All language subtitles for House.S07E21.720p.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.264-POD

I have been fantasizing
about this for months.

Forget it.
We're not here to fool around.

I'm not fooling around.

I need this.

You're an idiot.
You know that?

Just shut up
and give me a boost.

Hurry your ass up.

Hey, sometimes a guy's
got to do

what a guy's got to do.

Jaguar one to control.

Uh, sorry for the delay.

Glenn had to take a leak.
It was unavoidable.

Target area is clear.

Target area
confirmed clear.

Dr. Lee, target area
is cleared.

Launch vehicle's in range.
All systems go.

Thank you, Cesar.
Whenever you're ready.

The CT-10's light enough
to launch from a UAV,

but can penetrate 8 feet
of 6,000-psi concrete

before detonation.

Bomb's away.

Precision guidance system's
not affected

by darkness or weather
and can hit

a 2-foot-wide target
from 69,000 feet.

What about sound?

None inbound at all.

We've developed
a new fan

and a baffling
design that--

ordnance on target
in three, two, one.

I feel better already.

You need to see a shrink.

Seriously.

Well done.

Wendy!

Call 911!

www.facebook.com/gatonplay

www.facebook.com/gatonplay

Massive Attack's ♪ Teardrop ♪

Karma's a bitch.

You think her seizures
are the result of bad karma?

I think if you
spend your days

designing ever more
effective ways

to blow people up, stuff's
bound to come back to you.

Thirsty.

Side effect of
a new antihistamine I'm on.

You don't seem congested.

Hmm, intriguing.

You have any thoughts
about our patient?

Got some questions
about whether Thirteen

really believes in karma
or just wants to.

As for the patient,

it's not gonna be easy
to break into her office.

Might want to start
with her home.

We could ask to look

through her office
and we could do an MRI first.

Sure. Go ahead.

If you're not interested
in the case,

why'd you take it?

I am definitely interested.

Could be a tumor.
Could be a CNS bleed.

What do you do when you got
two interesting puzzles?

Two?

50 bucks!

Pay up.

♪ Uh mmm mmm ♪

Let's go. Let's go.

Bet's off.

Fight was fixed.

That punch barely
touched him.

You bet on Foley
to beat Zachary?

Speed beats power...

Unless speed
has been paid

to speedily take a dive.

He touched him enough
to put him on the canvas

and the official
counted him out,

which means you
officially owe me

50 bucks.

We bet on
a sporting event.

That was not sporting.

Less than 30 seconds.

That was barely
even event-y.

Okay, here's what I saw.

You lost and I won.

Yeah, well, you can
take that to your grave.

You're not taking
my 50 bucks.

Prove it.

Prove it or pay up.

You got one day.

And don't make me send my boys
out looking for you.

What?

All right.

So, two puzzles.

Tie goes to the one
that costs me money.

Keep each other posted.

I've always been healthy.

I never even get colds.

I guess your luck
finally ran out.

I take it she doesn't
like people who makes bombs.

I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to.

It's all right.

Half of my family feels
the same way.

Of course they all work
on Wall Street, so...

Ever since the first
4th of July I can remember,

I've always loved explosions.

When I got to college
and I had to pick a major,

figured I might as well pick
something I'm passionate about.

Destroying things.

You weren't passionate
about anything else?

Bombs are tools,
just like anything else.

You can use it
to make things better

or you can use it
to make things worse.

I also like romantic poetry

and picnics.

Is there anything else
you want to know

before we do this MRI?

Nope.

Try to stay as still
as possible.

This shouldn't take long.

Hey, how's it going?

You mind?

I mean, there are plenty
of other seats.

I'm not here to judge.

You did what was best
for you

and I got no problem
with that.

I'm not gonna ask you
nice again.

Just go away.
Or what?

You're suddenly gonna
fall down?

Listen.
I got a problem.

A guy who knows absolutely
nothing about boxing,

because of you,
now thinks he does.

You can imagine
the potential ramifications.

I need you to get
on the phone with him

and tell him
you took a dive.

