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House: Season 4, Episode 6 Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Posted by gordonshumway in gordonshumway, House, hugh laurie, Reasons why I am single, Television.
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Well, I’m back. After a trip to the World Series to watch my beloved Boston Red Sox and a promising job interview, I can finally resume my House recaps and feel like I’m justified to write “Dr. & Mrs. Greg House” all over my notebooks. So let’s get to this week’s episode. You guys have waited long enough.

Episode 6, entitled “Whatever it Takes”, opens on the track where two drag racers are waiting for the green light. Casey, a female driver, is checking her controls and talking to her dad, Biff Tannen. Yes, that Biff Tannen. “I feel like throwing up my guts,” he tells her before she gets into the car. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to law school?” he asks. “No, I hate lawyers,” she responds. Excellent! This makes them prime candidates for potentially botched medical treatment at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.

The music swells–either My Morning Jacket or the theme song from Nintendo’s “Toobin'”–as she accelerates down the track. I briefly thought that Casey was a character created as an homage to ovary-bearing IndyCar driver Danica Patrick, but that idea was dashed when Casey actually won a race.

After her victory, she is doing an interview when her vision goes all wonky and everything she hears sounds like a backwards Judas Priest album. She passes out, prompting Biff to run to her side and knock on her forehead while shouting, “Hello? Hello, anybody home? Think, McFly.”

House and the still-annoyingly-large team are together in the classroom debating which case to take. He seems intrigued at the prospect of “Speed Racer”, the woman suffering from visual and auditory processing deficiency (Yeah, like I said. Wonky eyes.). Foreman dismisses her because her lab results show nothing more than signs of dehydration. He’s also wearing a purple shirt and tie, which make it hard for me to take him seriously.

An important looking man with a nice suit and excellent posture (phrases I always look for when perusing eHarmony profiles) comes into the classroom asking for House. He produces an unflattering photo of House, which makes me initially think he’s from the DMV. As Suit Guy and House go out into the hall to talk, 13 notes that “he’s not packing”, which either means that he’s not carrying a gun or that he, um, drives an expensive sports car.

House Helipad
That helicopter’s not gonna fit on your lap.

The man identifies himself as working for the CIA and tells a skeptical House that one of their agents has been the victim of an assassination attempt. House–who still thinks Suit Guy is a male stripper–tells the team that he’ll be back in 45 minutes. He remains convinced that he’s going to get a lap dance until they walk onto the roof and see the CIA helicopter idling there. Suit Guy gives House a smug smile and says, “It helps when you have props”, which has always been my attitude toward second dates.

Foreman and Dr. Dave Matthews check out Speed Racer. They still assume that she’s suffering from dehydration and heat stroke, but do an MRI to be extra careful and because she’s probably uninsured. She criticizes Foreman, pointing out that “[She] makes a living driving 300 miles per hour, so the ability to stay conscious is kind of important.” That’s true for most jobs, except the last one I had. I’m pretty sure I could’ve been embalmed at any time during my tenure there and no one would’ve noticed.

Dr. Dave Matthews
Ants Marching…to the MRI machine

Meanwhile, House is on the CIA plane, eating peanuts and answering his cell phone which rings to “Whatta Man” as performed by Salt-N-Pepa, featuring En Vogue. Go figure…I would’ve pegged him for a “Waterfalls” kind of guy.

Speed Racer’s CT scan comes back normal and Foreman is ready to release her, despite Dave Matthew’s protests. They are arguing the semantics of what constitutes weak reflexes when 13 says she’s had another seizure. In true “Viewer Discretion Advised” fashion, we are treated to a trip through her eyeballs, which look vaguely like that Laser Tag place near the Super K-Mart. The team debates whether or not she has Miller-Fisher syndrome, when she yells “You obviously don’t have a clue what you’re doing!” and demands to see House.

