We open on what I'm assuming are the ivy-covered walls of Princeton. A student, Brandon, calls in sick to work, really overdoing it with a long list of seemingly unrelated symptoms like a "slight" fever, cough, and stomach ache. But his boss buys it, and Brandon gets a day off work. He triumphantly returns to bed, and we see he has some company there; a self-described "horny girl." I don't know why she had to tell us that when it's so obvious, what with the granny panties and oversize t-shirt she's sporting. She jumps on top of Brandon and starts kissing him. Hey, buddy: if you're too sick to work, then you're too sick to have sex, aren't you? He does protest that he wasn't lying about the cough and doesn't think they should kiss in case he gives it to her. Girlfriend says she has "no interest" in kissing. I just realized why Brandon is so familiar to me: he was that adorable little boy Air Bud! You know, the movie where that sad boy with the recently deceased father found a friend in a stray golden retriever that was good at basketball? A heartwarming film for the whole family to enjoy! And what's Brandon doing now? Oh...he's having loud sex with his girlfriend. I guess everyone has to grow up sooner or later.
This sex scene was controversial, and I can certainly see why: girlfriend is fully-clothed. "How did she have sex with her clothes on?" Viewers must have asked each other, "and why? Does she have body issues? Is this how the kids are doing safe sex these days?" There is a lot to discuss here. As the headboard pounds against the walls, knocking pictures askew and pencil holders off the nightstand, I have to think it's also a source of controversy amongst those who are unfortunate enough to share a wall with this guy's room. And god forbid he has a roommate. The "wild" sex concludes, and Brandon's eyes bug out just a little too much before he slumps on top of his girlfriend. Girlfriend initially takes Brandon's passing out as a testament to her sexual prowess, but starts to get worried when Brandon is unresponsive. When she flips him over, we see that he is still wearing his boxer shorts, like, if you're going to insert an unnecessary sex scene into your show to get ratings, you can at least try to make it look like the characters actually had sex. Girlfriend shakes Brandon, her naggy voice repeating his name over and over again and carrying outside, where the rest of the student population hear the girl they've come to refer to as "Miss Loudinthesack" calling out her boyfriend's name over and over again, figure she's going for another round, and roll their eyes.
I love this theme song. But why is Jennifer Morrison (a.k.a. Cameron) the only cast member who doesn't get a medical image with her name? Even the opening credits editors don't respect Cameron's medical abilities.
When we return, Girlfriend (a.k.a. Mindy, best known to Days of Our Lives fans as the recently departed Cassie) holds Brandon's hand as he struggles to breathe in the ER. His skin is all rashy and sweaty.
Wilson tells House about this cool new case he found down in the ER. House fakes like he's not going to take the case, but then agrees to check it out, because he's intrigued by the fact that Brandon's BP isn't responding to IV fluids and also if he didn't, we wouldn't have a show. As House steps into the elevator (drink!), he says that Brandon's BP issues are "weird." Also weird is the small old lady standing just behind him who insists on looking up at the ceiling the entire time.
Brandon's symptoms are written on the whiteboard. They're the same as the ones he told his boss about to get out of work, so either he actually wasn't lying, or karma just gave him a big kick in the ass. House explains that the lab tests haven't given them any information about Brandon's problems, and asks the Cottages for suggestions on what is wrong with "her." Cameron --who is once again on whiteboard writing duty (she was totally the kid in your class who volunteered for secretary duties during group projects while the rest of the group silently thanked God they didn't get stuck doing it) -- gently reminds House that Brandon is a boy. House says it doesn't matter unless his problem is testicular in nature. I think House set that whole thing up just to say "testicular" to Cameron. Not like he really needs an elaborate set-up to be able to say things like that in this Mysteriously Free of Sexual Harassment Policy Enforcement Work Environment.
