarsely, completely dumbfounded.

"Because I want to, okay! It's none of your business." She curled up with the book again and House was about to say something else when a horrifyingly high-pitched scream pierced the air.

Chase came running into the room.

"Oh my God, oh my God! What am I going to do?!" he wailed.

"What are you going to do about what?" Cameron asked.

"I'm…I'm…well, I was in the bathroom, and…I…I'm going bald!"

"What?!" all three shrieked back.

"My hair's falling out!" Chase cried. "This can't be happening! I'm too young to lose my hair! Without it, what will I have going for me? How will I get the ladies?!" Chase covered his face with his hands and sat down at the table and wailed like a little girl.

House looked around and watched his three ducklings. He tried to picture it. Foreman as a cop, Cameron in a church, and Chase without hair. It hurt his brain. He needed to lie down. He headed into his office and shut the blinds, and tried to forget about all of this.


So what do you think? Did I succeed in being funny? Let me know what you think of this chapter and I'll post some more. :)