Watch Out for Rocks
Author's Note: Crackfic. Parody. Random. Like nothing I've ever written, and probably nothing I'll ever write again. Inspired by a conversation with a friend. You've been warned don't take this seriously—you'll only hurt yourself. Read and Review.
Disclaimer: I don't own House. Hell, I don't even own a House.
Things had been going very slowly for the PPTH gang. It was a Thursday, and because they only had one patient a week, whose symptoms could be cured by [now] Monday night at around 9 they now were at a loss for something to do. It seemed odd, that the work they put in on their patient could be easily condensed into about a 42 minute time period broken up by about 15 minutes worth of moments when all their thoughts and actions stopped and for some reason they could only think about an array of products and services each for about 15 to 30 seconds. The funny part was it always happened right after they had a most dramatic moment. It was one of the few mysteries the gang couldn't figure out, but none wished to mention it to anyone, for fear the rest would think they were unfit to be doctors, and if they left Princeton Plainsboro, where would they be? They may have to get jobs where they had one specialty and didn't do everything themselves, ignoring the entire rest of the hospital staff. The real surgeons would do surgery, and the x-ray technicians would do MRIs and then they'd have even larger chucks of time out of their work days to do nothing.
In House's office, where they all convened, Cameron was next to Thirteen, Chase was next to Kutner, Foreman was next to Taub, and House was next to Wilson. Wilson was yelling at House in hushed tones about how stupid it was for him to hire three "new" doctors, who were exactly like the old ones in every possible way, if the old ducklings were still around in House's life. It was Wilson's opinion that House should have either kept the old ones, or gotten new ones that were actually new and different from the old ones. House only rolled his eyes at Wilson, all the while screaming on the inside how stupid it was of him, and wondering silently how the hell he was going to find enough for everyone to do during their hour of actual work.
Cuddy was in her office playing Solitaire until the gang barged into her office to pretend to care what she said, before dismissing her opinions and doing whatever the hell they wanted because, as they all knew, she was far too weak a character to ever really do anything as Dean of Medicine, and was only there for demographic reasons (never-the-less, a few buttons always manged to pop off in her surprise if someone actually came to speak with her). Because it was Thursday, she figured she had the weekend, and a couple days until she would interact with the rest of the team for about 3 minutes. A little known fact about her was just how excellent a Solitaire player she really was.
Eventually, the ducklings new and old started to get restless, once they realized how much they had in common with the people they replaced, and how there wasn't that much to discuss when you essentially talk with yourself. The ducklings started complaining, and House and Wilson held them off as long as they could, until Wilson realized just how bored he was too, and turned on House. Powerless, House gave in, and decided to find something to keep himself and the others occupied. Suddenly, he was struck with an idea that left him grabbing his cane and power-limping out of the hospital and to the nearest office supply store where he purchased computer paper, ink, and a book entitled "Website Design for Dummies".
After speeding back to Princeton Plainsboro, his packages under his arm, House arrived back in the conference room to find the ducklings and Wilson had moved the furniture to the sides of the room and were playing "duckling, duckling, wombat". Not aware of his presence, Foreman was currently circling the group tapping each on the head with a "duckling…". Reaching Kutner, Foreman tapped his head, saying "wombat", and proceeded to be chased around the circle by Kutner until he reached Kutner's old spot on the carpet. House merely watched in amazement, until finally clearing his throat. Foreman paused, and the eyes of everyone (except Kutner who only noticed House's presence after tapping Foreman and realizing that the game had paused). Suddenly overcome with guilt over playing a game that a cripple could not partake in, the gang started nervously shifting and coughing. Finally, Cameron stood up, the others following, and asked House what he wanted to do. Pulling his packages away from the sight of the others who were curiously trying to peek, House said that he had a project to work on, and that until it was done they were responsible for keeping each other busy. He was going to suggest a series of seemingly random hook-ups that were out of character and not well thought-out, but decided that it was over done, and he wouldn't stoop to that level. He then thought about who would pair up with Foreman, but quickly realized Foreman never got any loving, and would probably never get a real girlfriend—or boyfriend for that matter. House quickly forced the thought out of his head before things got weirder. He was pretty sure somewhere in the back of his mind he saw some foreplay involving Foreman in a hula skirt holding a flyswatter in one hand, and a toaster in the other, but he couldn't be sure.