Chase and Foreman make a few suggestions as to what ails Brandon (one of them being -- say it with me now -- vasculitis) but none of the Cottages can think of one condition that fits all of Brandon's symptoms. House says that's great, because it means Brandon doesn't have anything wrong with him and can be discharged from the hospital right away. Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today -- that side being the one without the giant bottle of Vicodin on the nightstand. House says that their most pressing issue right now is to get Brandon's BP under control before it kills him. He prescribes a crapload of antibiotics to treat Brandon for sepsis just in case that's what he has. Which, of course, it isn't, and I'd like to thank House for being part of the reason why the dreaded Superbug will soon kill us all. House and those anti-bacterial hand soaps.
Chase and Foreman get to work doing all kinds of tests on Brandon, who still has that nasty cough on top of all his other problems, while Mindy hovers over them and criticizes their style. She wants them to treat Brandon, not test him! Foreman curtly responds that they can't treat Brandon until their tests tell them what he needs to be treated for. Unless you're Dr. House.
Speaking of whom, House reports to clinic duty with all the non-enthusiasm he can muster. Cuddy's already there, and reprimands him for being late. House says he had a busy caseload. "One case is not a 'load,'" Cuddy says. House gives her a look that says he'd like to drop a load on her face. He asks if they're well-supplied on Q-tips today, volunteering to "run home" if they need any extra. I wonder what House does at home that he would need such an abundant supply of cotton swabs. Tongue depressors I could understand, because you can build things out of them. Maybe he has overactive cerumen glands. Cuddy just takes one look at House's BAD LEG and snaps that he really couldn't "run" home, could he? "...Niiiice," House says, then proceeds to exact his revenge by limping over to the waiting room and giving the following speech to its occupants, which you really have to watch to get the full awesomeness of but I'll try my best to capture it in a transcription: "Hello, sick people and their loved ones! In the interest of saving time and avoiding a lot of boring chit-chat later, I'm Dr. Gregory House. You can call me 'Greg(g).' I'm one of three doctors staffing the clinic this morning." Cuddy, her "what the fuck is he doing now?!" face in full effect, tries to cut the intros short, but House will not be stopped: "This ray of sunshine is Dr. Lisa Cuddy. Dr. Cuddy runs this whole hospital, so unfortunately she's much too busy to deal with you. I am a BOARD...certified diagnostician with a double specialty of infectious disease and nephrology. I'm also the only doctor currently employed at this clinic who's forced to be here against his will. That is true, isn't it?" And here he looks back at Cuddy, who doesn't answer because she's too busy organizing the files so that House gets all the really nasty cases. "But not to worry, because for most of you, this job could be done by a monkey with a bottle of Motrin. Speaking of which, if you're particularly annoying, you may see me reach for this: this is Vicodin. It's mine. You can't have any [well, unless you're one of the many patients House tosses a few pills to]. And no, I do not have a pain-management problem, I have a pain problem. But who knows? Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm too stoned to tell [here he makes a crazy man face]. So, who wants me?" There are no volunteers. "And who would rather wait for one of the other two guys?" That would be everyone. House says he'll be hanging out in exam room one if anyone changes his mind, and limps off. Cuddy steps up and calls for Jodi Matthews. A meek-looking woman stands up. Cuddy instructs her to go to Exam Room 1. The expression on Jodi's face upon hearing this news is priceless.
Mindy runs up to Chase and apologizes for her earlier behavior; she's just worried about Brandon and thinks this could all be her fault. You see, she thinks her "rough" sex is what made Brandon so sick. The friction of her cotton shirt rubbing against him may well have caused those rashes, but that's about it. Keep thinking you're that awesome in bed though, Mindy.
