House, M.D. s01e18 Episode Script

Did I say anything stupid? I had two drinks.
Three.
Okay.
Yeah.
There was that last one also.
Mm-hmm.
It's okay.
Someday you'll be pregnant, and you can return the favor.
I feel like such a idiot sometimes.
Oh.
You know, when the baby comes, I am gonna be-- You know what? You're gonna be so great.
You are.
Mmm.
Hey! You all right? Uh-- Uh-huh.
Oh, no.
You know why I pulled you over? I'm-- I'm so sorry, Officer.
I must have, uh, dozed off.
Have you been drinking? No.
Ofcourse she hasn't.
- Somebody has.
- I've been drinking.
You all right? Uh, I'm-- I'm-- I'm not, uh-- How far along are you? Uh, almost-- Ma'am, step out of the vehicle.
Ma'am, walk to the rear of the car.
Naomi.
Are-- Naomi? - Naomi.
- Sir, remain in the car.
Hey, listen.
She's not drunk.
I will arrest you, sir.
- She's sick! Look at her.
- Can you roll me another unit? Get back in the car.
Naomi! Get off.
Call an ambulance.
The good news is it doesn't look like a stroke.
No bleeds, no clots.
Thank God.
It sounds like there's bad news.
We got your blood work back.
Some things are a little off.
Your liver and kidneys aren't working so well.
Why? What would cause that? It's preeclampsia, isn't it? - I'm gonna miscarry, aren't I? - Preeclampsia is a possibility.
But let's not get ahead of ourselves.
I've miscarried three times.
I'm 39.
We had to use in vitro.
You've gotta make sure the baby's okay.
Let's make sure that you're okay first.
How about we take care of both of you at the same time? The nurse will be in soon to take some blood.
I'd like to run some more tests.
- Thank you, Doctor.
- Thank you.
Where is everybody? No one's in the office? No.
I haven't heard from Cameron all day.
You seen House? Look for a shallow grave with Vogler standing over it.
You have a stage IV cancer.
It's metastasized to your liver.
There's a new drug called in Phase II trials.
It's your best shot.
Thank you, Doctor.
You've been so good to me and-- Well, I-- I did publicly bash your company's drug.
When I think about how I treated you-- Oh, hey.
Come on.
There, there, there.
So, um, there is some hope.
Always.
But just in case, I special-ordered an extra-jumbo-sized coffin.
Hey.
Don't thank me.
It's just who I am.
Hey! Up and at 'em, big guy.
Sorry.
Up late.
Internet porn.
How come you're not in your office? Because there is a computer in my office, and if I log on, romance will ensue.
- My wrist might fall off.
- Hiding 'cause Vogler's looking for you, huh? That's just pathetic.
I don't like loud, angry giants threatening me with violence.
How is that pathetic? You think you can avoid firing one of us by hiding out here? He'll find you sooner or later.
I'm okay with later.
- G, four.
P, zero.
- Three miscarriages? Gimme.
Altered mental status and complete loss of coordination.
Tox screen? Negative for alcohol and drugs.
She was on oxybutynin.
For incontinence.
Yeah.
Well, we took her off.
No change.
B.
U.
N.
and creatinine are up.
L.
F.
T.
's slightly elevated.
Preeclampsia.
Call the OB-GYN service and rub some prayer beads.
- B.
P.
's normal.
No preeclampsia in other pregnancies.
- Because she didn't carry for long enough.
The three miscarriages make me think it's an underlying physiology.
Pregnancy-related autoimmunity.
Too bad that Cameron quit.
We could use an immunologist right now.
- We'll see if you're right.
Check the blood.
- Cameron quit? Last night.
And do an M.
R.
A.
for vasculitis too.
There's no way she quit.
She got fired because you couldn't swallow your pride.
An ultrasound? Excellent thought.
And put her on magnesium too, in case it is preeclampsia.
Sure.
Here, pussy, pussy, pussy.
I didn't do anything.
Exactly my point.
You wanted me to yell at him? What would that have achieved? Was he gonna jump into his time machine and fix everything? When a dog dumps on the floor, do you pat its head? No.
You smack it in the nose with a newspaper.
Dogs can learn things.
House can't.
Coward.
Child.
Hey, there.
I, uh, brought my colleague along to help out.
Hi.
I'm Dr.
Chase.
Hi.
Well, ultrasound looks good.
No sign of fetal distress.
