Disclaimer…I don't own anything. Now quit asking.
Author's Note…It's baby's first parody, so please be gentle. Oodles and oodles of thanks to bemorechill, because she betas like nobody's business, fo' sho'. Read and review, doodles!
Dedicated to Pluto
You'll always be a planet to me
The sun was shining. Shining brightly. Birds were singing. Singing loudly. Flowers were blossoming at alarming speeds, and everybody got annoyed because they contributed to fall allergies and besides, it was September and the time for the blossoming of flowers at alarming speeds had come and gone.
Normally, all these clichéd environmental factors would have annoyed Greggorie Howse, but today, they didn't bother him. Not because he had paid attention to canon and turned over a new leaf, because canon is, lyk, onle 4 ppl witout cr8tivity, duh, but because he was in lurve. Yes, fellow fangirls and other assorted House enthusiasts (including that guy in the corner that's leering…no, not you, Crazy Willie! The other guy! What's this? You don't see another guy? Why…why…that's because he ran out! The slimeball! Yes, yes, go chase him! Catch him! Beat him to a pulp!)
What was I saying? Oh, yes. House was in lurve. A beautiful kind of lurve, the kind that made him appreciate the sun shining and the birds singing. But not the kind that allowed him to be grateful for flowers blossoming at alarming speeds, but that was ok, because no sort of lurve is grateful for that, not even the kind comes in little white pills. Or little blue pills. Or magenta. Or turquoise. Or even tickle-me-pink. Or whatever the color of the candy was that the House prop department decided to use on that particularly swoon-worthy week.
But I digress. House was in lurve. Not only was House in lurve, but he just so happened to be in lurve with the most beautiful, wonderful, intelligent, human being on any given planet. Previously, this mystery person had been the second-most beautiful, wonderful, intelligent, human being on any given planet, but since Pluto no longer counts, this human took the house. Quite literally.
"You mean me, right?" said Wilson, popping out of a supply closet. His hair was suspiciously disheveled and a voluptuous woman was suspiciously following him, but since I'm aiming for slash in this particular paragraph, I'm going to suspiciously ignore all these pesky little glaring details. Suspiciously. "I'm the one you're in love with, right?"
"No!" House exclaimed. "Neither of us has ever displayed any homosexual tendencies whatsoever! Why would you insinuate that we're gay?"
"House," Wilson said seriously, "do you need to talk?"
House studied him closely, and wondered how a man with such keen observational skills as himself could have missed how…weird his only friend was. "No," he finally said after an excruciatingly long four-second silence, "but I do need to go to the bathroom. Wanna come with me and shock viewers with our audacity by showing a guy's back while he pees silently? Wanna wanna wanna?"
"You betcha!" Wilson said excitedly, thrilled to get more screen time to act out-of-character. "Hey, wanna take the long way through the Clinic, so you can get roped into seeing patients and show off your mad diagnostic skillz?"
"I'll go anywhere you go, Jimmy-boy!" House shouted over the shrieks of a thousand crazed fangirls.
And to the Clinic they went. It took even longer than usual, because the voluptuous woman was still on Wilson's tail and House's leg had begun to hurt. In fact, it had begun to hurt so badly that by the time they had arrived to the Clinic, it was screaming in pain even louder than the aforementioned fangirls. But not so loudly that it could be noticed in contrast to the sight that beheld our two gay--as in merry--doctors.
The Clinic was swarmed with beautiful girls, most between the ages of 12 and 22. Before House and Wilson had a chance to escape, Nurse Brenda, Debby from Accounting, Carl from Bookkeeping, and any other minor character that has appeared on the show assaulted the two.
"There's," said Nurse Brenda.
"A," said Debby from Accounting.
"Problem," said Carl from Bookkeeping.
"Is it that you all seem unable to form a cohesive sentence on your own?" House asked sincerely.
"No," said Carl from Bookkeeping. Actually, that was a problem, but not the one that was causing such complaint that it took three people to explain it.
"The," continued Kevin from Bookkeeping. You see, more than one employee worked in Bookkeeping, and one of those employees happened to be named Kevin! Cameron took delight upon this hearing this information, which was rather silly, because she did not realize the ironic significance of a Kevin from Bookkeeping. But no one bothered to tell her this, or even wonder why she cared about a person named Kevin, because better she be left to her own, bizarre wiles than do whatever it is she does in her spare time.
"Problem," said Debby from Accounting.
"Is," said Wilson for no apparent reason, as it was well known he was quite capable of forming sentences on his own.
"All," said Nurse Brenda.
"These," said Wilson, clearly eager to be part of this exciting new game.
"Girls," said Carl from Bookkeeping.
"Claim," said Kevin from Bookkeeping.
"To," said Nurse Brenda.
"Gluteus," said Wilson, because he didn't know what came next and he said the first thing that came to mind.
