This is a story about the life of Dr. Eric Foreman... wait, his first name is Eric, right?

Foreman looked up at the ceiling of his office and growled, "Yes, it's Eric. What kind of fanfiction writer doesn't do research before she writes a fanfiction? And you want to be a novelist when you grow up!"

Hey, buddy, be lucky that I'm writing about you at all. The show is called 'House'... I should be writing about House, not some lame extra doctor. I just felt sorry for you, 'kay?

"I don't need your pity, Missy. I'm a very good.. er..."

Neurologist, I think.

Foreman glared, "Could you just start the story, please? This whole bickering between the character and the author got old a long time ago."

I'm thinking I'll make this the story... It's easier to be funny when I can put my two cents in every once in a while, and the whole point of this is to be funny...

"What? I thought this was supposed to be 'A Day in the Life of Dr. Foreman'? That's what the title says!"

I can always change the title to 'Some Whacked-Up Parody Starring Eric Foreman and the Author'.

"That's too long of a title... and don't you think I'm getting a little out of character here?"

Mwahaha. You're a lame extra doctor, remember? I think you're the only main character who doesn't have a set personality. House is, well, the star so he's got loads of demensions. Cameron's got second billing on that whole 'dimensions' thing, with her sugary intentions and the death of her husband. Chase is a little bastard, Cuddy's always angry at House... Yep, you're the neutral little doctor who sits in the background with an imaginary bulls-eye painted on his forehead, to which House's many sarcastic remarks are targeted.

"Oh.. Well, that's just unfair! Why do I have to be the lame extra doctor with the imaginary bullseye? I mean, I'm smart, I've got some things going for me, why-"

Oh! Shut up your whining for a second, I think I got a storyline we can swing with here... Yes, this'll do nicely...

Foreman woke from his dream with a start. He looked around, and by the reflection in the glass walls, the crick in his neck, and the feel of paper stuck to his face, he'd apparently fallen aflseep at his desk while looking through folders (he was, apparently, the only worker who did paperwork around the place.) It was such a strange dream, too, in which he was talking to the disembodied voice of a sixteen-year-old girl, who kept making fun of him. He thought about the things she'd said, about him always being ignored by everyone else, and shook his head. He wasn't ignored at all- he had friends here. Cameron and Chase were his friends, of course. Still, the girl's words stuck with him.

He glanced at his watch. It was eight thirty- not nearly enough time for him to go home and still be on time at nine o'clock, so he used the extra change of clothes he kept in the closet for days like this. Standing and stretching, he made his way to the closet and pulled out a change of clothes, quickly swapping out his lab coat for the clean but quite dusty extra one before turning to the glass door of his office.

Foreman opened the glass door and stepped out into the florescent lights of the hospital hallway. He'd always wondered why there was so much glass in a hospital. Someone could just toss a chair around and the resulting explosion of glass could hurt the patients, doctors, and staff that happened to be walking by at the time. It just wasn't practical.

"Hey!" a voice called from behind him. Foreman looked up at the ceiling, expecting the voice of the mean sixteen year old, but turned around to find Dr. Chase jogging down the hall. It was easy to think Dr. Chase was a sixteen year old girl, so Foreman didn't think too much on his mistake.

"Oh, Dr. Chase. What-"

But Dr. Chase kept talking to the orderly that he'd been calling. "Have you seen Dr. Foreman? I need the paperwork he was working on."

"Yo. I'm right here." Foreman waved, then moved closer to Dr. Chase, but the little Australian girly-man didn't even turn his head. Foreman twiddled his fingers right in front of his little Australian girly man nose, but he didn't even blink.

"Oh my God!" Foreman gasped, "This has to be some sort of manifestation of my imagination, brought on by lack of sleep. Or too much sleep. Maybe I'm dreaming still." Foreman promptly struck his head against one of the impractical glass walls of the hallway, causing a loud THUNK that made everyone look around in curiosity, and a splitting headache simultaniously.

"What was that?" Dr. Chase squeaked in a high-pitched girly voice as she er.. he ran to hide behind the orderly. The orderly shrugged and moved on down the hall. She had IVs to change and bedpans to dump- she couldn't be bothered with the antics of some blond girly man. His cover lost, Dr. Chase squealed again and ran down the hall in a prancing gate, his hand held slightly above his shoulder.

Foreman chuckled and leaned against a door, only to fall through it, then the floor underneath him, and land in the room where House usually brainstormed with the other doctors on the newest case. Everyone was there, including an out-of-breath and even paler than usual Chase, and they were all tapping their fingers on the table as if waiting for something.

"I guess Foreman isn't showing up for work today," House said as he stood, marker in hand. He wrote several things on the board and asked for the opinion of his colleagues. All of them answered with perfectly suitable solutions right away, and House frowned. "This isn't right. I'm supposed to shoot each of you down, one by one, until I reach a suggestion I like. I can't get through a brainstorming process without ahurtful stab at someone's personality or past life!"

"Well, since Foreman isn't here, you'll have to target one of us," Cameron offered in her annoyingly always-helpful manner.

"You know, you're annoyingly always helpful," House snapped. Then fell back into his seat and stared blankly at the wall. "That was the worst comeback I've ever had. And you're such an easy target, too!"

"Not as easy a target as Foreman," Chase said brightly.

"Oh, go... back to Australia," House stuttered. He looked at his reflection in the table with shock. "This cannot be! My skills for cynicism and satire have gone! I'm not longer the doctor I was before!"

"You mean.. a jerk?" Cameron said with a cheerful smile.

House hid his face in his arms and sobbed, "What could be wrong with me?"

Foreman grinned and laughed maniacally, rubbing his hands together in the stereotypical way of someone realizing they've got some great power on their side. Or someone who was really cold and trying to warm their hands. But Foreman's reason for rubbing his hands together was for the powerful thing, not the cold thing. Because, surprisingly enough, it was quite moderate in the hospital, despite all the impractical glass walls.

He could have fun with being invisible. If he could just figure out how to be coporial at will (as it seemed to come and go when he least suspected it) then he could have lots of fun antagonizing Dr. House, scaring Dr. Cameron, and... well, moderate fun with scaring Dr. Chase. He was easily scared, after all, and it was like trying to frighten a two-year old girl who'd just had a horrible nightmare. Not all that fun and kind of sad. Another similarity is they both usually wet their pants our of fear.

Oh well, Foreman thought to himself, stopping his maniacal mad-scientist impression to stand up and look over his prey for a few moments, It'll still be fun with the rest of them.