Jodi Matthews says she had some yellow-colored mucus last week, and has brought in one of those paint swatches you get at The 'Pot (a.k.a. Home Depot) to show House the exact color: pale goldenrod. Jodi asks if she should be worried. "Oh yes! Very," House says. But more about the status of her employment than that of her mucus. You see, Jodi is about to get fired. "You're not a very nice doctor, are you?" Jodi understatement of the years. House explains that he can see that Jodi has been taking advantage of her job's health insurance before it is taken away; he noticed her new glasses and nice, white teeth. Me, I'd think she brushed and flossed regularly and took good care of the things that enabled her to see the world, but that's me. House is House, and he's right. "I just don't like being told what to do," says Jodi. Of all the things she could have said, that was probably the one thing that could tug on House's sole remaining heartstring. He almost smiles as he agrees to schedule Jodi for a full body scan. Awww. They should hang out.
Meanwhile, the Cottages are running lab tests. Hey, maybe the reason those tests are so unreliable is because doctors are doing them instead of the medical technologists who are actually trained for it. Chase laughs as he tells the group how Mindy thinks she "rode" Brandon to death. Cameron doesn't think it's very funny. She tells Chase he shouldn't have dismissed Mindy outright like that; any information is important right now. "Have you ever 'taken a life'?" asks Chase-o Suavé. Foreman interrupts with some news: the latest test results show that those antibiotics House prescribed have made Brandon's lungs fill with fluid and shut down his kidneys. The Magic School Bus Cam tries to enter what I'm guessing are pores of Brandon's CGI kidneys, but they keep hilariously shutting closed in its face until it gives up. "Our treatment isn't making him better," Foreman concludes. "It's killing him." Well, of course.
Now House and the Cottages have seven symptoms to work with. Foreman has a theory: Brandon has a viral heart infection, which is causing the low blood pressure, which in turn is causing the abdominal pain, since his intestines aren't getting enough blood. Foreman admits that it's a long shot, but says it does explain most of the symptoms. "Impressive," says House. Chase frowns, because he likes to be the person who gets all the right answers. House can't praise someone without immediately tearing him down, so he adds that Foreman's theory sucks because it doesn't explain the cough or the rash. He gets to his feet (both of them, and without using his cane, so he's precariously balanced on his good leg) and starts making circles all over the whiteboard with different-colored markers. Each color represents a possible theory and circles all of the symptoms it covers. House Venn Diagrams that only the orange and green circles cover all the symptoms. Therefore, Brandon has both of them. The Cottages laugh at the chances of Brandon contracting two things at the same time, Foreman saying the titular line that the Occam's Razor principle -- the simplest solution is always correct -- should apply here. And one illness is simpler than two. House offers up an example of how two can be simpler than one that involves human reproduction and that Foreman calls "specious." House responds by calling Foreman's tie ugly. They're both right, although only one of them acted like a petulant child.
House does a little mental math and says that his two-illness theory is a million to one shot, while Foreman's cardiac infection theory is, as Chase previously stated, a ten million to one shot. Thus, House's theory is ten times better than Foreman's. Foreman just looks down at his ugly tie. Chase says that they'll run the tests to prove House's double diagnosis. "Tests take time. Treatment's quicker," House responds, and orders Brandon to be put on drugs for a sinus infection and hypothyroidism. I agree that time is precious in these situations, but the half an hour it takes to run a hypothyroidism panel is pretty negligible. I'm starting to think House deliberately treats patients for illnesses they don't have because he likes to torture them.
Cameron administers the hypothyroidism drug while Mindy demands specifics from her about what is wrong with Brandon. Like everyone else, Mindy's a little skeptical about the whole two-things-at-once theory, and Cameron's totally-insecure-sounding "bad luck huh?," followed by a nervous chuckle, probably doesn't do much to make her feel better. Suddenly, an overbearing mother enters the room, followed by an anonymous father. They're Brandon's parents, and they dash across Brandon's miles-long ICU room to see their son. Brandon lets Cameron off the convincing-two-disease-theory-explanation hook by interrupting her to introduce his parents to Mindy -- his fiancée. The Branrents aren't exactly thrilled.
