This was written for my English class. The original outline was: Character 1 - Dr. Gregory House; Character 2 - Osama bin Laden; Setting - Area 51; Problem - Falcon Punch music video; Solution - Snape dies.
So, I'm sure you'll see how I incorporated everything to make it make sense! :)
Enjoy!
An Ordinary House Day
"You know, I would be paying attention to what you're saying, but I'm too busy staring at your funyuns," Dr. Gregory House grumbled as he shook three Vicodin from the small, orange prescription bottle he held out onto his hand and into his mouth, swallowing them in a single gulp skillfully. He was slouched lazily in one of the large, comfortable chairs that were specifically placed around Dr. Cuddy's office. "They're just... so enrapturing." He grinned at the other doctor's embarrassment.
The female dean of medicine, her cheeks red and hot, shot a glare at him and sighed, calming herself. She reached up and buttoned her blouse to the neck, preventing the lecherous doctor from gaining anymore peaks.
"House, do you understand the deal? Absolutely no clinic hours for six entire months if you make an animated Falcon-Punch music video for one of Wilson's patients. The little boy with the tumors all over his brain, remember him? You're the one who found the tumors, even though they're inoperable. His last wish is for that video. And, House, you're the only one on the staff that actually knows who Captain Falcon is." Cuddy splayed her hands over her desk and looked at her employee with desperation in her eyes. "Please, House, just be human this once."
"I'm hurt," House joked, feigning a dramatically pained expression. "You don't think I'm human!"
Cuddy sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Go make the video, House." She returned to her computer, forcing the conversation to finish. House pouted childishly and sat up in his chair.
"What if I don't want to make the damn video?" he questioned, the fires of rebellion lighting up his eyes. "I mean, Captain Falcon? How pathetic can the boy get? He's, what, fifteen?"
"Twelve," Cuddy corrected, trying not to pay attention to the stubborn doctor.
"Still a teenager. He should be over idiotic video game characters. He should want a video full of naked girls for his dying wish!"
"House, he won't technically be a teenager for another four months. And, besides, you're not over video games, yet, so shut up and just make the damn video."
The male doctor's eyes narrowed and he huffed.
"Fine," he growled, standing up, cane in hand. "Six months free from the clinic is maybe enough to account for a crappy music video." And he stalked out of the dean's office awkwardly.
"Why don't you just make the music video? It can't be that difficult," Dr. James Wilson offered, munching on half a sandwich. The cafeteria he and his friend sat in was pleasantly calm and rather empty. Though, the peacefulness of the surroundings didn't positively affect the diagnostician in the least. House sat in the plastic chair across the small lunch table from Wilson grumpily. Snatching the oncologist's small bag of chips that had been left unattended on the lunch tray, he growled, "No, but it takes time... time that would be better well spent downloading porn or bar hopping." The tumor doctor rolled his eyes and took another bite of his sandwich. House opened the bag of chips angrily and stuffed a handful in his mouth.
"Do it for Cuddy," Wilson said, looking his friend in the eyes.
"No, I'm doing it for myself. I don't care if the boy's mom and grandma and sister and Cuddy all want me to, I'm only going along with it because of the clinic-less six months I'm rewarded if I do."
"What if I asked you to give the boy his wish?" Wilson asked, an eyebrow raised. He was truly curious for the answer.
"I'd snort and tell you that your wants don't affect my actions." House tossed a few more potato chips into his mouth.
"Oh? Well, I'm glad I know that, best friend," the oncologist said casually, finishing his sandwich. "Well, I'll off. Got to go check on the recovery of the terrorist." He stretched and sighed.
House perked up at Wilson's last word.
"Terrorist?" he questioned, eyes wide like a young boy's. "When did we get one of those?" He actually looked surprised. Wilson raised his eyebrow.
"You didn't know?"
"No, I didn't know our hospital was holding a terrorist!" House growled, standing up clumsily. "Who? Which one?"
Wilson blinked and cleared his throat.
"Osama bin Laden," was his answer.
"No way!" House grinned, eyes dancing with twisted excitement. "I have to go see him!" And he clambered away with his cane, gleeful and giddy.
"Well, that was a disappointment," House grumbled, entering his office with Wilson close behind.
"What did you expect, House? He is on pain medication... as well as some other things. The guy just got a tumor removed from his head; of course he's going to be out of it," the oncologist responded, justifying the situation.
"Doesn't mean it wasn't the biggest letdown I've ever experienced," the older doctor groaned. "I mean, come on! All he said was 'Falcon PUNCH'!" He glared at Wilson. "Seriously."
