I hope you don't mind if I ramble about my personal life for a moment, because I'm going to. See, I have had this annoying affinity towards a certain young man for a little over a year, now. He knows and all, and it has never interfered with our friendship. But a couple weeks ago, I was in a holiday spirit stupor and wound up being brazenly obvious about it all, which unquestionably made him uncomfortable. Now he's kind of awkward and silent around me, which really hurts, not because of my feelings towards him, but because he's one of my closest friends. Isn't the whole situation just plain pathetic? I can't wait to get over this hormonal teen phase. Alright, I'm okay, now. On with the chapter.

"This is a dangerous task," House warned. His soldiers had lined up shoulder to shoulder in the cramped elevator. "You could die, men-"

"And woman!" Cameron piped up in a chipper tone. House glared at her, and she immediately shut the fuck up.

"It won't be easy," the older doctor continued, "but I believe you will prevail!" The eyes of the other doctors glimmered with determination and motivation. Wilson and Chase withdrew their pocket combs and purposefully combed their hair; they had a mission, and by God, they would finish it. "You are rough! You are tough! You are-"

Ding. The elevator doors slid open fluidly, exposing the bustling hospital lobby, patients milling to and fro as was the norm. Yet, it was quieter than usual. Something was so, so wrong. House narrowed his eyes and, stepping as silently as possible, beckoned his colleagues to follow him as he made his way to Cuddy's darkened office. He sniffed his nose warily and turned to his crew.

"Something's fishy."

"You mean our situation seems suspicious?" Foreman asked, furrowing his brow.

"If that's what I meant, I would have said it," House sassed. "No, this smells fishy... This smells like... like... the menstruation of a thousand unsatisfied women."

"Very good, Dr. House." The fellowship looked around to see that the patients had begun to remove wigs and masks, revealing that they were, in fact, Cuddy's notorious minions. Head Nurse Brenda walked through the crowd smugly and smirked at House. "You know what we want. Give them back."

"Give what back?" House replied innocently. "Are you accusing us of taking something? Because that would just be unethical!" Brenda grit her teeth and let out a feral growl. This cocky bastard was scratching at her very last nerve.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," she hissed. "The easy way is you give back those pills right now. The hard way is I peel your scrotum like an apple." The diagnostician paused and stared at his opposer for a moment, mouth round in disgust.

"Or... I can just do this." With that, House swiped Brenda's feet from beneath her with his cane. "ATTACK!" And all hell was unleashed.

Chase and Wilson busied themselves with flooding the room with dazzling smiles and seductive hair tosses, sending attacking nurses swooning in every which direction. It seemed that they held the advantage against the onslaught of angry bosom-bearing fiends... until one nurse brushed aside their attacks and continued to advance on them.

"Oh no!" Wilson muttered in dismay, as the nurse bared her teeth. "It's a lesbian!" Chase dropped his hands from where they had been caressing his nipples and gaped in horror.

"A lesbian? B-but I thought they were just an urban legend!" Wilson shook his head sadly at their impending doom.

"With our charm rendered useless, there's no hope for us. I guess this is goodbye, Chase."

"I'm too pretty to die," Chase sobbed. "My silky golden locks have yet to establish a solid legacy!" The two men squeezed their eyes shut in dismay and prepared for a horrifying mauling, as she drew closer and closer...

"Noo!" Cameron suddenly lunged from behind a potted plant and lashed out with her mighty spear of mangled steel.

"Ah, fuck!" the lesbian screamed. "An immunologist, my only weakness! How did you know?" With that, she disappeared into the crowd of nurses angrily. Cameron flipped her hair over her shoulder and straightened her lab coat.

"Are you both alright?" Wilson and Chase gawked at their savior and nodded stupidly. How come they never got to do anything cool like that...? There was House beating people with his cane and swinging Steve McQueen by the tail, smacking a random nurse in the face, and Foreman shooting his Nerf gun with absolute precision. Darn it, why didn't the pretty ones get weapons? The oncologist and the intensivist were pulled from their thoughts by a cry from their ringleader.

"Retreat!" House screamed. "Get to the elevator!" Limping over with as much speed as he could muster, he pushed the elevator button with his cane. The elevator began to descend from the top floor. Five, four... "This is taking too long!" Three... The nurses were advancing closer and closer now, knowing their prey had no escape. Two... Foreman stepped between the fellowship and their opposers, raising his Nerf gun. He took a deep breath; this was for the good of the team.

"SUCK MY GLOCK!" Foreman crowed, shooting wildly at the flock of angry nurses with his Nerf gun. Quickly running out of ammo, he was overtaken by the sea of cushiony-chested women. One...

"No! Foreman!" Chase screamed, extending an arm in the neurologist's general direction, as he was pulled into the elevator. Foreman poked his head out from beneath the restraining arms, gasping for breath.