Cameron gets the hell out of the Room of Awkward Family Issues and meets up with the other Cottages. Surprise, surprise! They're not too thrilled with House's theory. Foreman, still smarting over the tie comment, isn't happy with House, either. He doesn't like being someone's "puppet." Chase and Cameron stick up for House because they're little suck-ups, Cameron pointing out that House's crazy theories are usually right and Chase saying the fact that House "thinks outside the box" doesn't make him evil. No, but the way he talks to people makes him kind of an asshole. I wouldn't be very thrilled with the guy if I had spent most of my life working my ass off to become a doctor, only to have a boss who treats me like I'm a total moron, either. Foreman invites them to join him in the lab to run virus tests, just in case their boss is wrong. Which he usually is two out of three times an episode, but he's still got a better batting average than the Cottages, who are always, always wrong.
The Cottages run their tests. I like how their relationships with each other are kind of awkward and cold, like real-life co-worker relationships, especially in a competitive environment like this. Foreman notices Chase is staring at Cameron, who's off in what I guess is a soundproof booth, and tells him to quit watching other people work and do his job. "She's weird, isn't she?" says Chase. "Bad idea," Foreman immediately responds. Relationships with co-workers rarely end well. This ruffles Chase's feathers, and he asks whether "weird" is a new ghetto euphemism for "sexy," like how "phat" and "bad" mean "good." "What the hell does 'good' mean?" Chase wonders. Chase needs to stop watching stand-up comedy specials from the early '90s. Foreman seems to find it funny that Chase automatically assumes that Foreman, being black, is up-to-date on all the latest "ghetto" slang. Chase finally admits that Cameron is "hot," but says he doesn't want to "jump her." Then he asks what the deal is with airline peanuts. Those bags are so hard to open, it makes you wonder how easy to use those oxygen masks are!
House has a patient at the clinic, but that won't stop him from playing a little Metroid on his Game Boy Advance SP. I think this is awesome, but the patient just wants someone to do something about his sore throat. House says they have to wait. Finally, Cuddy enters the room, all business, and House reluctantly puts his GBA away as he thanks her for the "consult." He explains that his patient's throat "seems to have some condition." Cuddy snaps on a latex glove and takes a look down the patient's throat. She's pretty annoyed when she sees that House pulled her out of a board meeting to check out a plain old sore throat. She seems to appreciate the humor in it, though. Hell, she'd probably rather be looking at red tonsils than sitting in that stuffy old board room anyway. House says Cuddy did say he always thought he was right, so he figured she'd appreciate his newfound desire to seek a second opinion. Cuddy tells the patient to go home and drink some hot tea. "Excellent counsel!" says House. I disagree; last time I had a sore throat, I went to the doctor and he performed a similarly cursory examination and then told me I had a postnasal drip and to take Tylenol. A week later, my throat hurt so much that I couldn't swallow Tylenol anymore, so I decided to take a look down there myself. I was surprised to find that my tonsils were grossly inflamed and covered with white spots. I went to a different doctor, who lectured me for allowing my tonsillitis to progress to such a severe stage that they almost had to be taken out. Plus, I had touched one of the infected tonsils to make sure the spots were on it and not food particles or something, then took out my contacts lenses and gave myself pink eye. This all happened a few days before I graduated college. You can imagine how beautiful I looked in those photographs. So you see, patient stupidity and doctor apathy are never a good combination.
Back in the lab, Foreman takes a break from running tests that could save someone's life to tell Cameron how "impressed" he is with her. Silly Cameron thinks Foreman's talking about her medical abilities. Foreman clarifies that he was talking about how Cameron was able to gain total control over Chase, who has apparently been stricken with severe hearing loss as he is right behind Foreman but doesn't hear anything he says. Foreman says that Chase isn't even attracted to Cameron, yet he now can't look at her without thinking about sex. Well, that's the sort of thing you want to hear when you're the only female on a team that often finds itself hidden away in dark and secluded labs. I wonder if the hospital gift shop sells mace. Cameron asks why a woman can't talk about sex without its being interpreted as a "power play." House suddenly enters the room and the conversation to tell Cameron that when you look like she does, you should be aware of the effect your words will have on men. House probably thinks that scantily-clad women deserve to get raped, too. "Men should grow up," says Cameron, although she must kind of enjoy the attention her looks get since she hasn't handed in her resignation yet. Or maybe she just doesn't like being respected. House pops a pill and says he figured he would find his little Cottages in the lab trying to prove his theory wrong. He tells them to talk to him after they've spun the urine. Good times.
