Wilson's Will, House's Won't

Wilson's office.

Want to buy me lunch?

I'm glad you came by, House. There is something I wanted to ask you.

Sure, as long as the question is, "Can I buy you lunch?"

Actually, I can't go to lunch. I promised my lawyer I'd have this over to her by 2:00 this afternoon.

One of the lovely ex-Mrs. Wilsons decide they want to divorce you all over again?

I am putting together my will. And that's what I wanted to speak to you about.

I don't want anything of yours.

I wasn't leaving anything to you.

Oh.

I want you to be the executor of my will.

No.

Oh come on, House, it's not that big of a deal and my lawyer says it should be someone who is not actually in the will.

No.

Why not?

You're not going to die.

I have cancer.

So I've heard. And Dr. Google Search assures me that the survival rate for stage one non Hodgkin's lymphoma is 91%.

You could have asked me. I'm an oncologist you know.

But Dr. Google never wants to have a big discussion afterward.

Fine, the prognosis is excellent, but it still makes sense to be prepared for the worst.

You are not going to die.

House, if you spun a roulette wheel with 10 numbers on it and if your number came up you died, wouldn't you make a will before spinning?

I need to get you to Atlantic City more. Roulette wheels don't have 10 numbers on them.

House!

If you think that is how cancer works it explains a lot about why there are so many bald headed dying people on your ward.

My department has a very high remission rate.

For your sake I certainly hope so.

It just makes sense to have a will.

If you say so.

I do. So be my executor?

No.

Oh come on. Just do this one favor for me so that….

Lalalalalala

House.

Lalalalalala

House! You can take your fingers out of your ears!

What?!

....

Sorry, I couldn't hear you. My fingers were in my ears.

Very mature.

Says the man with six teddy bears in his office.

Patients gave me those!

Those patients are all either dead or at home, and yet the teddy bears are still here.

House, why won't you be my executor?

I already told you. You are not going to die. At least not from this.

That's not an answer. That's a deflection.

You say deflection, I say distraction. Buy me lunch?

Just give me one good reason why you won't be my executor. One good reason why not and I won't bother you about it again.

Define 'good'.

How about a reason that is logical.

Even if you don't like the reason?

Yes, even if I don't like it. As long as it makes sense.

Well?

I…won't be around.

?

To be your executor I mean.

You're preplanning a vacation in the event of my death?

Not exactly a vacation. But I won't be around so I can't do it for you. Find someone else.

House, what the hell do you mean you won't be….

No.

Yes.

No, no, no! You wouldn't!

Apparently we haven't met. I'm Greg House.

House, this is not a joke.

I'm not kidding.

So if I die you are just going to off yourself?!

Yep.

But…but…why?

What about Cuddy?

What about her?

She'd be heartbroken.

Oh come off it Wilson.

If she found you…

I don't intend to hang myself in her office you know. I'll make it look like an accident. I'll do it Thelma and Louise style.

Cuddy will never believe it was an accident.

It doesn't matter whether she believes it or not. Everyone else will. And she has a real baby now, she doesn't need me.

Your mother?

She didn't even want the real baby when she had it.

House!

Oh all right. She'd be fine. We speak once every other month at most anyway. She probably wouldn't even notice unless someone told her.

Sigh. How about Steve?

….oh….that's a good point. I'll talk to Walker down in research. Get him to promise to take him.

He runs a research lab using rodents as test subjects, House. It's not a kennel.

That's okay. If I link boarding Steve to a gift to the lab from the sale of my worldly possessions, I'm sure he'll take good care of him. My vintage first edition record collection must be worth over 100 grand alone.

What?!

Why do you think I need you to buy me lunch?

I thought your money went to...I dunno…hookers?

One hundred grand on hookers? You don't get out much do you, Wilson?

All right, fine. I guess there's no other choice then.

Yep, find someone else to be the executor of your will.

That's not what I meant by 'no other choice'.

Then what?

I guess I can't die.

I guess you can't.

Buy you lunch?

I thought you'd never ask.