I didn't take a dive.

Take a picture of you
to prove that it was really you

and we're done.

Just enough to convince him.

Not enough to get you
in any trouble.

I didn't take a dive.

Yeah.

That story's
getting boring.

Look, I'm not
from the commission.

I'm not some bookie.

I'm a doctor.
This is my I.D.

Look, if you were
a bookie,

you'd know no one pays a guy
to throw a fight

he has no chance to win.

I was a 12-to-1 underdog.

Lost my last five fights.

But you were
the better fighter.

That last punch
barely touched you.

You ever been barely touched
by a guy

who weighs 230 pounds?

Look at me.

Look where I am,
what I'm wearing.

Now, do I look like a guy
who just got a payday?

I didn't throw the fight.

I just suck.

Ha!

Proof.

Just because he wasn't
hit in the face--

Look at his pupils.

He has anisocoria,
which, given his age,

the adrenaline surge
of the fight,

the fact that
he's still alive

means he was tachycardic.

He has Wolff-Parkinson-White
syndrome.

The bet was on
who would win,

not who would
live the longest.

If he's physically unable
to continue

because of
a preexisting illness,

then it's technically
a "no contest,"

which means
all bets are off.

You know that just
because I was right

about this one fighter
doesn't make you

any less of a man?

Actually,
it would if you were right.

Then as I said earlier,
prove it.

And one possibly photoshopped
cell phone pic

does not a diagnosis make.

Oh, excuse me, Dr. House.

Desole, je parle pas anglais.

I'm a co-worker
of Wendy Lee's.

I'm also her boyfriend.

Great.
I'm a guy who doesn't care.

She's your patient.

Oh, you thought I didn't
know who Wendy Lee was?

Yeah, makes sense.
I'm not good at names.

Did Dr. Fortune
tell you that?

Her last boyfriend
was a real nut.

He's basically stalking her.

See, this is what
I don't care about.

I don't care who cares
about her.

Used to care about her.

Either one you falls down dead,
you can drop me a note.

I think I know what's wrong
with her.

You screwed up
in the lab

and accidentally spilled
some bomb on her?

No.

He really is crazy.

Poisoned?

Apparently our mad scientist

is also a slutty scientist

whose milkshakes got all
the nerds in the yard

fighting over her.

She's a slut because she's dated
two different guys at work?

Oh, I'm sorry.

I thought we were
still judging her.

She's not a slut
and it's not poison.

When we tested her blood
and cerebral spinal fluid

for toxic exposure,
it was negative

for every poison
we could think of.

Well, that just leaves

every poison we didn't
think of.

She works in a bomb factory.

So do a lot of other not-sick people.

The guy had any
actual evidence

she was poisoned, he would
have gone to the police,

not to us.

And if we had any evidence
of what was wrong with her,

you'd be showing us
MRI results.

I assume they were negative.

Couldn't hurt to start activated
charcoal, see what happens.

You know what else
wouldn't hurt?

This case is getting
interesting.

Let's add a little danger.

Hmm.

Just because he has guns

doesn't make him a murderer.

Tell that to the bear.
Look in the desk.

See if he's got a diary
or a journal.

Something tells me he's
not exactly

a diary kind of guy.

Maybe a manifesto.

Just look.

I'm gonna check out
the rest of the place,

see if he's got a computer.

It's Foreman.
Yep?

You break in yet?

Yeah, we're in
the abattoir now.

Why?
You can leave.

I think Taub and I found
what we're looking for.

Looks like she actually
was being poisoned,

but she's been doing it
to herself.

I'm not an alcoholic.
I know.

I know the whole label thing
is so limiting.

You're a person who happens
to suffer from alcoholism.

You broke into my house and now
you're being a smartass?

During your history, you said
you didn't drink at all.

I don't.

- You just collect bottles.
- Yes.

I collect them for my friend.

She uses them
in her art projects.

And you're ashamed
of these art projects.

The bottles were hidden.

That's because my housekeeper
keeps throwing them out.