House's alone time with Wilson (oh, hello, Wilson! Long time, no see) is interrupted by Foreman, who says the urine test shows that Brandon's renal failure was not caused by the antibiotics after all. He asks House how he knew that. House says that while the Cottages were wrapped in a futile effort to prove him wrong, he was spending time with the patient. Yes, House says, it was he who visited poor Brandon to hold his hand and tell him that he was not alone. Okay, it was actually Wilson. Anyway, Brandon's condition has improved, and therefore, House was right and Foreman was wrong. Foreman leaves to see Brandon for himself. "That smugness of yours really is an attractive quality," Wilson tells House, who responds that smugness is easier to maintain than highlights. Wilson asks House why he can't just be a little nicer to his underlings. House asks what saying "nice try," would accomplish. Wilson says Foreman would "go home not feeling like a piece of crap." House says he doesn't want his doctors going home.
Foreman stops by Brandon's room. He looks much better, although he still has that cough. Foreman orders a few more tests, because he knows there's a way to prove House wrong, and he'd rather keep working to do it than go home.
House is back at the clinic and playing Metroid while he and his patient wait for Cuddy to answer his page. House says it will be a while, since Cuddy was in the middle of a round of golf. He kindly offers his GBA to the patient to help pass the time. Foreman enters and says he ran some thyroid tests, and that Brandon doesn't have hypothyroidism. Without even thinking of the possibility that he could be wrong, House simply says that the lab tests are unreliable. Why do they even have a lab in this hospital if they're just going to dismiss results they don't like? Foreman says that Brandon's recovery doesn't necessarily mean House was right; maybe Brandon's immune system fought off the infection on its own. He just can't believe Brandon got two illnesses at the same time. House cryptically says he's glad Foreman works here, and then asks if he wants to bet fifty dollars on whose theory is correct. The patient is so appalled by this that she looks up from the GBA, and Samus Aran dies. House grabs the GBA away from her, like he can do any better. Every time we see a screen shot of that game, it's always in exactly the same place. House tells Foreman to check Brandon's white blood cell count. If it's high, then Brandon did fight off an infection and Foreman wins fifty bucks. I hope Brandon's insurance covers doctors' wagers confirmation tests.
Foreman leaves the room and Wilson enters. Cuddy sent him over for House's consult, and he isn't very pleased to have his busy schedule interrupted. House resists the urge to shake his fist at the sky and shout "Cuuuuudddddddyyyyy!"
Chase and Cameron are alone in House's gigantic office/conference room area. Chase tries to pour himself a cup of coffee, but is so distracted by Cameron's boobies that he accidentally spills coffee all over himself. Will Cameron's reign of terror ever end? Will her totally work-related use of the word "sex" ever have consequences for her?!? Cameron walks over to Chase and apologizes if she made him feel awkward the other day, even though HE was the one who made the "ever taken a life" comment. She says she was trying to make a joke before because sex makes her uncomfortable. "Well, we don't...have...to talk about this..." Chase stammers. Oh, grow up, Chase. Cameron adds that sex really is terrifying. All kinds of dangerous things happen to your body when you have sex, and Cameron lists them all as Chase swallows and fidgets uncomfortably. Cameron says that if sex wasn't so "unbelievably fun," no one would do it. Chase is no longer able to speak, so Cameron moves on to comparing the durations of men's and women's orgasms. Men are "lucky" that they have one orgasm. Women, Cameron explains, can have hour-long orgasms. Tantric sex is a lady's best friend. Fortunately for Chase, Foreman and House enter before he can melt into a pile of hormone-y goo. Cameron grabs an apple and says hello to them like nothing happened. Chase stands facing the counter, hoping that no one asks him to move from there in the five minutes or so.