Wilson just laughed. "Hey, maybe you could use that in your music video for Brennan."
"Who?"
"The tumor boy... the one who's dying..."
"Oh, him... Why would he want Osama bin Laden saying 'Falcon Punch'? He wouldn't get it, he's only five."
"Brennan's twelve, House."
"Same thing, he's still a child."
The oncologist sighed. "I'll... leave you to your work."
"Thanks," House said, glaring at his only friend's back as he walked out of his office.
"Well, this is going no where," the unprofessional doctor croaked. He'd downloaded and recorded clips of Captain Falcon and tried to make a music video about the Nintendo character but, it wasn't working well.
"Ugh..." he sighed, leaning back in his chair. He closed his eyes, letting his mind rest for just a moment.
The sharp, shrill bleep of the beeper on his belt forced his eyes to shoot open.
"Crap," House yawned, tearing the annoying appliance off his waist. "Great, a new patient." He stood, grabbed his cane and ran, as well as a cripple could, out of his office.
"Wait, what?" House stared in disbelief at the man in the bed in the ICU. "Snape? Severus Snape?"
"Auh... yea." Chase nodded, looking over the fictional character's file. "It's Severuus Snaipe."
"He came in in a state of psychosis after having a seizure and experienced a heart attack while in the ambulance," Cameron stated, matter-of-fact-ly, pushing a long lock of her reddish hair behind her ear.
"His failuh saiys hee's complayned of jouint payin and raashes on his cheeiks as well as loousing quaite a bit of weaight in the paast fiew months," Chase added.
"It's lupus," Foreman said casually, heaving a sigh.
"It's never lupus," House growled, staring at the gaunt, dark haired man wheezing on the ICU bed. "Why can't be breathe?"His 'ducklings' turned and looked at the character.
"Sarcoidosis," Foreman stated. "Get a CT of his lungs."
"I thought you said it was lupus," Cameron murmured.
"New symptom equals new diagnosis," the dark man retorted back.
"That doesn't mean we can rule out lupus," the female complained.
"Just test for both!" House almost yelled. "Get an ANA test and a CT of his chest. God, you're all acting like children. Grow up!" He growled and stalked off, leaving his people to get more information from the man who wasn't supposed to be real while he could get back to finishing that stupid music video before the kid it was for died.
"So... getting anywhere?" Wilson asked, peering at the computer screen over House's shoulder.
"No," the diagnostician grumbled, leaning back in his chair. "I... don't know what to do at all. This is stupid!" He glared at the bright monitor. "And to top it all off, I can't get that stupid wizard professor out of my head! The tests haven't come back yet and Foreman keeps stopping by every few minutes saying that the guy's condition is worsening."
"What happened to breaking into the patient's home and playing hide-and-seek with the perpetrator of the disease?" Wilson asked jokingly as he stood and placed his hand on his hips in his casual 'super-hero' stance.
"Cameron said he lives in... I forgot." House leaned across his desk and grabbed the small green file. He flipped through it till he found the paper he was looking for. "Uh... he lives in Area 51."
Wilson raised an eyebrow. "Area 51? I didn't know regular citizens could live there, let alone characters from fictional novels."
"Well, this one does... I'll get Chase to go down there and search around."
"... House, Area 51 is in Nevada. We're in Princeton, if you forgot. Do you know how long it would take to get there and back? Snape might be dead by then!"
"Wilson, you're an idiot!" House snarled. Wilson took a step back, an expression of utter confusion covering his face.
"How so?" he questioned angrily.
"The terrorist," House grinned, leaving it at that.
Wilson rolled his eyes as House stumbled into the oncologist's office.
"Enjoy your trip?" the tumor doctor asked, sighing.
"Oh, yes," House smirked as he plopped himself down in the chair on the other side of Wilson's desk. He sighed happily and closed his eyes, resting. Wilson blinked, waiting for his friend to continue his telling of the adventure with Osama bin Laden to Area 51. House remained silent.
"Um... what did you find?" Wilson asked cautiously.
House took a deep breath and replied with, "Nothing... but it was entertaining getting shot at by the American military."
"But you didn't find anything about what's wrong with Severus?"
"Nope."
Wilson sighed.
"Are those tests done yet?" House opened a weary eye and looked at Wilson. "It's been a few hours. What are the results?"
Again, Wilson sighed. "Chase came in here about an hour ago saying that there was some contaminate in the patient's blood screwing with the ANA test and the CT wasn't very clear. Foreman thinks that he moved during it so it's hard to tell if whats in his lungs are granulomas or not."
"Damn!" House cursed angrily.
"All we can do is wait, House," Wilson said calmly.