House is being led through CIA headquarters and quips, “This looks a lot better on 24″. When he sees the CIA doctor, he immediately says, “I take that back”. Dr. Samira Teriz is played by an uncredited Michael Michele, formerly of ER, although I recognized her from the cover of “Weekly World News”.

Dr. Weekly World News

Also assisting House and Dr. Weekly World News (Dr. WWN) is Dr. Sydney Curtis, a crotchety old immunologist from the Mayo Clinic. Hijinks are sure to ensue.

Back at PPTH, the team is trying to get the patient to agree to start treatment for Miller-Fisher. Foreman is trying to be sincere, which means he’s starting his sentences with “Look…”. But, problem solved! Speed Racer can’t have Miller-Fisher because she’s now delirious and Biff is growing tired of the wrong diagnoses. He tells Foreman to make like a tree and get outta here.

House is on his way to meet the potentially poisoned CIA agent and he announces, “My malpractice insurance doesn’t cover alien autopsy.” Dr. WWN tells him that “X-Files are the next wing over” and they continue trying to name check every Fox show currently in production.

House: This is definitely easier than a Prison Break. <winks>
Dr. WWN: Maybe, but we’ll continue treatment Til Death.
Dr. Curtis: Ugh. His face is like overcooked lasagna, the kind they’d serve in Hell’s Kitchen.
House: How long has he been sick? He’s nothing but skin and–

OK, that was stupid and I apologize.

Dr. WWN will not give the patient’s medical history, is vague about his travels, and gives him the insanely creative cover name of “John”. Five days ago he was 185 pounds and in perfect health. Now, his skin is peeling off in ribbons. I immediately wonder if he has had recent sexual contact with Britney Spears.

Sex With Britney
John makes me sorry that I’m watching this show in HD.

Meanwhile in New Jersey, the team is playing “Are You Smarter than A Fifth Grader” as they struggle to diagnose Speed Racer’s problems. They’ve also started me on a rollicking evening of the Lupus Drinking Game, where I take a drink every time they suggest that particular malady. Thanks to the Cutthroat Bitch and Dr. Taub, it was well after midnight before I could feel my palms. Regardless, whatever Speed Racer has, it’s affecting both her body and her brain. Foreman suggests multiple sclerosis, but that suggestion is dismissed by the other team members. Cutthroat Bitch eagerly agrees with Taub’s lupus diagnosis (DRINK!), to which he responds, “Flirt all you want but I warn you, shiksas never break us.” Foreman gives them three hours to run tests.

“John” has been tested for every known poison and, despite being unable to give specific environmental factors, it is revealed that he spent the last 11 months in Bolivia and he apparently eats a lot of chestnuts. “Who are you going to kill in Bolivia,” House asks Dr. WWN. “My former housekeeper?”

House initially suggests that John has pancreatitis, due to his alcoholism, a notion that is shot down by the other two. He asks them who has the resources to make a supplement that is completely untraceable. CIA Special Agent Barry Bonds* suggests calling BALCO.

Speed Racer hasn’t recovered at all either. Foreman is adamant that she doesn’t have lupus (DRINK!) and orders them to begin treatment for MS. Cutthroat Bitch asks Taub if he still thinks she has lupus (DRINK!) and suggests that they go talk to Dr. Cameron in the ER. Cameron tells them that all House cares about is results…which means they decide to give her a steroidal treatment for lupus (DRINK!) as well. Agent Bonds* approves…until Speed Racer loses the ability to move her legs.

Cutthroat Bitch & Dr. Taub
House’s Team: Available in Regular Size and Fun Size varieties

House has made himself at home in John’s room, eating his chicken wings and claiming that the treatment was working. He propositions Dr. WWN with a line that includes the phrase “down Mexico way”.

Dr. WWN: Do you think acting like an idiot and talking about sex works on girls?”
House: If it didn’t, the human race would’ve died out long ago.

Then he announces that he’s unhooked the iodine drip used to protect John’s thyroid during the radiation treatment. John responds by, um, not responding at all. Cut to commercial.

