"You Can Take The Oncologist Out Of New Jersey"

Author's note: This is "The Greatest CrakFik! Of all Time!!"

It's a lovely House/Surprise Crossover story that definitely needed to be written by someone, and I wrote it. It's definitely of the Mature type, and the various ratings/standards and practices/you've been warned/ I don't own anything supplementals apply. And so, let the anarchy begin...

Jeff Bridges screamed.

"Is this Tron? Why are we watching Tron?" Wilson dropped onto the couch as the moppet Bridges leapt from one glowstick to another. "You've got to be kidding me. This movie is the nerdiest movie ever, and now that every post- Weezer nerd has 80s nostalgia, it's considered the greatest movie since Fellini's 81/2."

House sat there, concentrating on the movie as he fished out a noodle with his fingers, and raised it above his head. It wiggled back and forth, flipping oily juice over a two foot radius. "I'm sorry, did you say something? I was trying to enjoy the awesomeness that is David Warner."


"Shut up, my ramen noodles are getting cold, and these are the expensive gourmet ones."

"You're complaining about something that costs seventeen cents a pack instead of the generic 12 cent pack?" Wilson replied, managing to snatch a few noodles for himself.

"Why are you still talking? This is the best part of the movie: Jeff Bridges proves his integrity by not killing a 12-bit game sprite. And this is on the Disney Channel, so I can't rewind."

"If you like it that much, why don't you buy it? You make like over two hundred thousand dollars a year."

"Because it would clash with my porno collection."

"You don't have-" Wilson replied, only to be interrupted by his cell phone. He reached out to grab it off the table, but House snatched at it first. "I'm terribly sorry, but Wilson has just been zapped into a computer mainframe, and can't come out until he kills the evil carousel of doom with a Frisbee," House said, then snapped the cell shut.


"If it's important, then they'll call back."

The phone vibrated in House's hand. Wilson lunged again for it again, only for House to punch the speaker phone button.

"Hello? Dr. Wilson? Are you there? It's Cat."

House waved the phone around in the air.

"Yes, I'm here, Cat." Wilson sighed.

"I need more."

"Did the prescription not work?"

"No! I wouldn't be calling if it did! I weighed myself again, and I'm down to 94 pounds. I haven't eaten in two days!"

"I'll see what I can do. You only have two weeks left of chemo left, and I know that you're a fighter. We'll get through this. But you have to be patient. It'll be at least two hours before I can get it to you."

"Thanks, Dr. Wils-."

House snapped the RAZR closed, ending the conversation. "Going somewhere?" He asked as Wilson started to put his shoes back on.

"Have to pick up some medicine for a patient."

"Walgreen's closed?"

"She can't drive."

"Delivery service shut down for the night?"

"House… I just need to go."


Wilson looked up at the ceiling, "Leonardo, New Jersey," he finally answered.


"It's about an hour away- if I'm lucky."

"You can't just bust out the Costco lorazepam megabucket that I know you've got stashed in your office?"

"She's allergic to benzodiazepine. Plus it's liver cancer, so…"

"Right: the mysterious one-hour prescription drug pick up it is."

"You can't come."

"But… I'm a big boy now," House whined, grabbing his cane and jacket out of the closet, "I've got the draft card to prove it."

"Fine- but you have to promise me that you won't get angry."

"Me? Angry? I might get a bit peeved from time to time, even a bit bemused. But never angry."

"I mean it, House. Or I will leave you there. And it's very hard to get out of Leonardo."

"I promise."

An hour and a half later.

"Jesus, where are we?"

"East New Jersey. Took a bit longer than I thought it would. I think they moved the store on me."

"And we're here for… drugs?"

"I grew up in this area." Wilson started. "Most people never make it out. I've only just started coming back recently. Oh, there it is." He turned right onto a one-way going left, and parked cockeyed in the front parking. "Don't worry. The one-way sign is more of a suggestion than anything. Here's ten dollars, go get some beef jerky or something. By the way, the video store probably isn't open, so don't even try to rent anything on my account." He ordered, getting out of the Volvo.

