All language subtitles for House M.D. - 8x20 - Post Mortem.HDTV.LOL.en

Clear!

Charging!
Clear!

Okay, I'm calling it.

Time of death...

8:32.

[Gareth Dunlop's
Here Comes the Night]

♪ Here comes the night ♪

♪ when all
the ghosts come out ♪

♪ I'm haunted
by everything ♪

♪ it reminds me of myself ♪

♪ I feel it's all
somehow... ♪

♪ those lights above
racing by ♪

♪ it's a trick
of the moonlight ♪

♪ it's a trick
of the moonlight ♪

♪ ♪

♪ here lies the ground ♪

♪ that swallowed
all it's found ♪

♪ I can hear them
singing out strong ♪

Hello, Diana.

Shall we?

LV tear is within a zone
of fresh tissue necrosis,

implicating a recent
myocardial infarction

as the instigating event.

Unfortunately,
the medical records show

that Dr. Penza
never suspected heart disease,

instead giving steroids
for an erroneous diagnosis

of asthma,
thereby causing the fatal tear.

I suggest these findings
warrant further investigation

into Dr. Penza's standard
of care for this patient,

making this my...

third such recommendation
regarding Dr. Penza this year.

Concluding autopsy
with examination of the brain.

Dr. Treiber...

I'm cold.

♪ House 8x20 ♪
Post Mortem

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
[Massive Attack's Teardrop]

♪

Yes, it's mine.

And yes, I know that
I can't drive stick.

And no, I don't care that
I parked in a handicapped spot.

"Staring death
in the face

has changed my life."

What a cliche.

The cliche is to lead
a more meaningful life.

I've taken a holy vow

to lead a less
meaningful one.

I've spent my life caring,

giving, and searching
for the profound.

Now it's time for
selfishness, indifference,

and embracing the shallow.

Your scan's in three days.

Tell me this isn't
just you killing time

until you find out if your
cancer's gonna kill it for you.

I just paid $75,000 for
a ridiculously impractical car,

the depth of shallowness.

And tomorrow,
I'm driving it to Cleveland

to meet my boyhood crush.

The years have not been
kind to David Cassidy.

Julie Christie.
Dr. Zhivago, Shampoo.

I was precocious.

She's opening
some kind of

charity animal clinic
or something.

I'm neglecting
my patients

to fulfill
a silly fantasy.

Textbook selfishness
and indifference.

Or you've made sure that
your patients are well-covered,

car is a rental,

and while waiting to get
Julie Christie's autograph,

you'll adopt a puppy.

I don't even care
whether you believe me or not.

Indifference.

He tried to cut open
his own skull.

Head CT and tox screen
were clean.

Interesting.

Cotard delusion.

Also known as
"walking corpse syndrome."

Disconnect in the amygdala
convinces you

that you're secretly dead.

Case solved.

Rendering it...

What's the past-tense
of "interesting?"

No prior history
of mental illness,

and before you say
it was caused by antivirals,

I've already ruled that out.
Plus, Cotard's

doesn't explain
the paresthesia in his hand.

Also...

Treiber won't let
any other doctor near him.

He trusts your work.

Treiber's the patient?

What's the future tense
of "interesting"?

How's Wilson doing?

Wilson's scan is
at the end of the week.

If his kick-ass chemo shrunk
the tumor to an operable size,

he'll live.

If it didn't, he'll die.

That must be very hard.

Is there anything
we can do?

Other than the prayer circle,
what is there?

Patient's AST is high.

Psychosis could be
brought on by liver failure.

Maybe Hep C?

Bilirubin and serum protein
levels were normal.

Doesn't explain the tingly hand
or why Chase hates him.

I don't hate him.
He hates me.

He hates all doctors,
and it's mutual.

He only hates the ones
that screw up.

And you.

And they only hate Treiber
because he finds their mistakes.

Mistakes are a wee bit easier
to find on a dead patient,

a distinction he fails
to recognize.

He's a rat.

Who makes the hospital
a safer place

by keeping doctors
accountable

and focused.

What if he got something
from a cadaver?

He handles a lot of 'em.
You suggesting we DDX them all?

No, just his last one.

She had bad knees.

She used dimethyl sulfoxide
for joint pain.

Current from the defibrillator
could've converted it

to dimethyl sulfate.
When Treiber cut into her,

her blood released toxic fumes.

Everyone in the basement
would be sick.

Gas would've
dissipated quickly.

His lungs are fine.
Blood clots make more sense.

One in his hand
explains the paresthesia,

one in his carotid explains
the psychotic episode.

You two look
for toxic exposure.

Adams, you can help
Chase ultrasound

his evil nemesis
for evil clots.

I know House doesn't like
seeing his patients,

but doesn't a fellow doctor
rate an exception?