So it's not preeclampsia? Well, it still could be, but it hasn't progressed at least.
We're gonna put you on bed rest and monitor the baby.
Okay.
We'll give you some potassium and magnesium as well.
We should keep the fluids running and check her again in an hour unless there are signs of fetal distress.
Honey? She's choking! Lean forward.
- Is she all right? - Probably just some muscle weakness.
- What do you mean "probably"? - Naomi, open up.
People choke.
It could be nothing.
You all right? I can't-- I can't-- I can't even swallow.
She gets sick a lot.
Like this-- this cold got really bad all of a sudden.
And the fever-- Shh.
It's okay.
It's not a cold.
It's pneumonia.
- Pneumonia? - Relax.
Pneumonia's her second biggest problem.
She has gone from the 25th weight percentile to the third in one month.
I'm not a baby expert, but I'm pretty sure they're not supposed to shrink.
Well, there's this diet we put her on when she stopped breast-feeding.
But it's healthy.
Um, raw food.
We're vegans.
Almond milk, tofu, uh, vegetables.
Raw food.
If only her ancestors had mastered the secret of fire.
Babies need fat, proteins, calories.
Less important, sprouts and hemp.
Starving babies is bad-- and illegal in many cultures.
- I'm having her admitted.
- Is she gonna be all right? Antibiotics for the pneumonia, I.
V.
feeding to get the weight up.
Don't worry.
It's a vegan I.
V.
Don't see any signs of vasculitis.
Odd.
Since you're always right about everything.
Could be a different autoimmunity.
Or you could bite me.
Oh, no.
- Naomi, you okay? - No.
I can't-- I'm getting cramps.
Strong? Oh.
Yeah.
Feels like my miscarriage.
Stop.
Preterm labor.
He's too little.
He won't survive.
She's on magnesium already.
Fluids and terbutaline then.
- We're gonna give you some medicine, okay? Try to stop your labor.
- Okay.
Okay.
Oh! Ah.
There you are.
Been looking everywhere for you.
Uh, listen, you said that I had to cut one of my people if I didn't give that speech about your drug.
And, uh, in fairness to your point of view, my speech really wasn't the one you had in mind, so I've cut Cameron.
Now we're all squared away, right? In the morning, I expect you in my office with your letter of resignation and plans for a public apology, otherwise I'll destroy you.
So, that's a no on us being squared away? She might make it to full term.
Contractions are less frequent and not well organized.
Great to see you back in the office.
I guess Vogler found you? Yeah.
We had a nice little chat.
I really should have kept Cameron.
- She knew where to find the sugar.
- It's what I said: preeclampsia.
- A little stress from the M.
R.
A.
, she pops right into labor.
- Aha.
- What about the myasthenia? - Come on.
She didn't seem that weak.
She choked.
She couldn't even swallow.
- What did she choke on? - Her food.
But muscle weakness isn't a symptom of preeclampsia.
- What kind of food? - A little bit of cooked pear.
Doesn't matter.
Shows weakness.
She choked on soft, wet pear? Did she forget to take the bones out? That's way past muscle weakness.
- Did you do an upper endoscopy? - You think there's something obstructing her esophagus? - We gotta talk.
- Ooh.
We gotta talk.
And check her eyelids.
Check her eyelids? Special board meeting today.
Only one item on the agenda: you.
Enjoy the bagels.
I'm untouchable.
Right.
Any vote to revoke my tenure has to be unanimous.
I've got you and maybe even Cuddy.
Well, that settles it.
Mr.
Ruthless Corporate Raider will be totally stymied, go home, curl up on the floor of his shower and weep.
What can he do? I got a contract.
Does it say how much your team is paid, where you parking space is, if your car should be filled with horse manure? Vogler's smart.
He's got some plan to get you.
Does it involve candy? 'Cause I'm a sucker for chocolates.
- She's doing better.
- Oh, thank God.
Technically, Alexander Fleming.
He developed antibiotics.
Pneumonia's under control.
From now on, what say you go with human food, okay? - Absolutely.
Swear to God.
- This time, that's your guy.
Rachel and Joel Kaplan? Yes? You're under arrest.
You have the right to remain silent.
What did we do? You're being charged with child endangerment.
- What? How? -Starving your kid.
I'm from Social Services.
We're taking responsibility for your baby.
This is how Vogler's gonna destroy me? - What did he do? Grease your cane? - He had my patients arrested.
Uh, no.
He didn't.
I did.