House asks Foreman whether the white blood cell count was high. Foreman says it wasn't. House holds out a hand to collect the proceeds of his fifty-dollar wager, but Foreman isn't finished yet: Brandon's white blood cell count is actually really low, and still dropping. His immune system is shot. House and Foreman were both wrong. I'm sure they'll donate the betting pool to a deserving charity.
Brandon has to go to a "clean room," because when you don't have an immune system, anything could kill you. I'm sad to report the clean room doesn't look anything like John Travolta's awesome set-up in The Boy in the Plastic Bubble. Brandon and Chase step into a disinfectant vacuum tunnel thing, Chase wearing heavy-duty anti-germ-spreading-gear and Brandon wearing nothing. He is given the choice of covering his bits to prevent embarrassment or covering his ears to prevent deafness. Disinfectant vacuums are loud. Outside, Cameron and Foreman tell Mindy and the Branrents about Brandon's new germ-free lifestyle. "If he gets a cold, he'll die," Foreman says. Even if he goes to a doctor who isn't House.
The time we see Brandon, Foreman is removing some of his bone marrow for a biopsy. Foreman has these reassuring words to say before inserting the needle: "This is gonna hurt. A lot." I see he's been studying the Dr. House Bedside Manner Manual. Brandon clutches his pillow as he gasps and groans in pain. I'm pretty sure they just re-used his sex noises here.
House reprimands Cuddy for not answering his page. He has every right to request a consult. Sure, the patient ended up having a pulled leg muscle after a six-mile run, but leg pain is a symptoms of quite a few serious conditions. The patient could have died, House says. Or, worse, gotten a limp and a Vicodin addiction. Cuddy says that House's little plan to get out of clinic duty by calling her in for a consult for every single patient he sees will not work. And, in fact, this little "game" they're playing to make each other miserable is fun for her. Especially because she's going to win. "I got a head start," she says. "You are already miserable." And you, Cuddy, are awesome. Well, as awesome as someone who makes fun of cripples can be, anyway.
Cuddy leaves her office and runs into Wilson. She brushes him aside when he tries to ask her a question. Wilson is curious as to the origin of Cuddy's brisk manner and bad mood until he sees House exit her office. Trying to conceal his jealousy with a boyish smirk, Wilson asks House if he has a "thing" for Cuddy. House says that the "thin line" between love and hate is more like a Great Wall of China with armed guards posted every twenty feet. That's the only manmade structure that can be seen from outer space between love and hate. House hobbles over to the pharmacy and orders up some Vicodin. He's not allowed to prescribe his own medication, though, so Wilson puts his name on it. Enabler! "You will lie, cheat, and steal to get what you want," Wilson tells him. What the hell is House doing working in a clinic, then? He should go on Survivor and make some real money. There is a precedent of people with physical handicaps and cranky bastards doing quite well there. House grabs the wrong bottle of pills of the pharmacists' counter. Wilson alerts him to that, and gives him a last-minute tutoring session on the Importance of Kissing Your Boss's Ass To Get What You Want. And then House has an idea. He asks Wilson what Brandon's first symptom was. It was that darn cough.
House sits in his office and glares at the whiteboard o'symptoms. He reads the hell out of his books and logs onto WebMD. Chase observes from outside. He kind of a creepy stalker in this episode, isn't he? Brandon coughs and tries not to die.