Limping into his office and closing the door behind him, pulling down the blinds, House sat down at his computer and got to work, typing furiously. After a couple minutes, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Peeking through the blinds, House saw Taub, who was complaining that they 'were bored, and was he finished yet?' House went to his closet and pulled out a board game, sliding it under the door toward Kutner.
"Monopoly?" Taub asked, confused. "That game takes forever!"
Taub couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard House mumble that when the game was over, he would be ready for them. Reluctantly, Taub went back to the group, presenting them with the game.
By the time it was Saturday evening, everyone had been eliminated except for Cameron and Thirteen. The group had been playing Monopoly without ceasing since House had first presented Kutner with it Thursday afternoon, but they had of course filed for their overtime. Finally, when night had rolled around, House burst through his office door, a box under his arm. The others turned their attention toward him, but Cameron and Thirteen continued playing. Annoyed at their lack of attention, House took his cane and swung it across the board. The girls' heads shot up, and each glared angrily at House. "Cameron wins." House said, and used his cane to knock the board out of the way. When the group had quieted down, Thirteen pouting in the corner, House sat the box on the floor and sat down in the circle. From the box he pulled bags of food and drink, and oil lamps, which he lit and placed in the center of the circle, their light casting a soft glow across the room. He also pulled a book from the box, and began to speak.
"Ducklings, past and present, and Wilson, I now present you with my first novel, which we will take turns reading as a group."
Cameron was the most enthusiastic, leaning in towards House to peek at the cover. House had the vague feeling that Cameron was smelling him, when her voice broke his thoughts. "What type of book is it, House?"
"A mystery."
After a round of "oohs" and "aahs", led by Chase who had initially caught a glimpse of himself in the glass, House opened the first page and began to read.
"It was a dark and stormy night. A group of doctors were gathered in a hospital late one Friday night, waiting for a patient to come…"
"Well," Taub said, always a spoil sport, "we know it's not at our Hospital. We don't get patients on Fridays." Cameron and Wilson both shushed him, Cameron swinging her arm around to smack him on his head. Chase privately thought that Taub was lucky he had so little hair, otherwise it would have been all mussed up—Chase hated when that happened.
"House, you're on to a great idea. This is good for you. I don't want you to think I'm enabling you, because I'm done with that, but keep reading, it's great." Wilson said, Cameron nodding enthusiastically towards House. "Keep reading." House eyed Taub suspiciously before continuing.
"The doctors were an odd bunch of people. However, they happened to come in duplicate. There were the cynical doctors who liked to pretend they were more defiant and more intelligent than the others, but they were wrong just as often as anyone else. One was a troubled youth, who spent his childhood jacking cars and other such rebel rousing, only to discover later in life, no one loved him. His name was Snoreman. The other was a newly divorced plastic surgeon who cared little about the well being of the patients. His name was Snaub. Then there were the beauties—" Chase visibly perked up at this part. "Both were young, and deeply invested in the patient's well being, and carried a lot of weight on their petite shoulders. One was a brunette who was dying a little every day. Her name wasn't really Snirteen, but no one cared enough to pick up her damn file and figure out that her name was really Remy Hadley. The other was a dark brunette/light brunette/brunette/blonde/redhead? who despite a short attention span when it came to her hair color, had spent her twenties watching her husband die of brain cancer. She had some issues to work out, including her feelings towards her ruggedly handsome boss. Her name was Snameron. The group of doctors also included the dumb. These two had permanent indentations in their lips in the shape of their boss's ass—seems the diagnosis was too much ass kissing. One was a rich daddy's boy from Australia whose name was Snase. The other was a masochistic weirdo by the name of Snutner—"
"House," Thirteen interrupted. "Why the Hell do we all have 'Sn' in front of our names?"
"That would be to conceal your true identities," House responded irritably.
"They're us?" Chase asked, confused. Everyone ignored him, except Kutner, who patted him on the back.
"But what were the odds that there would be a group of doctors in a room whose names all began with 'Sn'?" Thirteen insisted.
"Maybe the boss hired them all by flipping a coin and hiring them alphabetically starting with 'Sn"," House said, eager to get to his description.
"You didn't really hire us like that, did you?" Chase asked. Everyone but Kutner, who whispered that it was a good question, continued to ignore him.
