House M.D. 7x20

Changes

Season 7, Episode 20

& Thirteen: Refrigerator mechanic, no family, in and out of work.
    Taub: He just won $42 million in the state lottery. I think I read about this lucky bastard in the paper.
    House: You sure you don’t mean the lucky bastard whose grandkids snorted his winnings till he drank himself to death with drain cleaner? Or the lucky bastard who was found naked and penniless in a strip club parking lot with his winning number tattooed on both testicles?

& Taub: That kind of cash, he has a chance to turn a miserable life around.
    House: Miserable stays miserable. Happy doesn’t buy lottery tickets in the first place.
    Thirteen: Our level of happiness is set. It’s in our DNA. No cash payout’s gonna change that.
    House: It’s like there’s two of me.

& Cuddy: My mother’s lawyer called. She’s threatening to sue the hospital over our mistreatment of her. {...}
    House: You know, I was just thinking how much I want a relationship with no sex but where I still have to deal with your mother.

& House: Medicinal. I’m expecting a shooting pain in my ass.

& House: I’m starting to get the connection. Yeah, she has a house, my name is House.

& Cuddy: I need you in that meeting acting nice and respectful while I defuse this stunt.
    House: Yeah well, I’m not going to that meeting, so I’m guessing you’re cool if I’m not nice and respectful either.

& Foreman: You want to put him on dialysis, risk infection and hemodynamic swings when we can just chelate?
    House: If we chelate, we’re not gonna know what disease he had, which means we’re not gonna know if the problem was in his lousy old job or his still-lousy new life. Which for the purposes of a metaphorical argument is very important.
    Foreman: Pointless to argue. He’s the boss. He needs his puzzle solved. Why bang our heads against the wall?
    House: When you’re done with the patient, treat Foreman by banging his head against the wall.

---

& Thirteen: She de-authorized all treatment.
    Taub: She won’t let us make a move until you agree to a sit-down with the godmother and her consigliere.
    House: Bitch to king four.
    Taub: Checkmate. Patient can’t use his leg. You have to concede.
    House: Or... I could just knock all the pieces onto the floor.
Patient: You’re discharging me?
    Taub: We really... Don’t have a good lie here, so...

& Cuddy: Of course I’ll let you treat your patient if you meet me halfway.
    House: Well, I guess I’m not finished either.
    Cuddy: No clinic hours for the next quarter.
    House: Yeah, three parking spots, next to each other, so I can park diagonally, and three pairs of your underwear... I’m thinking of taking up sailing.

& Cuddy: Forget it. Treat your patient, don’t treat your patient. Come to the meeting, don’t come to the meeting. I’m done playing your game.
    House: You realize the game is automatically over when the loser loses, right?

& Wilson: ....... Schedule a CT-guided biopsy.
    House: Yeah, let’s assume we’d already figured that out on our own.
    Wilson: Then what’s this consult?
    House: Why haven’t you been yelling at me about the Cuddy twins?
    Wilson: Because you’re doing the right thing.
    House: Are we talking about the same issue?

& House: Is there something I don’t know about that I’m responding to appropriately?
    Wilson: Cuddy wants you in the middle of this. So does Arlene. Because they don’t want to face their own problem. Somehow, in your knee-jerk, juvenile way, you tripped and fell into an actual adult response to this.
    House: You’re right. That was Cuddy’s strategy all along... She wanted me to think that she desperately needed me to be there so that I wouldn’t be there.
    Wilson: [ shock ]

& Arlene: House.
    House: Ex-not-mom-in-law.

& Cuddy: You said you weren’t coming.
    House: After you said pretty please with sugar on top?

& House: Problem is we only give store credit, so I say we put your old, cracked poisonous hip back in. Here and now. I saved your life. Happy to un-save it.

& Arlene: If House isn’t going to take this seriously, I know a few judges who will.
    House: Was I supposed to be the good cop?

& Foreman: He has three completely different cancers at once.
    Taub: On average, not so lucky after all.

& Wilson: You’ve got more anger toward her than you realize.
    House: I’m happier without her. I’m not stupidly expecting her to make me happy. I’m happier with my unhappiness.

& Foreman: You want to grow more and bigger cancers?
    House: We can’t figure out what three small ones have in common, maybe can figure out what eight big ones have in common?

& Foreman: Is this idea real, or are you just threatening to kill the patient to screw with me? This whole thing is idiotic. What does it matter what’s inside of me if I know how to control it?
    Thirteen: Makes no difference to us, but you may want to make out a will.

& Taub: How long a game you think she’s playing?
    Thirteen: I think if she said yes after 14 hours, even he’d be suspicious.
    Taub: You’re lucky you’re hot and smart, because... well, you’re just lucky, you’re hot and smart.

& Foreman: I need a hooker.
    House: Not if you can make that work. How is that supposed to relax you?

& House: Forget yoga. Embrace Zen. You’re a repressed idiot. Chase’s a horny idiot. Neither one of you can do anything about it. Pretty sure that’s Zen.

& Wilson: Stop! You’re both at fault here. You for trying to manipulate House when you used to know better, and you for... being you. Which an especially bad idea under the circumstances.
    House: I had good reasons.
    Wilson: You had lame rationalizations.

& Cuddy: Mom, here’s a check. It’s a settlement for all you’ve been through. Of course you can stay in your home. It was wrong of me to suggest otherwise.
    House: I’m sorry. ... That we saved your life. ... In the way that we did.
    Wilson: B-plus.

& Foreman: Chase has had his eyes on this one for months.
    Taub: Meaning he has eyes?
    Foreman: I paid her 100 bucks. When he hits on her... might be tonight, might be next week... she’s gonna slap him and storm off.
    Taub: So your plan is to prove you’re both full of crap all in one move?

& Foreman: First he’ll compliment her hair. That’s how he breaks the ice. ... Next comes some kind of joke or story. ... He’s sharpening his harpoon...
    Taub: Are my moves this predictable?

& Wilson: Arlene wants another meeting.
    House: I know. Told my seconds to tell her seconds that she gets no second chance. Well, technically, it’s a third chance, but I don’t have thirds.

& Wilson: I’ve been thinking about your irrationality, and I’ve come up with a rational explanation for it.
    House: That’s quite a challenge.

& Wilson: You don’t want to let go of Cuddy, so you’re clinging to the negative interaction, because some small part of you thinks the bad stuff beats nothing at all.
    House: You’re almost making this work. All you got to do now is change reality.

& Cuddy: I’m sorry, mom. Some things take more than a common enemy.
    Arlene: Then you’re an idiot with impossible standards.

& Thirteen: He’s renting her an apartment.
    House: It’ll end horribly.
    Thirteen: Not for him. She may take all his money, and he may be a naive idiot, but... He’ll always be hopeful, so he’ll always be happy.

& House: You lost your mother. You euthanized your brother. You got the life expectancy of a pretty good sitcom. If you can convince yourself that you’d be miserable no matter what even without all that stuff, then maybe you don’t have to hate the universe for dumping a giant turd on you. Fatalism is your survival mechanism.
    Thirteen: And you? Dumped by everyone you’ve ever loved. Rehab was a bust. Your leg feels like somebody took a giant bite out of it. We are who we are. Lotteries are stupid.


On Imdb.