Some time later, House steps into the Cottages' office. "Gout!" House says, almost giving it two syllables with his pronunciation. And with that, he leaves. The Cottages rush into House's office for clarification. Foreman says that Brandon doesn't have any gout symptoms. House says that's because Brandon doesn't have gout, and drops his jaw in sarcastic surprise. Hugh Laurie, you are truly great. House wardrobe team, you are truly doing Jennifer Morrison a disservice by squeezing her into bustier-vests. Magic School Bus Cam take us into the microscopic world of cell division! House explains that gout medication -- colchicine -- stops cell division. This cures gout, but it also has a couple of side effects, all of which are on that whiteboard except for the cough. Chase asks why Brandon would have colchicine if he doesn't have gout. "Because you guys were right," says House, as the four horsemen of the apocalypse casually fly past the window. Brandon didn't have two conditions at exactly the same time; he had a cough and went to a doctor. The doctor gave him a prescription for cough medicine. The pharmacy gave Brandon the colchicine instead of cough medicine. And this is why Young George Baileys are essential members of every pharmacy's staff. Cameron points out a flaw in House's theory: Brandon hasn't taken the cough medicine since he entered the hospital, so the fact that he got better and then got worse doesn't make sense. It does if two people screwed up.
House makes his way down the hall, followed closely by the Cottages. He meets Brandon's family, who call him "the one we haven't met yet." Dad points out that Brandon hasn't met House either: "How can you treat someone you haven't met?" For repeating a line that has been said in every episode so far, Dad deserves House's response of "it's easy if you don't give a crap about him." The parents stare at House in shocked silence. House says that emotional detachment is a good thing for a doctor, because it allows him to act rationally. And when you act rationally, you don't do caring, yet stupid, things like give Brandon cough medicine when he's already dying in the hospital, like someone on the emotional side of the equation did. No one fesses up to it. Just as Foreman is about to suggest that they give up this wild goose chase, Mom tearfully admits that she gave the rest of the cough medicine pills to Brandon.
Unfortunately, we don't get to see House rip Mom seven new assholes before we cut to Chase, Mindy, and Mom running into a pharmacy and demanding to see the pills the pharmacist gave Brandon. Mom decides to take full advantage of the circumstances and starts browsing the pharmacy's selection of sunglasses. There's always time for shopping! There's also time for Mother and future Daughter-In-Law to trade bitchy barbs because this show hates women. Chase and his hot leather jacket return with a refill of Brandon's cough medicine. He shows the pills to the ladies and asks them if they look the same as the pills Brandon had. He's pretty surprised when they say that they're the same pills. The pharmacist is smug.
House mourns the loss of his perfect, beautiful explanation. "Beauty often seduces us on the road to truth," Wilson Deep Thoughts. "And triteness kicks us in the nads," House adds, and out of anyone on this show, he probably knows a thing or two about being kicked in the nads. I have to imagine that, upon leaving work every day, he faces a long line of people who do just that. Wilson wonders if Brandon has lymphoma. House says that the tests and scans have ruled that out. Wilson tells him to toss all that aside and do an exploratory laporotomy. House says that surgery will kill Brandon in his current condition. But he'll do it anyway.
The Cottages do some pre-op work on Brandon. Brandon complains that his fingers are numb. Foreman pushes something into the wall of Brandon's heart until the kid crashes. Foreman closes the curtains on the room, leaving Mindy and the parents to wonder what's going on. Chase whips out the defibrillators and brings Brandon back. He's alive, but he won't be having surgery today.
House is pleased to tell his newest clinic patient that Cuddy let him cut out of work an hour early because he kissed her ass. The patient, a young guy whose lip piercing and neck tattoo suggest a certain attraction towards self-mutilation, is too caught up in his own problems to care. And what are his problems? As House correctly deduces, he's got something stuck up his ass. And if it's big, there will be some tearing when it inevitably works its way out. The poor kid just stands there, stricken, until House, adopting a more sympathetic tone, says he's been a doctor for a long time and seen a lot of things in people's asses. Nothing will shock him. "It's an mp3 player," the kid says. I hope for his sake that it's an iPod mini. House pauses and reflects, then: "Is it...is it because of the size or the shape? Or is it the pounding bass line?"
