The pill bottle is looking alarmingly near-empty when House is back at his place. He puts it down for a second while he calls his parents. He leaves a message on their answering machine, since they are apparently out at "Aunt Sara's." SHOUT-OUT?! I doubt it, since Sara tends to be a fairly common name. If this show ever has a Clinic patient dying the most horrible death ever and that patient is named something like "Mara Sorrison," then maybe. Hey, they could even get me to play the part! I'm very good at screaming in pain. I'd even let them show me bleeding out of my ass. And Deran Sarafian could shoot the entire scene up my nose! Call me! Okay, so, House laughs that his hated father is probably drunk and his sainted mother is probably eating a dried-out turkey and trying to act like it tastes great. House pauses for a scary length of time, and then sadly wishes both parents a Merry Christmas and hangs up. Then he finishes off a glass of Maker's Mark and the rest of his pills. Well, at least he's not cutting himself, I guess.
A knock on the door carries us into the next scene. It's Wilson, saying that he's checking up on House to make sure he's okay after calling three times and not getting an answer. He enters the apartment and finds House on the floor next to a small pool of vomit. And really nasty-looking vomit, too. I know all vomit looks nasty, but this is all white and chunky. The worst kind! Wilson rushes over and turns House over; he's conscious, but not very with it. And gross. Wilson spots an empty pill bottle and picks it up, seeing that it's Mr. Zebalusky's bottle. It also says "not to exceed four per day." House has taken over seven times this amount. And had a lot to drink. He's lucky he's not dead. Or maybe he thinks he's unlucky he's not dead; I can't figure out whether that call home was his sort of suicide note or what. House kind of rolls around on the floor, and sort of seems to acknowledge Wilson's presence in the room. He's not there for long, though, as he stands up, throws the pill bottle on the ground next to House, and leaves. He's leaving to call an ambulance, right? Or go get Cameron to do some home nursing? He's not just leaving the ODing guy on the floor, right? Right?
And then we're in Shitter's office. It's after 2 in the morning, and House stops by to visit. He seems remarkably healthy for someone who was passed out on the floor in his own vomit a few hours ago. As for Shitter, well, it's a few hours into Christmas Day, and he's sitting at his desk, charging Princeton an assload of overtime pay. I'm just going to imagine that he's there to follow up on a case involving a rapist-murderer and actually doing some meaningful police work so that my head doesn't explode. Especially when House says that he's finally ready to take Shitter's deal, and Shitter says that it's "off the table." No, the time limit didn't run out -- Shitter got some new evidence and no longer needs Wilson's testimony, making the deal null and void. You see, Shitter got his hands on the pharmacy's log and found House signing out a dead man's drugs. Oh, goddammit, now, how did Shitter get access to pharmacy records? And death records? They'd have to be specific ones, too, stating the time of Mr. Zebalusky's death and not just the day. And all in one day, that day being Christmas Eve?! I guess House shouldn't have been so mean to Marco the Pharmacist. Or to Mrs. Zebalusky. Shitter chuckles to himself. "Jesus walks, huh?" Shitter smirks, getting his coat and heading out. So he was staying at work waiting for House to show up just to throw that in his face? How is that even worth it? It's 2 in the morning! Revenge is never more important than sleep. Especially not work-related revenge. Awful, horrible Shitter! I almost believed that he was doing the right thing until this! What a douchebag! "Merry Christmas," Shitter says as he goes. House just stands there with an "oh...shit" look on his face. I don't think we've ever seen him looking this clueless and panicky. I hope he trashed the hell out of Shitter's desk. At the very least, I hope he took a crap in one of his drawers.