"Be," said Debby from Accounting, ignoring Wilson, and, much to his chagrin, saying a word that wasn't 'maximus'.
"Your," said Carl from Bookkeeping.
"Daughter," finished Nurse Brenda.
House looked around the room. There had to be at least 200, maybe even 300 young women there. It was shocking, but, then again, not really. At least not for a man with an ego the size of his love for the abovementioned human.
"Great G/d, man," Wilson sighed, happy to be even more out-of-character than before, but sad to have obviously gotten much less action than his friend. He was a very conflicted man, that Wilson. Woe be to him. "Don't you know how to use contraceptives?"
House unwisely paid no attention to his only friend. "All right!" he shouted to the girls, all too pleased to hear the sound of his own voice, "everyone with expressive blue eyes like mine that miraculously change shade and hue from episode to episode, on the left side of the room! Anybody with any other eye color, to the right!"
Only five girls moved to the right. House surveyed them with distaste. "You are not my family," he spat unkindly. "You don't have my eyes! Don't you know all my children--and by children I mean daughters, as a genetic defect prohibits me from providing Y Chromosomes--have my eyes! Yes, all my baby mamas' eye colors would surely dominate over my recessive ones, but that is realistic, damnit, and I am not realistic! I make diagnoses based on a hunch caused by something as random and bland as someone chewing a pencil end! By the way, Patient-Who-I'm-Able-To-Psychologically-Analyze-After-Spending-Five-Minutes-With-Her had pencilitisenzaviralinfectionpseudomedicaltermsmedicaltermsmedicalterms! I treated it by caning her! Aren't I uniquely brilliant!"
There was an uncomfortable silence. Unfortunately, all the crickets had gone on vacation with Steve McQueen who, according to the House Fanfiction Law of Pets, Props, and Prescriptions, must make an appearance in each and every fanfic along with House's cane and Vicodin. (Sidebar: Vicodin can be spelled in a variety of ways, including 'vicoden', 'vikodin', and the ever-popular, 'vicoding.') Nevertheless, the crickets were gone. And so the silence was even more profound.
House looked around. "I said, AREN'T I BRILLIANTLY UNIQUE!"
Cuddy, who had just walked in from her Very Important Board Meeting™, surveyed the scene, looking very annoyed indeed. "House," she said, "I think there's a bigger problem than this in your office."
House turned to her with eager eyes. "Is it a big problem? A rare one? One that I can pretend to avoid and get annoyed with for thirty-two seconds, then get so totally immersed with that I can't be bothered with anyone or anything else for however long my attention span/the period of medical uncertainty? Is it that kind of problem?"
Cuddy scuffed her extremely inappropriate-for-work on the floor, which resulted in quite a few scratches on the floor, which caused her to screech like a woman aflame, even though she herself was the scratch-causer, a fact that caused her screeches to reach even higher levels. It truly was a vicious cycle.
"Sure," intervened one of the blue-eyed daughters, whose name happened to be Mary Sue.
"They really need your help," added another blue-eyed daughter, whose name also happened to be Mary Sue.
"Yeah, you better run," badly joked another blue-eyed daughter, whose name also happened to be Mary Sue! What a cowinky!
"Uhh, doy," said House, sounding exactly like that Moose character from the Archie comics. You see, kind reader, fanfic writers must dumb House down to increase the brilliance of his Mary-Sue-ific daughters. It's simple logic that Mary Sues can understand at three. They're so much better then other, average babies.
The compelling conversation would have gone further, and it did after House left the room, and since we must follow our noble cripple, we left too, thus missing the dramatic ending of the aforementioned conversation. At least we had the pleasure of beating House to his office, because he slipped and fell and we pointed and laughed and ran. What fun!
When House arrived at the room, he was shocked at the scene that lay before him. It was even worse than that time he walked in on Cameron, a cancer patient, and his cane. But another tale, another time.
What was I talking about? Oh, the shocking scene. Right.
But how can one describe such a scene? Let's just say that if House thought he was in lurve, well…
Chase had fallen in lurve with a comb.
The comb had fallen in lurve with Cameron.
Cameron had fallen in lurve with Wilson.
Wilson had fallen in lurve with women.
Women had fallen in lurve with Chase's issues.
Chase's issues had fallen in lurve with Cameron's issues. They were very dysfunctional together and had beautiful issue babies.
Foreman had fallen in lurve with needles.
Needles had fallen in lurve with Vicodin.
Vicodin had fallen in lurve with Vicoding. They had a daughter named Vicodong.
Vicodong fell in lurve with House. But alas! Vicodin and Vicoding did not approve of House, likewise John and Blythe for Vicodong. It was very Montague-Capulet, a big to-do. But that didn't bear much significance at all, as House was barely lukewarm over Vicodin, let along Vicodong.
As for House? House, dear readers, had fallen in love with himself. Now who didn't call that?
Fin