Foreman is yelling at the team, he claims they went rogue, LOUD NOISES! “Look…” he begins, “you aren’t bad doctors or practicing bad medicine…none of this works for anyone except House.” He obviously hasn’t consulted with Dr. Bon Jovi who knows that Bad Medicine is what I need, because there ain’t no doctor that can cure my disease.

Sigh. I told you I’d been drinking.

ANYWAY, they protest that the steroids couldn’t cause the paralysis, although I’m not sure what could cause Foreman’s case of overacting. He continues to blame House for the patient’s condition and now he thinks that she has botulism. Then Dr. Dave Matthews says that she has polio, a suggestion that prompts Taub to make the most quotable, spit-a-mouthful-of-Boone’s-Farm-onto-the-keyboard, best line ever:

“Brilliant. We should search her home for FDR’s remains or a time machine.”

Read that again. Foreman doesn’t take kindly to Polio (or its more casual incarnation, Ralph Lauren’s Polio Sport), kicks Dave Matthews off the case, then starts treating her for botulism.

Dr. WWN and Dr. Old White Guy say that, because of House’s iodine removal, John is now dying of radiation sickness. House grabs a hunk of John’s hair, which remains rooted to his head, proving it’s not radiation sickness. Good news though! He has cancer, so a round of chemo and plasmapheresis is ordered.

Foreman and his purple shirt go to the ER to eff with Cameron’s patient since she effed with his. They have a whiny exchange that is only notable because it led to a shot of my Character Actor of the Week. We salute you, haggard, urine-toting old woman. We also suggest that you drink more liquids.

Urine Trouble

House continues to flirt with Dr. WWN because he has a thing for extraterrestrials. Confidential to House: Unless you’re wearing an aluminum foil helmet, she can read your thoughts. He suggests that they “meet back at [her] place for some enhanced interrogation techniques.” She tells him, “If you actually cure this guy, I’ll show you my own private waterboard”, which may be the least attractive euphemism I’ve ever heard. I was unaware that it was a turn-on to compare your genitals to torture implements. That said, when I go out tonight, I’ll be asking the first man who makes eye contact with me if he’d like to get locked in my Iron Maiden.

The fun doesn’t stop there; he tells her that he “happens to have a position available on [his] penis.” She makes a reference to his “staff” and says that she’s “sure [he’s] a great boss. That’s why [his] fellows left en masse.” HOUSE, PUT THE ALUMINUM FOIL ON RIGHT NOW.

“Hey, McForeman. I thought I told you never to come in here.”

While Foreman tries to avoid telling Biff that his daughter’s not getting any better, Dave Matthews knocks on the door with a polio test that is positive.

House checks on John who says that his hair is falling out. It’s too soon for the chemo to cause that, so he doesn’t have cancer…someone actually did try to kill him. OK, next I saw a horrid Applebee’s commercial where comedian Wanda Sykes is a talking apple, like those “Doonesbury” cartoons where the president was, like, a talking helmet. I start hoping that Applebee’s ad agency goes to Bolivia, if you know what I’m saying.

After Dr. Old White Guy yells at him, House suggests a treatment of cordyceps sinensis, an alternative therapy derived from a fungus in caterpillars that can reverse bone marrow damage from radiation…in monkeys. I think I also saw it at Whole Foods, right beside the Crocs and the Neti pots.

I am growing tired of Foreman at this point because he has two emotions: anger and whatever “Look…” means. Dave Matthews wants to treat the polio with Vitamin C. He claims that experiments in the 1950s proved that ultra high doses will kill the virus, heal nerve damage, and clear up her nasty case of scurvy. “Someone thought it worked!”, he shouts. “And someone thought black people made excellent farm implements,” Foreman counters.

Note: I did some research on this because I could not be more dorky. I also have several hours to kill until Maury Povich comes on. There was actually one doctor, Fred Klenner, who made these claims, so Dave Matthews may have a point. Of course, Dr. Klenner was from North Carolina, so Foreman’s probably right too.

