Clinic Exam Room let's say One. A middle-aged man in a sleeveless sweater worn over an open-collared shirt -- basically, it's every creepy child-molester outfit worn by Dylan Baker's character in every frame of Happiness -- seems to be in the middle of a story regarding his urge to urinate and then his subsequent inability to do so. He worries that it's his prostate, but House assures him, "You have herpes." They each repeat the word "herpes" nine thousand times, until House helpfully defuses the banter: "Your turn." House attempts to comfort the man by telling him the number of people who come into the hospital with "some kind of crotch rot," but somehow that doesn't seem to make him feel that much better. Because this is House -- where patients are liars and everybody cheats and David Shore had his heart broken real good once by SOMEBODY -- the man gives a naive speech about the impossibility of having contracted a sexually transmitted disease. He's been married twenty years and he's never had sex with anyone but his wife. To which House observes, "Bummer." He gives the man a prescription and tells him to take it once a day and have his wife do the same. When the man protests again that there must be some kind of mistake, House moves on to the all-important psychological component of his job: "You got any kids?" The man does. "Any of them take guitar lessons?" No. "Tennis? Art? Acting?" His daughter does karate. At which House writes one more prescription, advising, "Give this to her sensei." He scribbles and scribbles, ripping a sheet off the pad and telling the man, "For Miyagi." To cure or control an outbreak of herpes House believes to have broken out as a result of Miyagi's waxing on and waxing off another man's wife.
"I need you to pant, kind of like a dog," Cameron tells Patient Bob The Not Rapist. He has a blue tube down his throat during the scene in which a patient is in a vulnerable position and has something spontaneous and terrible happen to him just at the moment of the act break. As Bob pants, Cameron turns to his omnipresent wife, standing just beside her, and asks, "The threesome and the role-playing...is that because things get boring?" The wife says that they just enjoy their fantasies, adding, "Marriages don't fail because couples get bored." They fail because people pretend to be who they're not while they're dating, and there's only so long you can keep that up. Cameron posits, "Maybe they are that person while they're dating, and then they change." Nope. Wifey (she really doesn't have a name yet, does she?) forebodingly says that thinking people will change is another reason marriages fail. From the safety and comfort of his blue tube, Bob winks at his wife, and she winks back at him, though her other eye kind of closes as well. She's not a good blinker, is all I'm saying. Oh, and I don't love her pinched little face, either. Other than that, she's America's Sweetheart. "People don't change," Wifey buttons. "At least not in any way that really matters." Wifey stares into the distance. Cameron's worldview collapses. I can't believe this scene ended without this man in a coma.