House
Detox

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No Pain, No Gain

Well, folks, I've got good news, and I've got bad news. The bad news is that I haven't recapped anything in ages, so this might suck. The good news is that we've decided to add House to the site's roster for next fall...but only if all of you promise to call it Hizzy, as I cannot seem to stop doing. Deal? Okay, cool. And now, the episode.

Fade up on a couple of kids making out in a bedroom while The Guitar Music of Imminent Nookie plays in the background. I immediately recognize the dude as Larry Fouch from Election, the kid who challenged Mr. McAllister and got snapped at by the principal. This episode is practically old home week for that movie, as we'll see shortly, but anyway, Larry's fish-faced, pink-brassiered blonde girlfriend -- Veronica Mars's Lilly Kane, but I recognized her as the dumb Plastic in Mean Girls -- is writhing humpily on top of him, and stops to ask, "What do you say now?" Larry doesn't know. Fishface wheedles that he said his dad wouldn't be home for an hour; Larry is all stammery and unsure; Fishface wants to know if he loves her, and he says of course, and we're meant to think she's pressuring him to have sex. He gives in, finally, and after some more Hoover-esque smooching, Fishface asks, "Where are they?" "Nightstand," Larry tells her, and she leans over and retrieves...a set of car keys. Wah wah. "Gentlemen, start your engines," she says. Shut up, Fishface. You were awesome in Mean Girls, but you're annoying me here, and the part of the episode where Larry barfs on you (spoiler!) can't come soon enough for me.

Revving engines on the soundtrack segue us to Fishface ignoring important principles of road safety as she screeches down a twisty road in Larry's dad's Porsche, hooting and hollering and woo-ing. I would be freaking shit Cameron-Frye-style if I were Larry, but he seems to be having fun, and they're both laughing, but then Larry isn't so much laughing as coughing, and as Fishface tries to pass the pokey white car in front of them, Larry is hacking up a lung. Fishface threads the needle between two cars -- looks like a Probe and a Taurus, like, yes, FOX, we know you want us to consume the Ford Motor Company's fine automotive product -- and zips back into the right lane with much offended honking from the other two cars, and then she checks the rearview all smugly, and there's the white car behind the Porsche, and why am I taking what seems like for-e-ver to tell you what's up with Tuberculosis Larry in the meantime? Because that's how the scene sets it up -- you can hear Larry borking away the whole time, but the director didn't cut back to him for what felt like ages, and it's really tense. Nice work. Anyway, Fishface is looking in the rearview when -- oh, hello, chunks of Larry's bronchial tissue! The mirror is suddenly spattered with blood, and Fishface looks over at him for about AN HOUR while she's supposedly driving 30 mph above the speed limit and yells over the engine, "Oh my God, you're bleeding," and predictably, Larry reaches up to touch his bloody mouth and then turns back to the road and bellows, "LOOK OUT!" Fishface slams on the brakes and the car does a spinning 270 under a tractor trailer and comes safely to a stop. Not the result I was expecting. Larry and Fishface sit, breathing heavily.

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House

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