The nurses were concerned, and they called me.
There was evidence of abuse.
You took a big legal risk by not calling Social Services.
Those parents are not abusive.
They're idiots.
Oh, well, that's certainly a relief.
It was my call.
You made the wrong one.
You know, there's a new biography of Quisling.
I think you might like it.
Sure.
No idea who that is.
Uh, Norwegian guy, World War II, traitor.
- The fact that I have to explain this takes the edge off my flow.
- I was protecting you.
From what? Cops aren't gonna bust me.
Disciplinary Committee maybe gives me a slap on the wrist.
And Vogler has an excuse to get rid of you.
If I don't give him one, he makes one up.
Vogler's just one vote.
He's gotta convince the other 11 of us.
I'm just trying to stop you from making that extra easy.
Dr.
Charles, dial 4541.
Sean, do your wife's eyelids look any different than usual? Uh, maybe one is drooping a little bit, but, you know, she's tired, so-- Naomi, can you open your mouth for me and, um, tilt your head back? This is gonna be a little uncomfortable.
Yeah.
There's swelling, indenting the esophagus.
Is that why she choked? - We'll need to do an X-ray.
- What? No.
The baby.
You said no X-rays.
It's important.
She has a three-centimeter mass in her right upper lobe.
Maybe it's a granuloma.
No.
There's no calcification.
It's small-cell lung cancer.
The tumor's starting to press against your esophagus.
It hasn't metastasized, but it has spread to other parts of your lung, so we can't operate.
Wait.
That doesn't make sense.
She had, uh, kidney failure and brain problems.
Some cancer patients get what are called paraneoplastic syndromes.
You were making antibodies to fight the tumor.
They got sidetracked and attacked other cells.
Your brain first.
Then your liver, kidneys.
Even the nerves that control your eyelids.
That's called Lambert-Eaton syndrome.
It told us the tumor was in the lungs.
How bad is it? Small-cell is the most aggressive kind of lung cancer.
The five-year survival rate is only about 10% to 15%.
Which is why we have to start you on chemo and radiation right away.
- Radiation? What about the baby? - You'll need a C-section before you can start the treatment.
I can get you in first thing tomorrow morning.
What are the chances my baby will survive? Pretty good.
Twenty-eight weeks, so about 80%.
No, wait.
That's one-in-five chance he'll die? I really wouldn't advise waiting.
- Naomi, you gotta start this treatment right away.
- What happens if I wait? Well, 29 weeks, the survival rate is closer to 90%.
I'm not doing the radiation.
But you'll die if-- Listen.
You know the chances.
They're nothing.
But a few more weeks will save the baby.
Listen.
You're depressed right now, and you're not thinking right, so-- Could you j-- Tell her, please.
This cancer moves quick.
The median survival's two to four months.
If you postpone-- even for a week-- I'm sorry, honey.
As most of you know, Gregory House recently gave a speech about me.
I'd like to return the favor.
- Sorry.
- Dr.
Wilson.
I was hoping you were gonna miss this one.
A man is the sum of his actions.
Here are a few of Dr.
House's.
He violated a D.
N.
R.
and was charged with assault.
He brought a termite into the O.
R.
and spat on a surgeon.
He accepted a Corvette from a patient who was a known member of the New Jersey Mafia.
- Ed, look-- - Edward.
Edward.
You look at anyone's career, you can find things that are-- These are the last three months.
He's personally had more complaints filed against him than any department in this hospital.
Okay.
He's screwed-up.
He's miserable.
And he should probably reread the ethics code, but it works for him.
He's saved hundreds of lives.
He is a drug addict who flaunts his addiction and refuses to get treatment.
He is a disgrace and an embarrassment to this hospital.
I'd go on, but it gets kind of mean, so-- I'm gonna keep this simple.
House goes or I go.
- You shouldn't personalize this.
- And by "I", I mean my hundred million dollars.
How's that for personalizing? You gave us that money for a reason.
Are you really willing to throw it all away because of one doctor? Gregory House is a symbol of everything wrong with the health care industry.
Waste.
Insubordination.
Doctors preening like they're kings, and the hospital is their own private fiefdom.
Health care is a business.
I'm gonna run it like one.
I hereby move to revoke the tenure of Dr.
Gregory House and terminate his employment at this hospital, effective immediately.
- Don't you think we should discuss this? - We just did.
- We need time-- - The vote is on the table.
All in favor? Dr.
Wilson.
Opposed.