I've told her
a dozen times not to,

but either she doesn't
understand or she doesn't care.

- Why would she lie?
- That's the easy question.

She needs a government security
clearance for her job.

And what's
the hard question?

If she's an alcoholic,
why doesn't she have

at least some partially-full
bottles in the house?

I mean, why keep
the empties?

Why not just
throw them away?

So she's probably
telling the truth.

So what do we do?

We start her on valium
for alcohol withdrawal.

It's the best
we've got right now.

One normal EKG does not
a healthy person make.

Look, I told you
I just suck.

Oh, you make me so sad.

- Don't talk like that.
- Why do you care so much?

Kill me for loving
my patients.

It's just what I do.

Hey, stop.
Stop!

Look, my--my leg hurts.
Okay?

Just talk to me
for a moment.

You don't have
to be a loser.

Thanks.

Whatever's wrong with you,
it's real.

Sick is good.

Sick means
you can get better.

You could get better.

And I don't mean healthier.

I mean...

Maybe you don't
have to suck.

Figure out what's wrong
with yourself.

Leave me alone.

Abdominal pain.

She said it felt like
she was being stabbed.

Ah!

Give her morphine,
5 milligrams IV.

Is it a symptom
of the underlying condition

or a symptom
of our treatment?

We'll know soon.
I stopped her treatment.

We should restart it.

Acute pancreatitis
from alcoholism

would cause
this kind of pain.

It's stress related.

She's in a lot of pain.
She's under a lot of stress.

She's got two guys
fighting over her

and she got done with
the final test of a new bomb.

Her guilt is killing her.

As far as you know,
she likes being the center

of attention
and loves her job.

As far as you know,
she doesn't drink.

What if it's a kidney infection?

Acute pyelonephritis
could kill her

if we don't
start her on IV antibiotics.

Would kill her if
it was pyelonephritis,

but since her urine
and CSF

don't show signs
of infection--

I paged House.

What?
We got nothing.

Less than nothing since he's
actually ignoring my pages,

which means we have
a sick patient

and apparently a sick boss.

Tell him you admit
he's right.

Let's get him back
to work.

If he's ignoring you,
it's because he trusts you.

No, it's not.

No, it's not,
but he does.

Thanks.
I feel warm inside.

Right now I'm debating

which bad idea I should
pretend is a good idea

and force everybody
to implement.

I think this is
good for him.

Obsessing over a bet
is good?

And doing his actual job,
treating actual patients,

that's bad?

House only doing
what House wants

is the only way
he can function.

Since the breakup,
he's been seeking out

crazier and crazier things
to do because they're crazy.

This is--well,
it's not crazy.

No, just irresponsible
and possibly dangerous.

By House standards,
it's dull.

This he's doing

just because he's interested.

I think House
getting back to doing...

Stupid House stuff
for stupid House reasons

is the best thing
that could happen to him.

I'll go explain that
to the patient.

It's definitely not pancreatitis.

Restarting the treatment
obviously didn't help anything.

I assume you tested
for infections.

And I assume that look means
"yes, and I was wrong."

You call for a psych consult?

Wow.

That's the same look
I just got from Chase.

So an hour ago,
we had three theories

we couldn't agree on.

Now we've got no theories,
but we're in agreement.

CT and ultrasound
showed inflammation

in the renal capsule.

Could be
an obstructing calculus

or a perinephric abscess.

Blood cultures
came back negative.

It's probably just
a benign cyst.

Yes, let's just dismiss an idea
because it's probably nothing.

Could be gas in the perinephric space,

in which case,
we should be prepping her

for emergency surgery.

What looks like
Wolff-Parkinson-White

but isn't?

Her EKG was normal.
So was his.

That's why I said "looks like."

As in similar to,
but not the same.

You want us to help you
get out of paying your bet

while your actual patient
lies in agony.

Who's the real
bad guy here?

The guy who doesn't
care enough to help

or the four guys who are
not competent enough to help?

He works out too much,
gets pounded too much,

and not in the romantic way.