"Then, there were the leaders amongst the doctors by the names of James Watson, and Gregory Holmes. They were the only intelligent ones, and solved all the mysterious medical ailments. Now Holmes did all the real work with a most impressive fake British accent, but Watson was always there, helping mostly by being Holmes' partner." At this House and Wilson both blushed, as House hurriedly kept reading. Both had an irrational fear of fangirls popping out from between the couch cushions and squealing.
"She opened the door to find the body of Tritter lying strewn across the gurney, in the abandoned room, dead. There was no mistaking it this time. He had died in the same fashion as Vogler. It seemed whoever had killed Vogler had now killed his successor, Vogler 2.0. It seemed that although Vogler could have died from a blubber overdose, the thinner Tritter could not have— House, really!" Thirteen interrupted her reading, her voice angry. "I don't even know who Vogler and Tritter are, or what their real names are, but it's not right that you're writing about their deaths—no, murders—and you're also commenting on their weights!"
"House, I don't want you to think I'm enabling you, because I'm done with that, but this is a good outlet for you, it's great. I mean, if you want to write about your arch nemeses being murdered, and exploit it for our entertainment, then who am I to stop you? In fact, if you ever need an editor, I'll gladly help you," Wilson said.
Cameron was torn between her devotion to…erm appreciation of House, and her appreciation for human life: regardless of weight. She opted to take the opportunity to discuss her opinions on the case: no matter how obvious they were.
"I think Snase did it." Cameron said, hoping to diffuse the situation between her mini-me and the man she loved—er didn't love, just… admired? What she didn't expect was the reaction from everyone else.
"Snase?!" Taub said, "it's obviously not him! He's was brushing his hair when Tritter was threatening his career to House, he didn't know his job was in jeopardy, he had no motive. It was obviously Snirteen!"
"Why would you think it was her?!" Thirteen demanded, rising to her character's defense. "I think it was Snoreman. He would do anything to get ahead, and so killing Holmes' archenemies would have done just that, whether because he would have been promoted by Holmes, or because Holmes would have been framed. What makes you think it's me—er, Snirteen?"
"Snirteen is dying. Vogler's control over the hospital was meant to go towards research, but he had yet to spend a nickel towards finding a cure. She was desperate and frustrated," Taub reasoned.
"Well I think it's Snaub," Kutner said. "He pissed off Tritter, when he offered to do plastic surgery on Tritter."
"That makes no sense," said Foreman irritated. "If he pissed off Tritter, why would he kill Tritter?"
"Maybe he was trying to beat him to it," Kutner reasoned.
"What the Hell? Are you stoned or something? Are you about ready to go on some epic adventure for a cheeseburger?! " Taub shouted angrily.
"Hamburgers sound good," Chase said, patting Kutner on the back. "Let's go get some after work."
"Well you're all wrong," Foreman said, interrupting. "Just because she seems sweet, doesn't mean Snameron isn't the killer. She may have even killed before. We don't really know how her husband died. Maybe it was her first kill. She was in med school, she could have easily found some MRIs and used them as her husband's. Then, maybe she came to the hospital to find Holmes and marry him, so he could get another brain tumor, and she could get another check. But of course, Holmes had a problem—two to be exact in the form of Vogler and Tritter, and she would do anything to exterminate his problem so he would marry her."
"Snameron doesn't want to kill House, she loves him! Erm… I mean, she enjoys spending time with him. Anyway, Holmes was in his office while Tritter was in the clinic. He was avoiding him, remember. So Snameron was probably in the office helping him with paper work. She does that," Cameron said, haughtily.
"But she was in there the day after the first murder working on paperwork too!" Foreman insisted. "If she had been there the day of the murder working, why the hell did she need to come and work the next day?"
"Do you have any idea how much paper work there is to do?! It'll take her every day of the week to catch up with it if she lets it go for a day!", Cameron shouted.
"Chase," Kutner said, speaking above the crowd. "What do you think?"
"I think it's Snutner," Chase said.
"What the hell, man?!" Kutner shouted angrily.
"That's very interesting, Chase. Why do you think he did it?" Taub asked.
"Because no one else suspected him. The odds are good. Plus he's a great guy, and very nice to Snase. He even bought him that new comb when the patient spat blood on his old one, remember?" Kutner seemed to be the only one following Chase's train of thought, and was nodding furiously.
"Can I change my vote to what Chase said?" Kutner asked.
"NO!" Foreman shouted. "He has no theory whatsoever! His idea is based off of his gambling odds, which don't exist—don't even think about starting them—and how much he likes the character."