The motion is defeated.
Dr.
Wilson, would you mind leaving the room, please? - Excuse me? - We're going to take another vote.
Well, first of all, you can't void my vote by making me stand in the hallway.
And second, you should check the bylaws.
You need notice and at least one business day before you can reconsider any matter.
We're voting on a different matter, which you are conflicted out of.
How can I be conflicted? This vote is whether to dismiss Dr.
James Wilson.
Naomi is refusing to have the C-section.
Her odds aren't good enough.
They do suck.
Where's Wilson? Paged him twice.
She does this, she knows she's gonna die.
She's saving her child.
Cameron would point out that people are capable of sacrifice.
Cameron isn't here.
- Perhaps proving her point.
- You think this woman is making a rational decision? I think people can overcome their baser drives.
Pretty damn rarely.
And not this time.
This is purely biological.
In evolutionary terms, the needs of the next generation are more important.
- You're saying she's making the right call? - Darwin is.
I'm not.
The next generation is not my patient.
We have to raise the odds for Mommy.
Where the hell is Wilson? He's the oncologist.
Good plan.
Cure cancer.
I'm surprised no one ever thought of that before.
There he is.
Dr.
House.
You guys bust out? We made bail.
They won't let us in our baby's room.
Weird.
You think they'd let you take her home while they figured out if you tried to kill her.
We're good parents.
We fed her whenever she was hungry.
Big meals.
We had no idea that diet was so bad.
The nutritionist said it had everything she needed.
Listen.
The kid who stacks the free-range grapefruit in your health food store is not a nutritionist.
But my uncle is.
He went to college and everything.
- Foreman, I need a C.
T.
scan on-- - Olive Kaplan.
Seriously? Olive Kaplan.
Look for abscesses or occult infections.
Yeah.
Bye-bye.
Listen.
Vogler's all about clinical trials.
The hospital's chock full of them.
There's gotta be something for small-cell lung cancer.
What are you doing? I got sacked.
Did you make a pass at Cuddy? I told you.
She only has thighs for me.
I voted to keep you.
So he's getting rid of every board member who votes to keep me around.
Yeah.
Every one of us.
Just you? Yep.
But you're only off the board, right? They couldn't have gotten unanimous approval for you.
Brown from oncology voted no.
So did Cuddy, Taylor and Peavey.
Oh, so you're off the board.
Big deal.
Frees up Wednesday nights for bowling.
You're still a doctor.
Getting dumped looks great in Who's Who.
Vogler gave me the option of resigning.
And I took it.
Big of him.
I got no kids.
My marriages sucks.
I only had two things that worked for me.
This job and this stupid screwed-up friendship, and neither mattered enough to you to give one lousy speech.
They matter.
If I could do it all again-- You'd do the same thing.
Well, you'll be gone soon too.
Those clinical trials? I'll make some calls.
Thanks.
It's-- It's not cancer.
It's not gonna kill me? - It's hemorrhoids.
- But all that blood-- I mean, that can't be right.
Looks worse than it is.
- Nice job of protecting me.
- Can this wait? His ass can wait.
You save my job by sacking Wilson? What did you think would happen when you made that speech? That you would just pout for a little while and we'd all forgive you? You don't spit on the man that signs your paycheck.
First Cameron, then Wilson.
You're next.
Pull your pants up.
So it's about the money.
Ofcourse it's about the money.
The money Vogler gave, he could have bought a few jets, maybe a baseball team.
Orjust stuck it in Chase Manhattan and collected interest.
But he gave it to us to buy equipment, to do research.
You are a great doctor, House, but you are not worth a hundred million dollars.
We've sequenced the D.
N.
A.
of the tumor cells.
P53 gene mutation at codon 55.
She's perfect for your trial.
Hmm.
She's pretty far advanced.
Well, you want easy cases, you picked the wrong specialty.
Otherwise in good health? Excellent.
When can she start? Middle of next week.
Cancer's already stage III.
It'd be a waste of time.
She can start in two days.
She can't start in two days.
She's pregnant.
She won't be in two days.
- I've scheduled a C-section.
- She'd still have to wait a month.
You can't take part in any trial for at least 30 days after major surgery.
Well, it's definitely surgery, but major? It's not your call.
Again, question of interpretation.
You're scamming a doctor? Now? Come on.
Vogler's looking for any excuse to can you.
Oh, I think he's got a big bag of those already.
These regulations aren't just here to annoy you.
