We cut to Melinda on an examining table, the parents she hates at her side. Foreman says that Melinda has "stoppage gait," which is "not necessarily" serious. So obviously, she's doomed. Indeed, the muscles above Melinda's knee start spasming, which Foreman says means that Melinda's stoppage gait is actually ascending paralysis of unknown origin.

After the commercial, Melinda's paralysis is spreading quickly up her leg. House studies the Whiteboard and mutters that if they couldn't link the heart failure and the anaphylaxis to each other, then they certainly won't be able to link heart failure, anaphylaxis, and paralysis. Cameron offers up a diagnosis of tick paralysis that everyone laughs at, since they didn't find a tick anywhere on Melinda's body and they've already explained the anaphylaxis away with the penicillin sperm. Foreman wants to pretend that the heart failure and anaphylaxis didn't happen and concentrate solely on the paralysis, since that will kill her first -- a tactic that worked so well when he tried to do it for her heart failure before. Everyone offers up a few suggestions, including old favorite Guillain-Barré, and House orders up a bunch of tests to check for all of them. He even admits that Foreman is right that they need to figure out what's causing the paralysis, which shocks the Cottages into speechless amazed stares, for which House promptly makes fun of them all.

The tests are performed, and they don't look like fun. Foreman tells Melinda's mother that the only thing they found out is that Melinda's paralysis is getting worse, and that they've ruled out everything except Guillain-Barré, which Foreman is happy to report can be cured with plasma electrophoresis, a process that I'd take the time to explain if we didn't all know it won't work, since there are still twenty-five minutes left in the show.

House returns home to find Wilson waiting for him, his arms crossed angrily, his weight shifting impatiently. He demands to know why all the voicemail messages his would-be landlord claims to have left last week were mysteriously erased. I'd say it's because Wilson gave the landlord the house number of the guy he was staying with instead of his personal cell-phone number. House says he has decided that he wants Wilson to stay with him and not move out to his own place -- delivering this speech as he touches his own penis. No, not that way -- he's taking a piss. And, in true man fashion, he's doing it with the door open while having a conversation with another guy. The realism is compromised, though, by the fact that House's pee is completely silent, just like it was during last week's public peeing display. These seem to be becoming a weekly feature, even more frequent than those Clinic patients I miss so much. More frequent that Cuddy's appearances, for that matter. Anyway, House is most displeased that Wilson did not put plastic wrap all over the toilet seat, since he apparently enjoys mopping piss up off his floor. Wilson shouts that he's not about to start acting like an eighteen-year-old in a college dorm by doing pranks most eight-year-olds are too mature for. And haven't we all already seen The Parent Trap? Do we really need to see another English person faking an American accent and setting prank booby traps? Wilson doesn't; he says he'll be looking for an apartment tomorrow. House doesn't think Wilson will be looking for a place at all, since getting his own apartment will mean that his marriage really is over, and House doesn't think Wilson wants to accept that yet. Except for the fact that Wilson already had his own place until House sabotaged it. "Everything sucks. Might as well find something to smile about," House concludes. Wise words indeed from a guy who covers his guests in honey and feathers while they sleep.