House's last session had ended (once again) before he'd been able to pick up any information from his patient's possible anecdotes rather than his mannerisms and ridiculous ears. Not that what patients had to say was particularly useful anyway unless they were on the verge of death and likely to tell the truth about having eaten Scandinavian
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"Hey, kid," he said, glancing back at his screen, "you're the kind of guy who listens to people, right? The kind who wants to be in good graces with great ol' Mr. Authority? If you are, just--"
He paused suddenly. Good graces with authority... was exactly what House didn't try to get. So why hadn't he just gone after the patients the old fashioned way as soon as his suspicions had been aroused? A couple of brawny guys shouldn't have been intimidating him from anything, let alone asking a poor straitjacketed bastard a couple of offhand questions about the way things smelled or if they were taking a certain kind of pill. This wasn't the way he was supposed to act, so how the hell had it taken him this long to realize it ( ... )
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He rolled his eyes and looked up from his rummaging, staring the kid in the eye.
"Listen," he said, his voice quick and caustic, "I'm not in the mood to deal with Eddie Haskell, so why don't you stop the brown-nosing and tell me whether or not you guys are all crazy or just really, really exaggerating."
His hand found the object he was looking for and he pulled it out: his cell phone. He opened it and scrolled down the contacts list, pushing "SEND" on the name "Cuddleboobs."
"...Right after this call," he added in a mutter, putting the phone to his ear.
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