House of Pickles
First, allow me to say that I needed to change some stuff to make this story better, it didn't flow properly. Now it's better, though! Yay!
A/N: This is what happens when I lock myself in my room for :goes to check calendar: 7 weeks and three days…beware my evil hyper-ness!
Disclaimer: The Dixie Chicks, Harry Potter, or House. But I do own pickles; muahahahaha!
Summery: House Parodies + Evil Pickles, you do the math…
Rating: T, 'cause I want to! No, really because of mild swearing and SC, if you don't know what that means, don't read it…blah-blah-blah.
Special Thanks: Special Thanks goes to the lovely lady miss HouseCat, for her permission of letting me use her line in A Housy Tale, and for the inspiration of Chase, also in A Housy Tale (I basically made minor changes to her descriptions…think fluffy blue fairy costumes). So, a round of applause to HouseCat! Raucous cheers are heard in the background
PS: Yes I like those three little dot things, aka … I think it's cool...I don't have a problem! Or do I…
Yes, it is I the incredibly clichéd narrator…fear me! I use my clichéd-ness to interrupt the characters whenever I feel the need (now in Bold!)…beware my awesome power. I also have the tendency to argue with the second narrator in Italics…anyway, enough of that, and on to the story!
The story starts in House's house I love that pun! Shut up! Anyways, where he is trying to open the dreaded jar of pickles! I said, shut up! That's my job to be the narrator, whilst yours is to add in that annoyingly funny humor that all parody/humor readers love (or possibly hate). The times have changed! Snorts in a repulsive manner Yeah, right! Now ANYWAYS, House is in his tiny kitchen trying to open that jar of pickles to go with his delicious peanut-butter and corned beef sandwich Eww, that's disgusting! Hey, no one said that he was a good cook! To continue, he was trying hard to open his pickles with all of his grumpy-but-still-hot man-strength YOU like House! Ha-ha! You like House! You like House continues chanting in a singsong voice for about three minutes until spotting a shiny button SO? He's my idol… :sighs, then snaps out of it: Ahem. Sorry about that, anyhow House was trying with all his might to open the pickle jar, but it refused to budge it's evil glass jar-ness.
"Nooo! Pickles, I beseech your dill good-ness, but why must you tempt me this way? Why Sorry, I was just reading Entertainment Weekly for the House article on the cover, it's awesome! can I not just open you and your delicious, good, wonderful pickle taste?"
And then, he started to cry. He started to cry? Isn't that a little overdramatic? I suppose so…how's this – hey wait a minute! You can't just tell me what to do! What do you think I am a piece of meat? Jeez, sorry I was just trying to help Sorry sniffs, I'm a little sensitive about that kind of thing. :Out of earshot of narrator number one but so that the reader(s) can hear, because after all, as HouseCat once said, "oppressed servant girls or narrators need humor in their lives, or else they will dissolve into rags, soapy knees and meek expressions," or maybe that wouldn't apply… : - you can say that again! Okay, now House WAS crying, because all men have to cry sometime in their lives, and in this particular story House is a lot more sensitive than the average man. Women everywhere are - :(Suddenly, House appears in the screening room (or wherever the narrators are narrating):
"Can you stop droning on and get back to the star of the show?"
Sure, fine… :looks very taken aback for a while, then shakes head experimentally: - Hrmm-hrmm. Right. Okay. Story…oh yeah. So, House is crying about this pickle dilemma, when he suddenly remembers that he has Harry Potter book 5 in his room, a necessity to any conceded, self-centered doctor with several possible worst enemies/pickles jars that refuse to be opened. How can you open your worst enemies? Gawd, you're dense sometimes…it's the pickle jars that refuse to be opened, not the worst enemies! House immediately runs to his room to find the book, and clunks his head on an extremely rude doorway saying…
"Doorway, you need to be less rude. Before you know it, you'll need an operation on your leg!"
After cursing to himself about this doorway dilemma Before you know it, you'll be turning into Lemony Snicket. For God's sake, just shut up for once! House opened the door, grabbed Harry Potter Book 5 off of his bookshelf, opened the door back up, ran back to the kitchen, skidded to a halt at the pickle jar, and started hitting it with Harry Potter Book 5. Did you really need to explain that so thoroughly? Of course I did! OK, then. Because House has no common sense whatsoever, he thought that clearly the pickle jar should open after this violently brutal attack. It seems that his attempts were to no avail. As he was sitting at a conveniently placed chair, the song Cold Day in July by the Dixie Chicks wafted in through the doorway. Oh, so now it's a musical, eh? No, it's just a sound track. You should read the dictionary more often. :Flips hair jauntily: Fine, whatever…like I even care :sniffs: . Right then. At this point in time, the phone rings, and House says,
"The phone! I should answer it while this commonly-mistaken-for-country-but-is-actually-southern-rock song plays eerily in the distance."
Which, in an odd streak of predictableness that technically is unpredictable because House is generally unpredictable and doesn't do what he says he's going to do but he's doing what he says he's going to do which is unpredictable for House, and what's predictable for most people is unpredictable to House, and the normally House-predictable-like thing to do is to be unpredictable, so therefore he is still being unpredictable but in a different way than he normally is. It took you that long just to prove yourself wrong? Yeah, pretty much. Well, once the idiot box decides to shut up, we can get back to the story! Fine then! I will. But not because you told me to, because I need to help the common public become bored out of their minds. :Rolls eyes empathetically: Now then. House ends up answering the phone.
"Elvis, is that you?"
(The underlined is the other speaker.)
"No, House, but thankyouverymuch."
"Well then, who are you, anonymous Elvis impersonator?"
"'Tis I, Cuddy!"
"Why, Cuddy you do a very sexy Elvis impersonation! Can you do Kiera Knightely, too?"
"Well certainly but that will cost you. Anyways, there is a problem at the hospital. Chase has decided to hire monkeys as his "playmates" and they have escaped into the hospital! Only your wit and sarcastic remarks can save us now!"
"Alas, Cuddy I would love to tear sex-monkeys away from Chase, but there are more important things at stake."
"What could that possibly be?"
"My pickle jar refuses to be opened! Nothing can stop its pickle-jarred horrors!"
"You're right, that is much more important than Chase and his monkey-pimps! I shall be over immediately!"
True enough, before House could even hang up the phone, Cuddy was standing in a very slinky number in front of the car. At this point in time, House was gaping (literally, his mouth was open and everything.) at Cuddy, the pickle jar was laughing evilly to itself, and Chase was having fun with the monkeys at the hospital. TBC! Was it really necessary to add that? Do you always have to have the last word? Well, I am narrator number one – Okay cut it out! I need to A/N this thing and get it on the internet already!
A/N: Finally, it took so long to get those two to shut up. Anyways review review review! I will give you a cyber-fruitcake if you do. If you don't, my friend currently has a book checked out of the library about mid-evil torture devices, and I may have to borrow it one of these days. PS: Hope you liked it 'cause I did! (By the way, if you want to know what the theme song for House is, it's "Teardrop" by Massive Attack. The song for the last episode at the very end was "You Can't Always Get What You Want" by The Rolling Stones. (Rolling Stones Rock!))