Chapter #3- kill all patients

Disclaimer: I own nothing, despite how much I wish I did own something.

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The man was trying to pull his damn finger off.

"I can't…get…my ring…off," he panted. "I think you might have to saw it off the thing off. My wife will be so mad at me!"

"Actually, I think I have a much better solution," House drawled, trying and failing to suppress a yawn, "Stop Trying! You don't even have a ring on your finger."

"But that white line around my finger…that's gotta be a ring!" The man protested.

"Ooooops, I guess this makes my diagnosis a bit more expensive," House looked to be half-asleep, "You need glasses! You are trying to pull a tan line off your finger. My guess is that your real ring fell off in the shower a little while ago. My condolences when explaining this to your wife."

When the patient made no move to leave, House continued, "You need an ophthalmologist, and that's not me." The patient still didn't move, so House left him, limping out of the room so fast that it looked more like it really was: fleeing.

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House's next patients were a family. A mom, a newborn, a two-year-old boy, and a three-year-old boy. It looked horrible. That woman really had to stop having so many damn kids. Maybe all she really needed was a doctors encouraging advice.

"You know, I think that you should start practicing safe sex or get on the pill. Or you could just smother them right when they're born, make it look like a stillbirth." The mom stared at him, eyes wide. "As for the toddlers, well, you could pretend that you forgot them, leave them in the car, and starve them to death." The mom's mouth dropped open.

"Get…away…from my…angles," She stammered.

Ooooooops, he never had been very good at the kind, encouraging sort of advice. The patients just always took it the wronge way. Ah, well. He would give it one last try.

"Angles of death, maybe, but not of much else. You know, if the world gets too overpopulated, some big killer virus is gonna come out and kill us all."

She started to growl "Get…out…of…here…and…get…me…a…different… doctor."

"Oooooooo, I think I touched a nerve," House muttered, limping quickly out of the room. "I still don't see why she wouldn't want to kill the little boogers."

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These patients were really horrible, House thought. He wasn't sure if he could take many more of them. Well, without going insane. He really hated them. Really, really, really, hated them very very much.

"Gosh, screw my job, I'm going to see the thirty-one-year-old female and hope she's slightly more interesting.
In defiance, while walking by Cuddy's office he opened the door and yelled in, feeling sort-of drunk; "Give me interesting work, or give me the boot!"

Cuddy just stared at him, thinking that he had drunk too much scotch while trying to keep his mind off his patients. Which was, in fact, completely plausible.

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AN: Sorry it really short chapter, but me hopes U likeee. And that yous all review. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaassssssssssssssssseeeeee?