A/N: Don't you hate it when commercial jingles get stuck in your head? This is what happens. Not that great, but hey, I wrote it, so I'm posting it.
Disclaimer: Don't own House. I think I'm going to have a stamp made.
GHMDGHMDGHMD
Cuddy was walking down the hall towards the Diagnostics department when she started to hear something…strange.
"Oh I wish I were an Oscar Meyer wiener," it was coming from more than one voice, and it sounded as if these singers had…their noses plugged? She slowed down and peeked around the corner.
Sure enough, the three of them were sitting at the conference table, Chase with his feet up, Foreman with a cup of coffee in his other hand, and Cameron actually sitting on the table, trying not to laugh as she sang.
Cuddy shook her head and proceeded towards them. She opened the door quietly and interrupted. "Doctor Chase. Doctor Cameron. Doctor Foreman," she said through a strained smile, "Maybe I should find the three of you new assignments. One House is enough." They stared at her with wide-eyed innocence until she finally left the room.
Wilson stepped out from behind the bookcase where he'd been hiding. "Okay guys, you got me," he said sheepishly and handed them each a fifty.
The End