The door to Wilson's office opened, both the men looked over to see who it was.
"Cuddy," Wilson said, acknowledging the dean.
"Wilson," she replied, nodding her head in his direction. "House..." She gave a little sigh and walked over to him. "Brennan's state is worsening."
"Who? Cuddy, the patient's name is Severus," House said, an edge to his voice.
Her eyelids dropped to give a glare to his idiocy. "I'm talking about the boy with the inoperable tumors in his head."
"Oh, him."
"He's going faster than we expected. You need to finish that video for him, House!"
"Well, this guy's dying, too and we might be able to save him if you just leave me alone for a while."
"I did, House, and you kidnapped a patient and forced him to fly you to Nevada!"
House grinned devilishly.
Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Just do the damn video. I'm taking you off Snape's case."
"What?!" House jumped out of his chair as well as a cripple could. "Why? He's dying!"
"And the tests are being done. I'm sure Wilson's smart enough to figure it out if your 'ducklings' could just do the tests correctly. You have more important priorities at hand." And she walked away, ignoring her employee's blubbering excuses.
"Damn!" House shouted, sitting back down.
"Everything will be fine," Wilson said soothingly. "Why don't you work on the video while we wait."
House shook his head. "No, I'm not giving in to her."
Wilson shrugged. "Suit yourself."
"Weai've got the reisuults!" Chase said joyously as he and Cameron practically ran into Wilson's office. The two male doctors looked up at them from the middle of their cat's cradle game, Wilson curious, House pissed.
"Positive ANA. He's got lupus," Cameron panted.
"I've never heard someone say that happily," House murmured, turning around to face them. "Give him the meds to keep it under control." He stretched lazily. "Now that that's done-"
Foreman burst into the room, almost knocking Chase over.
"I redid the CT!" he said quickly. "He's got granulomas. It's sarcoidosis!"
"Thait's impoussibule!"
"Are you sure?" House asked, calmly.
"Very. I even redid the CT twice after the first mess up just to be sure," he panted heavily.
"Then... okay." House smiled and turned back around to face Wilson and resume their game.
"Uh, House," Cameron said, getting the doctor's attention. "He can't just randomly have two autoimmune diseases."
"If the tests say he does, he does. Give him the meds to manage it and he'll be fine if he tries to stay healthy."
Cameron started to retort but was drowned out by the crazy cacophony of beepers going off simultaneously.
"It's Severuus," Chase mumbled.
"Well, go save him!" House shouted and he 'ducklings' ran out of the oncologist's office.
"He... didn't make it." Cameron practically whispered as she, Chase and Foreman filed into House's office. "He's dead."
House looked up from his computer. "I kind of figured that from your statement of 'He didn't make it'." He sat back in his chair and returned his attention to the monitor.
"Don't you care?" Foreman asked, a hint of accusation beneath his words.
"Eh... we figured out why he was sick and it wasn't our fault he died. Why should I be upset about it?" The disc drive of his computer popped open. "Ah! Yes!" he growled giddily, picking up the disc from the middle and snapping it into a jewel case. He stood and walked, with the aid of his cane, towards the door. Cuddy opened it from the other side before he reached it and stood in the doorway.
"Did you finish the video for Brennan?" Her tone was dark and controlling.
"Yep," House retorted, practically throwing the disc in the case at her. "There you go." He pushed passed the dean with his cane and exited his office.
"Where are you going?" she asked as he limped down the hall.
"I'm gonna enjoy my six clinic-free months!" And he grinned as he jabbed the elevator button.
"So, how's life without the clinic?" Wilson asked, flicking the paper football passed House's finger goal.
"Amazing," House laughed happily.
"I'm glad you're actually feeling good for once. Is you leg feeling any better?"
"It's fine, I guess. Bearable." House flipped the little football at Wilson, hitting the oncologist's neck instead of through the 'goal posts' of his fingers.
"Oops," he grinned, unapologetic.
Wilson shook his head, sighing, but with a smile on his face, and put his hands in position to snap the wad of paper back at House.
"Anyway, I heard something about your video for Brennan."
"The brain tumor boy? What about it?"
"Well, to be vague, something about Osama bin Laden and a large amount of American test pilots and, well, 'Falcon PUNCH'!" Wilson did the punching movement as he said the words and House stared at him, unable to flick the paper football back.
"What?" Wilson asked at House's expression.
House rolled his eyes. "Never do that again. You looked retarded."
"Oh, shut up, House." Wilson grumbled, making his hands goal posts again.
House snickered and smiled, enjoying being cruel to his one and only friend.
And the men played their childish game happily.