His pupils--
I got it.

Your patient?
No.

Plenty of time
to save her life

after we save my money.

Underlying neurological
condition

exacerbated by an acute UTI
brought on

by her sexual escapades.

Slut?
Escapades?

How do we treat?
A Scarlet "A"?

Sorry.

Acute UTI brought on

by her healthy enjoyment
of her womanhood.

We start her on IV ampicillin
and an aminoglycoside.

You ignore us all the time.

You go on crazy joyrides
all the time.

But you answer pages,
you sleep.

I know I'm gonna
regret doing this,

but I'll ask anyway.

Is there anything
I can do to help?

Although...

Great news!

You have an underlying
neurological condition,

which together
with your heart--

you said
my heart was fine.

Yeah, I also said I would
get you your career back.

But it doesn't seem
to matter

since you've so
clearly been handed

the golden spit bucket.

Sympathetic overdrive.

It's a medical term.

So is "great news."

Of course,
if you prefer wallowing...

All you need is a chin.

And a heart,
apparently.

Then you can go back

to being the guy who won

20 of his first 20
instead of the guy

who lost 5 of his last 5.

Although, technically, I count
the last one as a "no contest."

And you save 50 bucks.
I'm a doctor.

I don't tell a fat guy to
lay off bacon for less than 300.

This is about dignity
for both of us.

Give me your arm.

Give me your arm.

What the hell?

Don't worry.

It's just epinephrine.

Ep--is it dangerous?

In the wrong hands, very.

So...Yeah, sort of.

This will only take
a few seconds.

And...you are tachycardic.

Yo, are you psycho?

We combine the increased
heart rate with chest trauma

by applying a little
sweet science to the science.

Don't worry.

I'll--I'll explain more
when you wake up.

Now, the punch that
supposedly knocked you out

looked like it was thrown
by an old cripple.

Kind of like this.

Look, stop it.

Three...

Two, one.

Huh.

Seem to be older and more
crippled than I thought.

Look--no.
You're embarrassing me.

Doesn't make sense.

Maybe if I--

Look, get the hell out
of my life, you lunatic.

She's in V-tach.
BP's dropping.

Whatever you're doing
isn't working again.

There's got to be some way
to stop the seizures.

It's not a seizure.
She's having a heart attack.

No pulse.
That's impossible!

She runs marathons!

Charging to 200.
Clear.

Still no pulse.

Charging to 300.

Why is this happening?
Clear.

My theory is that
he's only avoiding us

because he really
wants to avoid you.

Ma nishtanah?

You made it through med school
without ever attending a Seder?

It means
"why is this night different

from all other nights?"

I'm not sure it is.

But usually when push
comes to shove, he shows up.

If the patient's still alive,
then push hasn't met shove yet.

Patient is hanging
by a thread

and we don't have
a clue why.

Then we have to assume
he does and she isn't.

We could or we could
assume that something

is seriously wrong
with House

and try to do something
about that.

This way, even if we're wrong,
nobody dies.

House is fine.

House is always fine.

I'm expanding my theory.

He's avoiding you
and you're avoiding him

and this patient
is gonna die.

Not if you do your job.

You're an idiot.

How did you get in here?

My boss has me break
into places all the time.

Pain has been getting worse.

I figured if I upped
the Vicodin any more,

I'd end up back
in a rubber room,

so this seemed
like the smarter choice.

You're an idiot.

You drove all the way
over here

to break in
and call me an idiot?

No, I drove all the way
over here to tell you

we're implanting an automated
cardio-defibrillator,

which won't actually do anything
to help the patient

except maybe give us enough time
to come up with a guess

as to what's actually
wrong with her.

Oh, that makes more sense.

And I broke in here
because Cuddy and Wilson

both separately asked me to.

Even more logical.

And that's not heroin,

which means you knew
I was coming over here,

and Cuddy and Wilson
are right.

You're just playing a game.

Throwing out a bone
and watching us fight over it.

There is another theory.

Compound CS-804.

It's an experimental drug

that's supposed
to regrow muscle.