House will never find out, because his shift has ended! Kissing ass to get an hour off really came in handy after all. House limps away with a big ol' smile on his face, leaving instructions to give the patient over to Cuddy, who is also to check the patient for illegal downloads. Cuddy may have won the battle, but House just won the war. He doesn't get to savor his victory for long, though, because Cameron runs up to inform House that Brandon won't be having the surgery today because he almost died during the pre-op. Cameron also mentions the numbness in Brandon's fingers. House has an idea.
House walks up to Brandon's room. He tosses a quick "hi, again!" to the Branrents before walking right on into the clean room without taking any of the necessary safety precautions. Inside, he asks "how y'all doin'?" and Hugh Laurie's accent wavers just slightly on the "y'all," because English people simply cannot say that word, no matter how hard they try. It's an ingrained mental block that comes from not wanting to sound like a stereotypical stupid American. My dad has been in this country for twenty-five years now, and the best he can do is "yer-awlllll." And then we laugh at him, because there is nothing funnier to stupid Americans than other people screwing up. House tells the room about how different body cells divide more quickly than others, which is why the effects of colchicine poisoning are felt at different times, and why Brandon's symptoms showed up in a certain order. In fact, House can predict that his problem will be his hair falling out in clumps, and yanks a nice patch off it out of Brandon's scalp to prove this theory as Mom watches in horror and disgust and Cameron throws her hands up in exasperation. And so, House says, Brandon has been doing drugs. Brandon admits to trying ecstasy twice, and Mindy gives him a "you are so dead when we get home, if you don't die here first" look. House says the ectasy must have been cut with colchicine, and that's how it got in his system. Some Fab fragments will fix him up nicely.
The Cottages begin Brandon's treatment. It takes effect immediately. Foreman flashes a thumbs up to the fam, who cheer. Mom's so damn relieved that she didn't kill her son that she even hugs Mindy. Colchicine poisoning brings families together!
Wilson finds House rummaging through the pharmacy's inventory. "Big weekend?" he asks. No, says House, although...that too. His primary concern, though, is trying to figure out how Brandon got all that colchicine. He doesn't think two tablets of ecstasy could have done it, so he's going to search through every single medicine until he finds a colchicine pill that looks like Brandon's cough medicine. I want to know how a pharmacist giving someone medicine for a condition he doesn't have is any different than what House does every episode.
The Branfam plan his upcoming nuptials. Brandon wants his cousin Sharon to be there. Mom says that if they invite Cousin Sharon, they'll have to invite "all the cousins." "So what?" says Mindy. "My side of the family doesn't eat anything." Everyone laughs as Mom silently plots how to kill this horrible girl her son is trying to bring into her life. She may have forgiven Mindy for accusing her of almost killing Brandon, but Mom draws the line at vague fat jokes. Brandon coughs and asks if he's allowed to have cough medicine now. Cameron and Chase say that's fine. Chase tells Brandon to invite House to the wedding. He won't come, but he'll send a gift. And Cameron will "make sure" it's a good one. What a nice planet Cameron lives on, where wearing extremely low-cut V-necks with her boobs almost hanging out is acceptable professional wear, and where she and House hang out at the mall and shop for people's weddings together. Brandon notes that these new cough medicine pills are different than his other ones. The new ones have a letter on them; the old ones didn't. Cameron tells Brandon not to worry about it, and then turns down Chase's date proposal before he's even finished making it.
"One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do," Three Dog Night sings as House, still searching through the pharmacy, finds a bottle of small, yellow pills without a letter on them. He compares them to the right pills and looks up to the sky. "Thank you, God, for making me so damn smart," he thinks. Or he would, if wasn't so pissed at God for making him a cripple. Two can be as bad as one, but not when it comes to legs, eh, House?