"Don't worry, I won't rent Panty Raider 12; I already own the director's cut," House replied as he entered the store.

He went to the magazine rack, flipped through a few rags, then shoved the whole paper wad back into the metal rat trap. Grabbing a bag of Gardetto's, he listened as a guy stood behind the counter and bantered uninterestedly with the clerk.

"I'm sorry, but Elton John might be a homo, but he's not as gay as Cher."

"Ah, last time anyone checked, Randall, Cher was a woman and very straight."

"So what? Sir John has crossover appeal- he's like the gay-to-straight emissary. The one homo that the whole family can listen to without the dad feeling insecure. Cher, on the other hand, can't even sing a song that has the slightest heterosexual tinge to it- 'I wanna believe in love after love?' If that's not a gay theme song, then I don't know what is."

"That's just stupid… can I give you some change? I just ran out of fives- and ones."

"So," House replied, "you're going to give me back $7 in quarters?"

"I'm sorry, it's all I got right now." The clerk plopped a fist full of change into his hand.

"Sure, I'll just leave a trail of quarters behind me so I won't get lost." House replied, only to realize that they weren't paying attention to him.

"I'm telling you, Sir John might like the testes, but he's still straighter than Cher. Look at it this way, the last time any straight man voluntarily listened to Cher was Sonny Bono back in 1978 and he was stoned at the time." House heard as he left the Jersey store.

Not seeing Wilson, he headed out back behind the store, and found two men idling as Wilson stood with his back to him. The shorter, squattier slumped next to a boombox as the other reenacted the dancing scene from The Breakfast Club.

"Ah, Little Jaime. We knew you'd come back to the block. We gots da good ganja shit- medical grade at that." The blonde danced, "You smoke this shit, and you'll be snorting up Taco Bell's cheese goo in no time." He swooped next to his partner, only to get an elbow to the rib. "Dude, it's the fuzz! I can't believe you of all people would 21 Jump Street our asses, and with a cripcop no less!"

"What?" Wilson yelped, his head jerking around. "No, no. This is my friend, House. He's cool. He's not a cop. These two are Jay and Silent Bob."

"Dude, he's a total narc." The blonde replied as the other guy held out his hands to be arrested. "I mean, he looks like a Crockett reject with his Norelco razor set to 2. This guy's got cop stink all over him."

"I'm guessing that you two are examples of Jersey's finest drug representatives?" House replied, sizing them up. "Out peddling the street Vanceril?"

"Naw man." Jay countered. "We used to sell all the shit. Then we got busted and converted to Catholicism. Turns out, all the money is in medical marijuana. We gots like four doctors right now paying top dollar for our shit because we got a link to a research lab in Baltimore. They grow the high quality chibi that has the highest amount of munchie power, and we sell it to our more discerning clientele." Silent Bob rubbed his fingers together. "Jaime here is one of our oldest customers- even though we haven't seen him in 15 years, so we gives him a discount. "

"They're the only drug dealers I know," Wilson added.

"You a doctor too? I wanted to be a doctor. You guys get all the hot nurse pussy. Like that Afro Goddess RN Nurse Julia. She can give me a high colonic any day. She was hot. Nothing like a little Jungle Fever." Silent Bob grimaced.

"Look, Jay." Wilson interrupted. "I need to go. Last thing I need right now is to be picked up for possession. Could you deliver it for me? There's an extra $50 for you- each. She's only like 20 minutes away."

"I dunno, Man."

"$75. I'm heading there myself. The girl's down to 95 pounds, and really needs to eat."

Silent Bob started to nod, but Jay stopped him. "I dunno, Man. This isn't like Nicole Richie, is it?"

"Why would Nicole Richie be in Leonardo, New Jersey?" Wilson asked, confused.

"Why does Nicole Richie even exist?" House replied. "It's obviously not for her brains or keen fashion sense."

"So, are you going to help us or not?" Wilson begged.

Jay and Silent Bob looked at each other. "I guess that we're on a mission for God." Silent Bob finally replied.