Doing this is dangerous to the patient.
Well, I'll be sure and let her know that.
Care to join me? Angiogenesis inhibitors prevent the tumors from creating blood vessels.
Without blood, the tumor starves.
That sounds great.
What about the baby? The treatment would be fatal to the baby.
I've scheduled a C-section for this afternoon.
No.
It's in the trial phase right now, but so far complete remission in more than 30% of subjects.
- I told Dr.
Foreman I didn't want a C-section.
- When your chances of living were less than a third of what they are now.
Well, if the baby's premature, then-- Our Pediatrics department has the best neonatal I.
C.
U.
in the state.
No.
His lungs.
His brain.
He's not ready.
And he could be fine.
You don't know what it's like raising a sick child.
His odds are much better than yours are.
You have to let them at least try this.
- Talk to her.
- Okay.
Leave the room.
Okay.
How long have you been taking oxybutynin? Uh, since I was about 20.
Incontinence is pretty uncommon in a woman of your age.
It's even more bizarre in a woman in her 20s.
I guess I haven't had the best luck when it comes to my health.
Seems that way.
You said to your husband, "You don't know what it's like raising a sick child".
You didn't say, "You don't know what it would be like".
This is not your first child, is it? And he doesn't know.
I was 18.
I got pregnant, got married.
I had the most beautiful little girl.
Grace.
She had infantile Alexander's disease.
I'm sorry.
Two years we watched her die.
My husband was a-- Uh, my first husband was a-- a great guy, but after that I couldn't even look at him without thinking of her.
I left him.
I left my job.
I left everything.
Very moving story.
Explains why you're being so selfish.
I'm willing to die to protect my husband.
Because it's what you want.
Your husband wants you to live.
Well, he doesn't understand-- Oh, who the hell does? Tragedies happen.
If you think that turning yourself into a disposable incubator for a few weeks is gonna protect your baby from all the crap in this world, go ahead.
Die happy.
I got no problem with people killing themselves.
But don't think it makes you a hero.
Okay.
You're scheduled for 4:00 p.
m.
Yes.
This is Dr.
Lim.
Count down from 10.
Okay.
Ten, nine, eight-- Tray setup.
That seemed kind of fast.
Is she all right? She's fine.
Wake her up.
That was Vogler.
Surgery is off.
Hey! You're killing her! Really? I thought you were the one trying to ram her into a drug trial five minutes after surgery.
She knows the risk.
She was fully informed.
Well, the guy running the study sure wasn't.
Not his life.
Not his call.
- His study, his call.
- Right.
So she kicks off, his numbers look bad.
The numbers look bad, the study looks bad.
Which would cost you money! And keep a lifesaving protocol off the market.
One person! One blip in the data! Ever heard of the F.
D.
A.
? They eat blips for breakfast.
One person should never endanger thousands.
Well, thank God you were here to save all those lives! The board's meeting again this evening.
Why don't you settle down, play some Game Boy? Why don't you watch your soap? I hear they're firing the handsome doctor today.
Boy, that should be a good one.
If we had the C-section anyway, she could still do the experimental treatment, right? - We'd just have to wait 30 days.
- Assuming the doctor running the trial isn't too pissed off to let her in.
And assuming I'm even healthy enough to-- Honey.
- Are you okay? - Sats are dropping-- down to the 80s.
Stay with us, Naomi.
What's going on? We need you to leave the room.
Respiratory distress.
- Could you tell me what's going on? - We're trying to find out.
Here.
Still kicking.
Flash pulmonary edema? Lungs are clear.
Here it is.
- Pulmonary embolus.
- Gotta get her to an O.
R.
Now.
Right away.
Uh, what happened? It's an embolism-- a blood clot.
Fairly common with lung cancer.
It's not a full saddle embolism.
So blood's still trickling through.
We've been able to get Naomi breathing a little, but we need to remove the clot, and we need you to approve the treatment.
Ofcourse.
Whatever you have to do, just do it.
It's not that simple.
The best course for the baby would be an immediate C-section.
The longer we postpone, the greater chance he'll have brain damage from lack of oxygen.
Fine.
Just do it.
Here's the problem.
The C-section would be very, very dangerous for Naomi.
Dangerous like-- In her current condition, there's a real chance she won't survive.
I'm sorry.
Your wife's unconscious.
We need you to make a decision.
I just want her to live.
No C-section.
Sats are still way down.
We gotta push the streptokinase.