This experiment
was done on rats.

It's groundbreaking.
Huge success.

In rats.

Well, they got four legs.

Think how fast
it should work on one.

You're an idiot.

We've got a problem.

AICD not working?

If it's the defibrillator,
I'd be looking elsewhere.

Smells like bleeding.

Rectal?

And vaginal.

Is it possible something got
perforated during surgery?

Is that an accusation?

Sounded like a question.

Just a straightforward inquiry

that only someone
with serious insecurities

would take issue with.

Okay, so in answering,
I have to decide

between the only
two possibilities.

"No" and "yes, we might have
screwed something up,

"but are intentionally
hiding it

because we're incompetent
and we're asses."

Answer is "no."

Glad we didn't shortchange
that avenue.

It's a blood disorder.

A coagulopathy.
That's not a diagnosis.

That's like saying
she has a runny nose.

True, but not saying
she has a runny nose

risks getting snot
all over us.

We can treat it.
Cause could still be a toxin.

She must have been exposed
to who knows--

Past tense, which means
she would have been better

now that she's not.

Same goes for House.

If this was about Cuddy,

he would have checked out
weeks ago.

Something else is going on.
Something new.

That's an awfully
simplistic approach

to matters of the heart.

House is rational.
He prides himself--

no one is rational
about emotion.

That's why they're emotions.

What do you think?

Me? I didn't say anything.
Exactly.

You always have some opinion
on these things,

especially
when it comes to House,

double especially when
it comes to men and romance,

but suddenly you're keeping
your mouth shut.

House can't help us.

I respect his privacy,

no matter how stupid
and I'd appreciate it

if you'd respect mine.

We need to treat
the underlying condition.

Could be cancer, sepsis,
trauma,

liver disease,
hemorrhagic fever--

I'm gonna start treating
the symptoms

while you finish listing
the possible causes.

The rats are doing great.

"Great" is a little vague.

Even better than
the previous study.

12% increase in strength,

22% in flexibility,
and some improvement

in at least 60%
of the subjects.

Have you done maximum
tolerated dose studies?

Not yet.

But that's part
of the beauty.

Since the compound
is easily excreted in urine,

as long as they keep hydrated,

there's really no reason
to expect any danger

at virtually any dose.

I mean, obviously you can't
know for sure.

But if it's worthy
of the preface "obviously,"

then obviously it only needs
to be explained to idiots.

Do I look like an idiot?

Sorry.

Cranky.

What I meant
to say was:

Why don't scientists
have groupies?

'Cause I'd do you right now
if society wasn't telling me

that you're just
an underpaid dork.

Thank you.

You all right?

Leg hurts.

Would you mind
getting me a coffee?

How does coffee
help your leg?

It will prevent me
from walking to get the coffee.

Right.

Page said she's now bleeding
from her mouth.

You start treatment?

I said I would.

A "yes" would have been fine.

Not asking the question
would have been even better.

Any breathing issues?

No, but--

I'm not sure
it's internal.

If it's coming from both ends,
it's internal.

Her gums look like
they were burned.

Experimental drugs?

That's unfair.

'Cause at one point,
even Vicodin

was an experimental drug.

I have to go.

Well, unless you're going
to do your job,

it can wait.
I'm going to do my job.

I'll give you a lift.

I'll give you two minutes.

But first, I'm gonna tell you
that I'm off the drugs

and you'll feel silly
'cause you've got

nothing to say
for two minutes.

Hmm.

Why are you off them?

Because they don't work.

Why were you on them?

Because they come
in banana flavor.

You know the answer.

You think fixing your leg
will fix your life.

I think that my life
will be somewhat better

if part of my life,
specifically my leg,

is somewhat better.

You think all your problems
are your leg.

And you're here to tell me
that no matter

how depressed I may be,
it's not enough.

I think you want everything
to be physical, tangible,

simple.

You want unhappiness
to have a cure.

House, you obviously--

I hate that word.

I have to go now.

Actually, I don't,

but it would be rude to walk out
without saying anything.