Dave Matthews wins and they start with the Minute Maid Medicine. I hope she got to pick how much pulp was in the treatment.

John is awake and talking to House. He talks about his 40 day trip and how the Minister of Defense did the Devil Dance for him during Carnivale. House, who obviously plays a lot of Carmen San Diego, somehow knows that Bolivia’s big ol’ carnival doesn’t last 40 days. He stops John, midsentence, and asks “Do you have any idea what a chestnut looks like?”

House Smirk

See, John was stationed in Brazil, not Bolivia, and actually ate a lot of Brazil nuts–not chestnuts. House–who now speaks multiple Spanish dialects–says that these Brazil nuts contain a lot of selenium… enough to poison John. Luckily, the treatment is kelation–the same treatment required for radiation sickness. Basically, he has nut poisoning, which I think Lindsay Lohan has also suffered from. Before he leaves Langley, House and Dr. WWN continue their sexually charged banter.

House: There’s a lot you could learn in my fellowship. A few new procedures I could teach you…
Dr. WWN: I know how to kill a man with my thumb.
House: Actually, I was just trying to make another euphemism for sex.
Dr. WWN: So was I.

Back in the classroom, the team is eager to tell House that Speed Racer had polio and they cured it with Vitamin C. He disagrees and tells them that, since she walked out of the hospital earlier, that couldn’t have been the problem. What it means is that either Dave Matthews screwed up the lab test…or he poisoned her with thallium, faked the lab test, cured her with Vitamin C, and stopped the poison so she would recover.

He admits it, claiming that what he did would make the government do research to help people in the third world or Alabama or whatever. He wants to save lives with “whatever it takes”–it’s in the damn episode title. Dude, for real, next time just buy one of those (Product) Red shirts at the Gap.

House tells Dave Matthews that he’s not going to fire him… instead, he’s going to quit, kind of like Los Angeles Dodgers’ manager Grady Little. I expect Joe Torre to replace him by next week. As the “nutjob” walks out, House tells the team that he put Foreman in charge so they are expected to listen to him…and also, he was right about Speed Racer just having heat stroke.

As House leaves the hospital, he sees Dr. WWN waiting for him outside. She tells him that she’s going to take him up on his offer, for the position on his penis staff, and that she’ll be at work on Monday morning. Not only has this given me the courage to just hang out in the parking lot of my potential employers, it’s also becoming less likely that the team is ever going to get whittled down.

Now… who wants to see my cat o’ nine tails?



1. Yostal - Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Um, I would….Wait, did I say that out loud? Shit.

Oh, but humiliation aside, a wonderful return J-Money. Rock rock on.

2. DougOLis - Thursday, November 8, 2007

Ohhh, so that’s my problem. I’ve been referring to my penis as The Black Irish Tickler and so far I’ve only bagged a dude named Joe.

I couldn’t decide all episode if Dr. WWN was hot or weird looking. Still haven’t; not saying I wouldn’t do her either way though.

3. Carol - Thursday, November 8, 2007

Welcome back! I look forward to your re-caps more than I do the actual show.

4. gordonshumway - Thursday, November 8, 2007

Aw, Carol, I adore you.

You are officially invited to my next Lupus Drinking Game party.

5. Carol - Thursday, November 8, 2007

Thanks, gordonshumway!

6. josigata - Sunday, November 11, 2007

That quote was not “shiksas don’t break us.” It sure sounded like it, but it made no sense to me, so I listened to it about ten times. He said, “Flirt all you want, but I warn you, shiksas are for practice.” Waaay more offensive and appropriate to direct at cutthroat bich.

7. Dee - Sunday, December 30, 2007

Does it matter at all that Brazilian carnival does NOT last 40 days (more like between 3 and 6, depending on the region)? Ironically, the dance of the devil probably refers to the Bolivian “La Diablada”…

8. safe - Monday, February 15, 2010

Gregory House Rocks!

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