Too risky.
Even if it dissolves the clot, she could still bleed out-- - She's hemodynamically compromised.
- It's not good for the baby.
Dad doesn't care.
Bolusing 250,000 units.
B.
P.
's dropping.
Pressors.
Don't have time.
We've gotta suck it out.
Systolic B.
P.
's 80.
B.
P.
's stabilizing.
O2 sats rising.
- Did you get the clot? - I think so.
She's stabilized.
How long was her oxygen at that level? - About 10 minutes.
- Brain function compromised? Shouldn't be, but we'll-- B.
P.
's dropping.
Up the dopamine.
- She's not responding.
How much? - Up to 30 micrograms.
Is she septic? She's bleeding into her abdomen.
We won't be able to stop it.
I'll go talk to the husband.
No.
You stay here.
Keep her as stable as you can for as long as you can.
She had trauma during the procedure.
She's bleeding into her abdomen.
There's nothing we can do.
I'm sorry.
Oh.
No.
I need you to okay the C-section.
That's gonna kill her, right? Probably will.
I can't do that.
She's dying either way.
- I'm-- I'm sorry.
- Stay with me, Sean.
I need your okay on this.
She makes the decisions, and I'm-- Right.
And that's gonna be tough from now on, but this decision is easy.
You know what she'd want.
Yeah.
I can't do-- You make this call, only two things change.
One, yeah, you feel guilty for killing your wife.
Two, your baby lives.
Naomi's baby lives.
Okay.
Okay.
He's out.
Umbilical cord's clamped.
No respiration.
- His lungs aren't opening up.
They aren't mature.
Come on.
Take a breath.
You know you can do it.
What you got? Looks like V-fib.
Pulse? - No.
Paddles.
Right here.
Come on.
Come on.
Clear! - Nothing.
- Charging.
- Good boy.
Open up.
- How's he doin'? Still not breathing.
We've gotta intubate.
Clear! Thank you.
I'm late for the board meeting.
We need to talk.
I don't want to hear it.
It's about a patient.
The pregnant woman? She wasn't qualified for that trial.
And I'm not gonna apologize-- I'm not talking about her.
At this point, I think it's best if I concentrate on patients who are still alive.
Pulmonary embolism.
She bled out.
Saved her son.
This is Olive Kaplan's C.
T.
scan-- the incredible shrinking baby.
Her thymus gland.
DiGeorge syndrome.
It's genetic.
Caused the gland to wither to nothing.
This is why she couldn't gain weight.
Yeah.
I'll call the police and Social Services and have all the charges withdrawn.
I've sent a test down to confirm.
When it comes back, you should start Olive on immunoglobulin replacement.
You're not gonna do it? Well, I assume I won't be here.
Your boy is doing good.
It's the same motion as yesterday, people.
Same reasons.
All those in favor of dismissing Gregory House, raise a hand.
Dr.
Cuddy, you realize this is going to happen.
- I can't do it.
- You can't abstain.
I'm not abstaining.
I'm voting no.
You've changed your mind since yesterday? What did he do? Buy you dinner and roses? Threaten to drown your dog? - He did his job.
- Right.
He saved another life.
Maybe.
Good for him.
- It's great.
It's not the point.
- It's what we do.
And you could do it a lot better if you didn't have to worry about some madman running around the hospital accountable to no one.
- But that's not the choice you're giving us.
- House won't listen to anyone.
And you're not accountable to anybody either.
Because you think you own us.
I move for the immediate dismissal of Dr.
Lisa Cuddy.
She's upset.
We all are.
Why would you risk your career to save him? If you think House deserves to go-- If you think I deserve to go, Wilson deserved to go, then vote yes.
But if you're doing this because you are afraid of losing his money, then he's right.
He does own you.
You have a choice.
Maybe the last real one you'll have here.
Cuddy is a genius.
Convincing four people to give up a fortune to save our sorry asses.
Dr.
Cuddy, the man of the hour.
- Hey, hey! Hey.
What are you doing? We're drinking.
I would have thought that was pretty obvious.
To the great champion.
Saved you, saved Wilson-- saved the whole team.
Ofcourse none of them would have needed saving if you could actually get along with another human being.
Thank you, Miss Buzz Kill.
Well, you only cost us a hundred million dollars.
Could have saved some lives, could have made a few jobs, helped a few people-- yippee.
You voted to get rid of him.
The lesser of two evils.
You should be mourning.
I know I am.