My tongue is firmly planted in my cheek. Perhaps even permanently. When in doubt, mock yourself. Deny other people the pleasure. References to questionable, sexual activity. Or something like it.

In Which House Gives Dubious Consent

"Now what, Wilson?"

"This is the part where I tie you to the bed and you protest loudly, so that the readers will know for sure that your consent is dubious. Because they can't rely on their own discernment. We need to let them know -under no uncertain terms- that you are not a willing participant."

"That...actually sounds way more painful than being raped."

"Not if you do it right."

"And dubious makes me think of Sherlock Holmes, for some reason."

"No, that's indubitably."

"See that makes me think of Jimmy Durante."

"He never actually used that phrase."

"He didn't?"

"No...it was someone impersonating him in a commercial for breakfast cereal."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"What cereal?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Hey, do you want to do this or not? I can't devote all of my attention to being a victim of your violently unexpected sexual assault, if I'm going to be obsessing about the stupid cereal."

"Violently unexpected?"

"Or...unexpectedly violent. Actually either way would work."

"Fine. I think it was...Crisp...Crispy something...Crispy Critters."

"Huh...why don't I remember that?"

"God only knows."

"You'd think I'd remember something like that. I mean...having spent most of my life as a bachelor, cereal has naturally been a major staple of my diet."

"Well, don't beat yourself up about it."

"Do they still make it?"

"I...don't think so."

"Did you eat it?"

"I might have."

"What did it taste like?"

"Crispy, House. It tasted crispy."

"Crispy is not a taste."

"House...focus."

"I want to know about the cereal."

"Oh for God's sake..."

"Ah...okay. Like this? No! No...don’t do it! Please!"

"I really hope that's not the best you can do."

"Well we don't all have your wealth of community theater experience, Wilson. Some of us actually played sports in school."

"Could you at least pretend to emote?"

"I'm not sure I can do that...you want me to cry?"

"Can you cry?"

"I...don't...no."

"I thought not."

"I could make some vague references to my questionable medical history and alleged childhood abuse."

"That would be perfect."

"Alright...give me a second to get into the right frame of mind."

"Of course. You want me to stand back?"

"Hey, do you want to rape me or not?"

"Sorry, Mr. Brando. Take all the time you need."

"Okay...here I go. Oh Wilson! Please don't! My virgin, chaste hole quakes in fear of your menacing pork sword! I’ve been shot and electrocuted and biopsied against my will! I've endured hours of ambiguous suffering at the hands of the man who raised me, who was not in fact my biological relation!"

"That’s...a bit wordy."

"You didn't say anything about being succinct. You got somewhere else you need to be?"

"You know...it's very possible that this...isn't your thing."

"Everybody's a critic."

"How about if you just stick to no?"

"Seems like a bit of an oversimplification, wouldn't you think?"

"Sometimes simpler is better."

"Yeah...but how are the readers supposed to know for sure that my consent is dubious? Sometimes no means yes. Sometimes no means maybe. They might just think I'm playing hard to get, or that we're actually in a trusting relationship and can clearly interpret one another's true intentions."

"It's all in how you say it."

"How am I supposed to say it?"

"To imply...adamant disinterest."

"Why do I get the feeling that before we have sex, you spend twenty minutes skimming through your thesaurus?"

"I have an impressive vocabulary. That's a crime?"

"Suddenly you're worried about breaking the law? I thought you were supposed to be raping me."

"Well I might, if you could get on with it."

"Fine. What was it you wanted me to say?"

"Uh...I believe we decided on no."

"No."

"Maybe...maybe just raise your voice a bit."

"No!"

"And try to sound...terrified, like you really believe that I'm not only going to hurt you....but I'm going to enjoy it."

"NO! NO! NO!"

"You can’t stop me, House! Despite the fact that neither of us are under the influence of any drugs or alcohol at the moment, you will inevitably succumb to my insatiable libido. You're quite obviously incapable of defending yourself, even though you're in excellent physical shape and easily outweigh me by thirty pounds!"

"Oh now who’s being wordy?"

"Will you concentrate on being violated?"

"Right...sorry. Stop! The horror! I’m not enjoying this at all. The erection is just my body’s natural response to fear! I am fettered by the chains of my low self esteem and deep desire to please you...despite the intolerable pain."

"I take back what I said. You're awesome at this."

"Thanks. I mean...help! Someone get this sex crazed monster off of me!"

"This is the part where I shudder uncontrollably and have the most intense orgasm of my entire life. Then I collapse in a heap on top of you, and our bodily fluids mingle in a pool between us."

"That sounds kind of gross."

"Well I've got some of those sanitary wipes."

"So...we're done?"

"Yep."

"Should I call the cops?"

"No, you're far too self loathing. So you would never seek legal help, even if you needed it. You'd just add this to the list of unfortunate experiences, which have contributed to your jaded view of humanity."

"Way to make me sound like a comic book villain. Do I live in an underground fortress?"

"No...but you're always welcome to visit my underground fortress."

"Has that ever actually...worked on anyone?"

"Many times."

"Wow. You really are a monster..."

Crispy Critters was a breakfast cereal that was made by Post in 1987. The commercials featured a puppet named Crispy who spoke and sang with a voice based on that of singer-actor Jimmy Duante and included his well known catch phrase ha-cha-cha. The cereal's slogan was it's indubitably delicious.