What about this?

28-year-old woman
presenting with burn-like wounds

in her mouth and esophagus

from a candidiasis infection.

Interesting.

It would also be relevant
if the woman had had seizures.

If the fungus had entered
her bloodstream--

we would have seen it
in the blood work.

Acute myeloid leukemia

can cause swelling
in the gums.

Again, interesting
but not relevant.

Again, you're being an ass.

She doesn't have a history
of blood diseases in her family,

her blood count's normal,
and she hasn't

been exposed
to chemical toxins.

Not that we know of.

Guy that she works most closely
with is also her boyfriend.

You don't think
he would have told us

if there had been some sort
of chemical spill or accident?

There is one other cause
of AML.

Wait!

Where are you taking her?

We need to get her
into an isolation room

and prep for a hematopoietic
stem cell transplant.

Isolation? Why?

We think her blood
and immune system

have been destroyed by an
exposure to ionizing radiation.

But we don't work
with radiation.

Well, apparently
your girlfriend does.

No, she doesn't.
You're wrong.

It must be something else.

We found reports
that your company

was developing tactical
nuclear warheads

for bunker-busting bombs.

Where? On Wikipedia?
Some paranoid idiot's blog?

I don't care where
you read it.

It's not true.

You're saying there's
absolutely no chance

that anyone in your company
is doing

any experimental research
that you don't know about?

No, but I know Wendy
and she wouldn't.

Well, maybe you don't know her
as well as you thought you did.

Excuse me.
We have to go.

You need a drink.

I'm fine.

That wasn't a question.

You really do need a drink.

Found a match.

We'll start treatment
as soon

as we get the HSC
from the donor.

Shouldn't be long.

Where's Cesar?

Uh, he's
in the waiting room.

I want to see him.

You can't.

It's too dangerous with your
immune system this compromised.

Why can't he just put on
a gown and a mask like you?

I'm sorry.

The more people
you're exposed to,

the greater chance
of infection.

I'm scared.

I know.

We're doing everything
that we can.

Cesar will be
with you soon.

Dr. Foreman,
you should look at this.

What is it?

You feeling any pain
in your pelvic region?

No, why?

Your genitals...
They're engorged.

I drink any more,
I'm gonna explode.

You're not going
to explode.

You're just gonna
have a seizure,

which will prove that
your kidneys are not working,

which will also prove that they
weren't working Saturday night.

That's why a glancing
body blow

sent your blood pressure
into the toilet

and you onto the canvas.

How many bottles
is this supposed to take?

Six.

And I've drank how many?

Eight.

It's not an exact science.

So in other words,

nothing's gonna
prove you wrong.

You're just gonna keep
making me miserable

because you're too miserable--

you're an idiot.

No, you're not
gonna hit me...

'Cause somewhere deep in that
way-too-thin skull of yours

you know that you're
full of crap.

That's why you stopped
jogging for me.

That's why you drank
eight bottles.

Because even though you want
to think that I'm wrong

'cause it's simpler,
you also desperately want me

to be right.

I'm only an ass for building
your hopes up if I'm wrong.

Last one.

You're an ass.

You were wrong.

It's not the end
of the world.

Anything else
you want to say?

You have a problem.

I think if you
seriously look

at everything that--

anything else?

Okay, look, this isn't--

okay! Okay!
Okay! Okay!

No...I don't.

Just get out of here.

Go home.
We'll talk later.

Someplace without
any of my stuff.

Nothing to talk about.

That was my point.

Inflammation of the genitals

means we were wrong.

Thanks for the statement
of the obvious.

You'd think so,
wouldn't you?

Foreman wants to keep shooting
for radiation poisoning.

Because the seizure's
have stopped.

Because her fever's gone away.

- Because she's improved.
- By luck.

I don't think
the patient cares.

Yes, she's gonna die
in considerably less discomfort

thanks to you treating
a few of the symptoms

instead of the disease.

I paged Ho--
Shut up.

You're drunk.

Well, whose fault is that?