Suddenly bickering broke out amongst the group, with House quietly observing while Wilson pleaded in his ear to tell him who the murder was.
"Holmes, with the help of Watson, gathered the group around the office," House read. "As he approached the group of doctors, he popped some Vicodin and began to limp around the office. 'Now, as you all can see,' he said pointing at the whiteboard, 'each of you have motive and opportunity—even if that opportunity is simply a lack of intelligence,' he added, looking pointedly at Snase and Kutner. 'However, due to my deductive reasoning, and my brilliant sidekick, Jimmy the Boy Wonder, I've been able to deduce who the one and only one murder is. And so, without further brilliant wrap up the killer is—"
"Wilson, the last page is yours," House said, handing the book over.
Wilson turned the page, and the entire room held their breath.
"HOUSE!" Wilson screamed. "The last page has been torn out! You wrote the damn thing! You ripped it out!"
Suddenly the room erupted with a fit of yelling.
"RELAX!" House bellowed over the roar of his angry audience. "There is a way you can get the last page."
"How?" Wilson asked.
"Go to this website and mess around until you find something," he said, passing around slips of papers with a website on them.
The group rushed out, eager to get to a computer to solve the mystery.
Hours later, they reconvened, one at a time. Each looking around angrily for the man who couldn't be found. When they were all present, House suddenly emerged, wincing as the sound of seven angry doctors pierced his ears.
"House, before we kill you, I just have to know: how the hell did you make such a complex website and write a book in the time it took us to play a game of Monopoly?" Taub asked.
"Well, if I can solve medical mysteries in a one hour period, complex mysteries that involve seizures and MRIs that are practically unheard of, and cannot be solved by the average medical genius, why couldn't I do all that with far more time?"
"Funny how Princeton seems to attract medical cases that only happened a couple other times in obscure locations, but we get them every week." If anyone had said it other than Chase, it may have caused the group to give it some serious thought, but as it turns out, no one other than Kutner gave any thought to what he said.
"Anyway, House," Thirteen asked. "What's the meaning of this? After I spend hours trying to figure out this ridiculously complicated website, I finally get that last page, and all it says is "at that moment, before he could get the words out, rocks fell down and killed them all—the murder included."
"Yes, that sounds about right," House said, stretching out.
"Well, it's unacceptable," Foreman said. "You can't expect us to waste our time working out who exactly the murder was in some stupid book you wrote—no matter how impressively quick, when there is no resolution. Especially if you can't manage to make someone give two shits about me in your book! It's fiction House, it doesn't have to be inspired by truth! It's make-believe! And if you don't tell us who the hell the murder is, we'll all quit again"
"Look, House, I don't want you to think I'm enabling you, because I'm done with that, but it seems to me you're screwed, and you have a room full of people ready to quit and leave you all alone, so let me see if I've got this right, and can save your ass. You see, what really happened was that everyone had a motive, but there was only one killer—"
"And that killer was of course Snameron," Foreman said.
"Wrong!" Wilson supplied, pacing the room now. "Cameron, didn't kill her husband, and she certainly didn't want to kill House. She loves him—"
"AHEM!" Cameron coughed.
"No, well Cameron doesn't love House she just um appreciates his brilliance, no she just—oh screw it! Cameron loves House lets just say it. We all know it's true. No sense trying to hide it, and therefore wouldn't give up an opportunity to work in the same room as him."
"Snameron," Thirteen supplied.
"Yeah, yeah. Her too. Anyway, she didn't kill them—in fact none of us did!"
Everyone gasped together.
"They didn't!?"
"No. In fact, it was that last person you would have ever suspected, because the killer was so obvious, it was ignored. And that killer was Lupus Cuddy!"
"It's Lupus!?"
"Yes! You see, she had started gambling, figured she might put her Solitaire skills to good work, but had fallen into debt. Crazed, she was desperate to win her money back. But there was just one problem: Vogler and Tritter were causing problems in the hospital, and causing her to get involved more. This time spent dealing with the two was time spent not trying to win her money back. So she killed them."
Everyone sat back in amazement, and Chase initiated another round of "oohs" and "aahs" accidentally by catching a glimpse of himself again. Suddenly, House whispered something in Wilson's ear.
"Oh yes, then rocks fell and killed them all."
House nodded his approval.
The group groaned.
But, as is typical, House got the last word.
"At least they died knowing who the murder was."