“House,” you have abused me long enough. You have bewildered me with your nonsensical plot lines, badly written dialogue, anvils dropping faster than summer rain…but this time, “Body And Soul” crossed the line.
Greg drags me to hell and back in this giant wrecked parking garage, I get bent all kinds of ways, we have to go home WITHOUT the cane! So I’m not only throbbing, I’m burning, stabbing, aching, off the charts on the pain scale! Greg doesn’t take the fucking Vicodin! It’s not a moral decision, jerk-off, it’s PAIN! What about PAIN don’t you understand at this point? Man, I was seriously pissed, but it’s not like I have hands or a mouth or free will. I’m just a goddamned leg, for Christ’s sake.
Then Cuddy showed up and I had to act like I wasn’t in shrieking pain because Greg was getting all like “wow, she’s here, I’ve wanted to bone her since the Crusades! And I looooove her.” They kiss and through some sort of magical endorphin boner process, I’m not supposed to hurt. AFTER ONE OF THE WORST DAYS OF MY LIFE.
Yes, the leg was extremely upset.
In reverse, last night’s episode was horrendous with a shattering ending.
The press release claimed the story was about dreams. There were dreams, and hallucinations. Why, why, WHY do they keep going back to hallucinations? If it weren’t for hallucinations, vomiting blood and paralysis, “House” would be ten minutes long.
The POTW is a cute little eight-year-old boy from Hmong ancestry. Whatever that is. Somebody in the comments can explain it, because I don’t care enough to look it up. Besides, the Hmongs on the internet are complaining the show got it all wrong. Amazing how many people this show can piss off.
Cute Hmong Boy dreams he is being choked by his late grandmother and wakes with acute respiratory distress. House brings several boxes of files to the team about Sudden Unexpected Nocturnal Death Syndrome among males in the Hmong community. They eventually decide to look into infection, as well as the possibility of inhaled toxins.
Hmong Mom is an engineer, but Scary Hmong Father-in-Law is convinced that Cute Hmong Boy is possessed by demons. The young lad does have a collection of symptoms as assorted as a Halloween trick-or-treat bag. The most striking symptom is levitating. (And no, they never really explain the levitation, which sucks since it’s the only interesting symptom and looked good in the promos).
“Man, that is some seriously sick shit.”
Cute Possessed Hmong Boy speaks in tongues, wakes up from another choking dream with bruises on his neck, and crashes every five minutes.
One of the boy’s dreams involves Scary Hmong Father-In-Law choking him, which not only looks real but also seems possible. Even logical. It hints at possible child abuse. In earlier days, child abuse often played a part in family secrets. But that was when the show made some sort of sense. Instead, oooo, is it disease or is it …SATAN?
Once again, it’s “Faith vs. Science”. This dead horse has been beaten until it’s the consistency of chopped liver.
At the patient’s home, the doctors discover a slaughtered pig and assorted voodoo-type thingies in the boy’s bedroom. Sleeping in an abattoir, now THERE’S a recipe for PTSD. Cute Hmong Boy’s father went crazy and killed his boss. Scary Hmong Father-in-Law thinks his son was also possessed. Your faithful correspondent thinks it is because the son was choked and forced to sleep in a room with large dead animals. Be that as it may, SHFIL convinces Hmong Mother to ditch common sense in favor of an exorcism. And slaughter another swine in the boy’s hospital room. Now I truly believe the show is written by the interns while the writers sit out by the pool and smoke crack.
During the exorcism, which involves pretty red cloth, Cute Hmong Boy crashes (again). Against House’s orders, Adams injects ibuprofen into the boy’s IV because she believes he has patent ductus arteriosis, which starts at birth but for some magical reason never manifested until now. Guess it was the demons.
But we’ll never know. Or care.
Park has a sex dream about Chase. Chase has a sex dream about Park, which is quite funny. Any time I can get to see Jesse Spencer without his shirt is a good time. At the end, Park decides that the reason they have sex dreams about each other is because they’re good friends and comfortable with each other. So she farts.
(I hope that means I’m good friends with George Clooney.)
Adorable Dominika is now the Dominika The Wonder Whore, as she demonstrates that she is a crack shot AND an ex-cop who reads about quantum physics in the tub. AND she’s made thousands of dollars selling knishes AND she knows how to fix small appliances AND she knows how to tilt her head adorably while delivering appalling dialogue in an adorable accent…she is House’s “dream girl”!
I’ll be in the lavatory retching if you want me.
Dominika reveals that she has fallen for House…they start kissing…ick augh bleagh Creepy Grandpa and That Girl blechh…when the INS calls and halts this abomination. Dominika discovers House done her wrong by throwing away her INS notifications. Farewell, Dominika! Don’t let the door hit your adorable ass on the way out.
Just as we’re settling back with an ice-cold martini, House visits Wilson to tell him he’s “surprisingly depressed” that Dominika has left. Wilson emotionally coldcocks House by announcing, “I have cancer. Stage Two. ” The promo for next week shows Wilson coughing up blood on House’s couch, refusing to die in the hospital.
There were three possible reactions on the part of yours truly.
The first is: “Are you joking? The oncologist gets cancer? House’s only friend gets CANCER? In time for May sweeps? Are they so cynical that they think all of the millions of fans who deserted the show will come back in droves because Wilson is probably DYING? What kind of manipulative merde is this? Why did I ever think this show had a shred of integrity?”
The second is: “Wow, Robert Sean Leonard is going to knock it out of the ballpark!”
The third is: “OH GOD NO NOT WILSON PLEASE DON’T KILL WILSON IF WILSON DIES THAN HOUSE HAS TO COMMIT SUICIDE THEY ARE NOTHING WITHOUT EACH OTHER PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T KILL WILSON OH MY GOD THAT PROMO IS UNBEARABLE TO WATCH I HATE YOU DAVID SHORE DIE DIE DIE I’M GOING TO ROLL UP IN A BALL AND CRY MYSELF TO SLEEP.”
Mine was number three. Mascara was smeared. Eyeliner washed down the cheeks. Tears streaked the NARS blush. Martinis were gulped down between sobs.
“House,” this will not stand. Pardon the pun. It was only this afternoon that one and two kicked in. Yes, I am mortified at my initial reaction.
If Wilson dies and House does an “Out of the Chute” redux, I want him to miss the pool and hit the pavement. Now THAT’S what I call a finale.
Feel free to discuss this episode in the comments, and remember, I am always right.
Elisa & Fletcher