"G-go without me!" he wailed. "Don't let me down!" Then the elevator doors closed. House turned to his team with a somber expression. He knew what they had to do.

"We need a plan. We need to outsmart them." Leading the group out from the elevator back into the diagnostic room on the third floor, House drew a layout of the hospital on the whiteboard. "We need a way to get past the nurses. Otherwise, there's no way to reach Cuddy's office." He drew a circle around the lobby. "This is our problem. Now, I know how to distract Cuddy's army long enough to get past them. Just follow my lead." House recapped the marker and began to hobble into the hallway.

"That's it?" Wilson screamed. "That's your genius plan?" House turned to stare at his colleague.

"Uh, yeah," he uttered, tilting an eyebrow testily. He paused in confusion. That was odd; Cameron was usually the one to scold him, first, ranting about preparation and ethics and stuff. House looked around the room, wondering where his embodied voice of conscience had gone. "...Cameron?"

The immunologist stood in a corner, moving her lips wordlessly.

"I killed a man just to watch him die," Cameron said in a hollow whisper. Trembling, she raised her stained hands and the glistening weapon to her face. "W-what have I done?" House rubbed his forehead in exasperation and limped over to her. Taking one of her hands, he began to rub it with one of his coat sleeves.

"Cameron, it's ink. You must have slashed open one of their pens." Cameron blinked down at her fingers and looked almost disappointed.

"The ink is sticky..." she muttered blankly. "Soap... I need soap..." House and the rest of the team watched blankly at she stumbled away into the ladies' room.

"There's no time to wait for her!" House cried melodramatically. "We must move on!" Thus with this declaration, the fellowship ditched Cameron. As if they hadn't been waiting for the perfect opportunity. Right.

"I wanna hold the pills!" Chase proclaimed in a pleading and obnoxious tone, nipping at House's heels with the toes of his shoes. He shook his shoulders and let out a high-pitched whine at House's dubious expression. "I'll take real good care of them!" he whinged. House sighed with annoyance and tossed the small bottle to the wombat, who squealed with joy.

"Fine, just shut up. You lose them and I'll beat you." Suddenly, the power went out in a droning flash, rendering their preferred method of transportation useless. "Oh great, they're trying to trap us." After a moment's silence, realization washed over House in a wave of dread. The nurses were smarter than he thought; knowing he could not use the stairs efficiently, they'd trapped him in his own domain. They were coming to get him! Sure enough, the remaining fellowship heard the door to the stairwell burst open, the sound of nurse shoes resounding threateningly on the tiles. As their eyes adjusted slightly to the dark, the three doctors could see the silhouette shapes of ominous women surrounding them. The nurses drew closer to their victims. They were hungry for vengeance.

"Wait!" House screamed, causing the nurses to pause in their advance. "Look, it's Dr. Wilson!" Wilson's mouth dropped open in horror at his friend's declaration. Little did he know that his own innocent action would be the cause of his downfall. It was a well-known fact that Dr. Wilson possessed teeth that surpassed perfection. As he exposed his teeth in the process of dropping his jaw, his glorious incisors shone brilliantly, slicing through the darkness and lighting him up like a glow stick. The nurses immediately diverted their attention away from the two remaining members of the diagnostic team and squealed excitedly at the sight of the wide-eyed oncologist, flocking to him like a swarm of moths drawn to a flame. Chase closed his eyes and mouthed a silent prayer, as Wilson was mauled by the horde of nurses, scraps of clothing flying in various directions.

"Why?" Wilson sobbed, amidst fruitless attempts to dodge puckered lips, "Why have you forsaken me?" The oncologist was dragged unwillingly into a conveniently placed storage closet, where the nurses did unspeakable things to their prey.

House stood silently in the hall, in the instant following his friend's capture. He had managed to save Chase and himself, at the expense of another man's dignity, but what now? As if to answer his thoughts, the lights flickered back on that very minute, revealing a horrifying (albeit slightly disturbing) sight: In the glare of the harsh fluorescent lights, Chase froze, eyes wide, the bottle of fertility drugs raised to his lips. An awkward silence settled over the two doctors for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Chase wailed, attempting to gather his wits, "I just wanted to try them!" House snatched at the orange bottle and, with Chase still hanging on desperately in an attempt to reach the pills, began to limp towards the elevator. The elevator proved to be a slight problem, however, for Chase's sprawled and writhing form kept the doors from closing completely. Each time House pounded on the "close doors" button, the young blonde sobbed harder at the impact of metal doors against the sides of his ribs.

"The pain," he wheezed, "it hurts so good!" Rolling his eyes, House whacked Chase with his cane until the intensivist withdrew from the threshold, back into the hallway.

"I guess it's just us, Steve," House whispered dramatically to the rat on his shoulder. "It's up to us."

To be continued