Psychosis appears
to be intermittent.

Just snapped out of it
long enough to ask

if House actually
ordered this test.

Don't worry.

We're simply carrying out
his direct orders.

Right. Forgot.

It's what you were
hired to do.

Which is fine,
his diagnostic error metric

is .17 compared to
the hospital average of .32.

You actually think
you can quantify

the value
of every doctor?

Someone should.

And since I'm the only one
who sees everything--

Right, you were hired
to diagnose people

after they're
already dead.

No sign of stenosis
or clots.

Every doctor, every diagnosis,
every treatment, every result.

It's pretty impressive.

It's pretty Orwellian.

All written
in his secret code.

He has to keep it
confidential.

Just like
the Wannsee conference.

The "Big Brother" metaphor
wasn't pointed enough for you?

You had to
throw in Hitler?

A couple years ago,

he noticed a link
in child deaths,

and it's completely changed
hospital policies all over--

I get it.
Treiber is nerd king.

The more people we kill,
the more lives he saves.

Test is negative
for dimethyl sulfate,

her blood is not toxic.

Then we should look for toxic
exposure from something else.

You really think the hospital
is idiotic enough

to issue toxic supplies?

Have you seen his tools?

Treiber doesn't always
use hospital-issue.

Then he's the idiot?

No, but I don't want

to explain that
assumption to House.

Found something.

Thought we'd make it
a road trip.

'80s music,
junk food, beer.

I have a dental
appointment.

That I'm going to
make now.

Ah. I'll let you drive.

Not worth listening
to you whine

about your feelings and fears
for three days.

It's not gonna happen.
I've taken a vow.

People don't change.
You are a person, ergo, pass.

Yes, that's why
I brought this.

20 CCs of propofol.

You can accompany me
willingly,

or I will,
when you least expect it,

inject the contents of this vial
into your bloodstream.

The fall might result
in a concussion,

or fractures,

or you might get lucky

and simply wake up
somewhere near Allentown

with a nasty headache.

The choice is yours,
and in case you've forgotten,

I am indifferent.

We leave tomorrow morning
at 8:00 a.m.

No clots.

No gas.

But we found
enough of this

to reanimate
the entire morgue.

He's jacked on caffeine.

Stimulant psychosis.

How many times do I
have to solve this case?

So all we have to do is hydrate
and observe him for 24 hours.

Why don't you tell him
it was your idea?

He might warm up to you.

If you get an ear in the mail,
it's probably mine.

My abdomen!

It's my abdomen!

It's just the effects
of withdrawal.

The pain is normal.

No! No!

This isn't right!

Abdominal pain
and distention

means we were wrong
about stimulant psychosis.

It could be
coexistent problems.

He might just have
an obstruction.

You know what House says
about coincidences.

I didn't feel any masses
when I examined him,

and no bowel sounds.

Where's House?

He hasn't come in yet,
and neither has Wilson.

I've already tried them
three times.

Here we go again.

Diabetes could cause
nerve damage in his hand,

and guts, and--

Except his glucose levels
are normal,

and he probably would've
mentioned he was a diabetic.

What about
ulcerative colitis?

Earlier attacks
caused thrombosis--

We already
looked for clots,

and there was no blood
in his stool.

Try him again.

And Wilson's.

Wherever they are,
they don't want to be disturbed.

[Georgia Steamroller's
Radar Love]

♪ ♪

♪ I been driving all night,
my hands wet on the wheel ♪

We take 78, we can do

the "sweet treats and salty eats
snack food trail."

My trip, my itinerary.

We have to cover
300 miles today

to be there
with plenty of time

to catch Julie
by 4:00 tomorrow.

And that thing I said
about letting you drive,

I lied.

What?

I'm--I'm impressed.

Not by that.

But by your real effort
to maintain the facade.

It's been almost an hour,

and there's been no mention
of the elephant in the car.

Well, I declined
the elephant option.

Uh-huh.

In three days,
you're gonna find out

if you live or die.

You don't want
to talk about it.

No, but obviously you do.

So, we're gonna
talk about it,

but because I want to.

I am neither
talking about it,

nor talking about
not talking about it.

You are hard-wired
to talk about it.

It's how you cope,
it's who you are.

Yeah, well,

from now on, I'm not me.

I'm...
I'm...

Kyle Calloway.

I thought your porn name
was Rusty Packard.

Kyle is roguish,
carefree,

and shares no qualities
with James Wilson.

Can Kyle drive stick?

♪ And I'm sure
I've had enough ♪

♪ she sends me comfort
coming in from above ♪

Treiber won't let us
do anything without House.

House just took himself
off the case.

You said no bowel sounds
when you examined him.

