House woke up to the sound of clattering plates. He lifted his head from the couch, a string of saliva hanging form his lip. He was sleeping off another Vicodin OD.
House looking at the kitchen nervously.
" W...Wilson?" House was hoping for his colleague's's inviting voice to echo from the stove area.
" No, Dad...it's me!" The small but firm voice called from the kitchen.
" Dad? Who the hell...are you?" House shuffled from the couch and reached for his cane to quickly retreat into the kitchen. He was more angry than afraid of the accusations of fatherhood.
" Sorry, I can call you dad, right? I mean, it's kinda official and all now..."
House rounded the corner of the wall sharply and his eyes widen in such surprise. All there was was a mouse in clothing. One of Wilson's ridiculous pranks...but...this mouse was...on it's hind legs.
" What is GOING ON? "
" I guess you do have a bit of a narcotics problem, so I;ll re=introduce myself...My name is Stuart Little, and I'm your newly adopted son! "
House looked around the room.
" I don't have a PROBLEM with narcotics, okay? "