A/N: Gahh, yes, I know it's been forever. I blame procrastination. (Procrastination: It's like masturbation. It starts off good, but then you realize you've just fucked yourself.) I've also been kinda busy too, so...

Erm... I don't own it, yadda yadda yadda and all that jazz.

As we begin this chapter, we come upon a ghastly scene. The loft is dark and silent. A thin layer of dust coats the room. The room's occupants are motionless, save for the two strange girls. Becky and Sammy are seated on the floor, hunched over a blank notebook…

"What do I do?" Becky asked, glancing to Sammy.

"Well, you left the last chapter at a cliffhanger. Why not bring back the plot slowly and we'll work from there?"

"Well… ok…"

Slowly, the rest of the gang began to move. "What the—cough cough—fuck happened?!" Roger asked as he unhinged his aching jaw.

"Eww! There was a spider in my mouth!" Maureen squealed, and rushed over to the sink to vomit.

"Um, sorry guys. That was my bad. I had a lot of stuff to do, and then I kinda had a little Writer's Block… and procrastination didn't help much, either. Don't worry, though. Sammy's helping me through it." Becky hopped off the floor. "Let's get started where we left off, yeah?" She shuffled over to Joanne's unconscious form on the table and picked a cobweb out of her hair.

"Um… where were we, anyway?" Mark spoke up as he brushed dust off of his scarf.

"Uhh… I'm not really sure…"

Everyone looked around, unsure of what to do.

"Sammy, a little help here?"

Sammy sighed and tugged at a strand of hair absently. "Well, normally House and his ducklings would go through a bunch of symptoms and try to figure out the cause. However, since you don't have any actual medical knowledge, and the ducklings aren't actually here, I suggest you skip that whole deal and move on to an actual diagnosis, whether it's correct or not."

Becky blinked. "Right! So, guys, we've got fever, swelling, rapid heartbeat, and a rash. Anything else?"

Sammy smacked herself in the head. "Way to go against everything I just told you."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Ow… my head is killing me…"

Everyone turned to Joanne, who had just woken up. Maureen rushed to her side. "Pookie!"

House limped close behind. "Do you know where you are?"

"Of course. I'm in the loft."

"Do you remember your name?" House pulled out a penlight and shone it in her eyes.

"Hey, Sammy, is it 'shone,' or is it 'shined?'"

"Fuck if I know."

Becky wrote, House pulled out a penlight and shined it into her eyes. "Gah, they both sound wrong!"

"Ahem!" House glared over at Becky.

"Sorry…"

Joanne glanced over at Becky and Sammy. Sammy gave a half-assed wave and Becky grinned stupidly.

"So, you've got a headache. Anything else?" House brought the attention back to Joanne.

"Well… I'm a little hungry. I wasn't actually able to finish my lunch."

"Great! I'm starving!"

"House!" Cuddy glared.

"What?"

Mark put on his coat. "I'll get us some lunch. Chinese, anyone?"

Everyone nodded in agreement. Mark grabbed his bike and carried it out the door. Sammy leaned close to Becky and whispered, "How is he supposed to pay for food?"

Becky snorted. "This is fanfiction. Does it matter?"

"Eh. You've got a point."

Pause. Everyone looked around because the author was unsure of what to make them do while they waited for Mark to return.

Five minutes pass.

"Oh, I wish I was an Oscar Meyer wiener…"

Sammy glared at Becky.

"Sorry…"

Another minute.

"They say a man should always dress for the job he wants, so why am I dressed up like a pirate in this restaurant?"

"…what is your dysfunction?"

Becky grinned. "The Free Credit Report commercials!"

Sammy looked confused.

"Never mind… damn Canadians," Becky whispered.

"What was that?"

"I love you."

(Author's Note: I think Canadians are pretty awesome. Sammy, don't hurt me.)

(Beta/Sammy's Note: We actually get those commercials in Canada… on the US channels. We aren't sheltered, don't worry.)

(Author's Note: LIES!)

Four more minutes pass before Sammy gets tired of Becky's jingles and hits her over the head with a fish.

Yeah, I'm not really sure where she got the fish from…

BAM! The loft door flew open.

"Did they follow me?! Am I safe?!"

"…um …Mark?"

"I didn't have money to pay for the food so I had to skip out. Those Chinese people run fast!"

Sammy turned to Becky. "You know, I'm pretty sure you just insulted two ethnicities in ten minutes."

Becky grinned. "I know! I'm so excited!" Her eye twitched and the notebook in her hand shook a little.

"Are… you ok?"

"I'm sorry! I'M SORRY! It's the caffeine! You KNOW what caffeine does to me!" Becky sobbed.

Roger took this time to quietly dump out the rest of Becky's coffee. Her eye twitched again.

"…oooookkkkkk. Let's try to concentrate, alright? Let's just all eat our lunch so we can move on with the plot. We've already lingered on this far too long."

The author doesn't feel like performing the tedious task of describing the bohos eat, but let's just say Kung Pow Chicken somehow ended up on the ceiling and Collins will have rice in his ears for the next three months.

Mmm. Chicken. I want some chicken.

"How's that headache of yours?" Wilson asked Joanne, because this author felt bad for ignoring him. Well, that and Sammy would probably assault said author with a plastic spork if she didn't include Wilson.

"It's a little better. My stomach's a little queasy, though."

Cuddy got up from her seat to check Joanne's temperature. "You've still got a fever."

With that, Joanne threw up all over the floor and passed out.

"…way to go, Cuddy. Way to go."

"Ew."

Becky stepped forward. "I'm guessing that wasn't because of the Mushu Pork?"

TBC

Don'thurtmeI'msorryIleftitatacliffieahhhh!!!! I know, it was short, but I still have no idea where I want to go from here. I'm just wingin' it.

-Twisted