Give me another scotch.

I can't serve you.

This 'cause I'm black?

'Cause I'm not, so...

Come on, buddy.

Look, you can't get me drunk
and then give me crap

for being drunk.

That's like
dumping someone

and then giving them crap
for being upset.

That's just not decent.

Let me explain
why people come here.

They come here to drink.

Which causes us to ask,
why do people drink?

Hmm?
Is it sustenance?

No.
Is it taste?

No.
Don't be a jerk.

Is it the company
of stout-hearted men?

I don't think so.

Is it killing pain?

Yes.

7 1/2% life duller.

That's the business you're in.

You're in the "screw the world"
business.

You're in the
"reality sucks

and fantasy temporarily appears
to not suck" business.

Just get the moron a drink
so he'll shut the hell up.

No.

I'm giving you your drink.
Have you no pride?

Either serving me is a good idea
or it's a bad idea.

Shutting me up
is a crappy reason

for compromising
what you believe.

Not even an effective one
apparently.

Am I gonna have to hit him?

Not a good idea.

But what if it's
the right thing to do?

Compromise is never
the answer.

Stand up.

I will allow you
to throw the first punch.

Sit down.

I'm not gonna hit you.

Just as well,
'cause I was lying.

You can relax.

She's getting better?

Bad news is, because
of your extended exposure to her

and her workplace,
we're gonna need

to treat you as well.

I feel fine.

Unfortunately that's the way
it can be with radiation.

No symptoms until it's too late
to do anything.

You're gonna need
a bone marrow transplant.

No.

A marrow transplant does
leave you exposed

to all sorts
of illnesses,

but there really is
no choice here.

She doesn't have
radiation poisoning.

She's getting better.

We need to start
your treatment

before it's too late.

No.

You're either suicidal

or you know we're wrong.

And the only way you could
know for sure

what wasn't killing her is
if you knew what was.

And you do,
don't you?

Because you've been
poisoning her

and the reason
she's getting better

is because you haven't
been near her.

Our co-workers are
on their way

to your home right now
to search for poisons.

You mind saving them
the trouble?

Attempted murder
is better than murder.

What are you doing here?

Training for my big fight.

Just need you to--

drink five more bottles?

Get punched a few more times?

Look, just get out
and give up.

That's your specialty.

Ooh, looks like you already
lost your big fight.

Look, I may not be able
to take a punch,

but I can still throw one.

Three, two...

What a lovely day.

Where's Cesar?

Um...In jail.

He was trying to kill you.

He found out
about you and Glenn,

which, he admitted,
shouldn't have surprised him

since he started seeing you
while you were dating Tony.

He poisoned me?

Repeatedly...
With Spanish fly.

The active ingredient
cantharidin is a potent toxin

and can cause a lot
of the same damage as radiation.

He poisoned me?

I'm sorry.

He had a security clearance.

Ahem!

What's this?

A palm.

Hmm, useful for
many things.

Slapping, greasing, probably
some other applications too.

Right now it's ready
for $50 and humiliation.

He was actually sick?

He wasn't knocked out
by the punch.

He was knocked out by
the clinch before the punch.

Took a shot to the back
of the neck.

More specifically,
to an abnormal growth of nerves

caused by a glomus tumor.

Kind of like a built-in taser.

Sent a massive shock
to his entire body,

shut everything down.

Wow.
Fascinating.

Completely explains exactly
how he lost.

Oh, you are not gonna
be like that,

'cause you got
a lot more posters here.

No, I'm not.

Well done, House.

You might have saved
that guy.

Given him his life back.

Oh, no.
He needs surgery.

He's never gonna fight again.

What happened to your eye?

You okay?

Better than okay.

♪ 'Cause that unseen eye
is watching you ♪

♪ ♪

♪ please don't let
your right hand ♪

♪ know what your left hand do ♪

♪ ♪

♪ I'm just trying to put
your boots on you ♪

♪ and hip you, woman ♪

♪ 'cause that unseen eye
is watching you ♪

♪ ♪

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