"No" like diminished,
or none at all?

- None.
- You think it's an intussusception?

If it is, it could mean
cancer's behind everything.

Let's get a plain film
of his abdomen.

Treiber will refuse
any procedure

that wasn't
ordered by House.

Only if he knows
it wasn't.

You want to lie to a guy

whose favorite pastime
is getting doctors fired.

We're adults with
advanced medical training,

not children left alone
with scissors.

It's one X-ray.

If we had a phone,

we could've found somewhere
a little less charming.

If we had a phone,
you'd be making calls,

downloading porn,
and playing Angry Birds.

This trip is about me,
and I like this place.

This is not about you
not wanting me to have a phone.

You're weak.

You knew that
you'd backslide

and spend your time talking to
teary ex-wives and your parents,

trying to make them feel better
about you being sick.

Bacon burger
with fries looks awful.

I'll have that.

I'll have the Big One.

You sure? It's $79.

Unless I finish it
in an hour,

in which case,
it's free.

It's an 80-ounce steak.

I'm hungry.
And an iced tea, please.

Big One's up!

This place doesn't
take credit cards.

My meal
is going to be free,

and I'm going to be inducted
into the wall of pain.

Hello, Kyle.

Belly film was normal.

No sign of an intussusception
or any other obstruction.

House says it's there.

Sometimes House is wrong.

Run my bowel.

That's serious surgery.

General anesthesia,
long recovery...

We can do a contrast enema
if you need more proof.

I have drawers filled
with people who had clean scans.

I know how easy it is
to miss something

unless you use your own
hands and eyes; Run my bowel.

We'll let House know
how you feel.

How I feel is twisted
in white-hot agony.

His orders were to look
for an intussusception.

Until you actually do that,
I refuse any other tests.

Fine.

Uh, no. Not fine.
We need to talk--

And I want you
to do the surgery.

Statistically, you're the best
surgeon in the hospital.

Kyle! Kyle! Kyle!

Come on, you got this!

You got this!

Come on!

25 seconds.

You've got this.

Come on, home stretch,
Kyle, home stretch!

15 seconds!

Now, don't chew,
just swallow.

Muscle it down!

Six, five...

Four...

For the love of God,
swallow!

Three, two, one...

Time!

Yes! Yes!

Oh, you magnificent
bastard!

Yeah.
Smile!

That still counts,
though, right?

No hard feelings, right?

You'll find out
when you wake up.

If you really think
I'm a good doctor,

why do you treat me
like an idiot?

It's not because
you lack talent.

It's 'cause
you've wasted it.

Did you know I applied
to be a fellow with House

the same year as you?

No.

Quit my other program,
relocated,

broke up with
my girlfriend.

Then your father made a call,
and suddenly you had the spot.

That was almost
ten years ago.

Do you know what
I could've done

after even three years
with House?

Gone to the CDC, W.H.O.

Started a diagnostics
department

someplace they'd never even
heard of such a thing.

You've been given
everything.

Looks, talent,

my future.

Nine years later,
look what you've done with it.

Ah...

Must be nice to be puking
for the old-fashioned reasons.

Ah.

I'm glad I did it.

You see those people
out there cheering for me?

I was a hero.

For one fleeting moment,

for an incredibly
stupid reason,

for a bunch of morons
I'll never see again.

God, it felt good.

And now,
if you'll excuse me.

I think I've made
room for dessert.

How long do you think
you'll work for House?

As long as he lets me.

When House was in prison,

you worked at Mercy
in plastics, right?

Know what I did?

Surfed.
For nine months.

Yes, and if I didn't have
two daughters and alimony,

I might have
done the same.

A fellowship's supposed to
train you to stand on your own.

Foreman's Dean
of the hospital,

Cameron's head of emergency
medicine in Chicago.

And Kutner and Amber
are dead,

and Thirteen is having sweet,
sapphic sex on some island.

Look at this.

The small intestine.

Is it an intussusception?

No.

Guess Treiber was right.

He hasn't checked
his voicemail.

Or his email.

It's been
almost 24 hours.

Shouldn't we call
Foreman or the police?

I think this
makes him a fugitive.

We don't have to
tell anyone.

Treiber's symptoms
started in his frontal lobe,

and moved through his nervous
system, hands, bowels, muscles.

Intermittent porphyria.
He's in the middle of an attack.

The longer we wait
to treat with hemin,

the more damage it causes.

The longer we wait to tell him
House isn't running the case,

the more damage that causes.

It's fraud.

It's only an issue
if we're wrong.

It's more than one X-ray.

More than exploratory
surgery, even.

This is a drug that will
damage him if you're wrong.

Same principle.

[Steppenwolf's Rock Me]

♪ ♪

♪ she asked me maybe
I could share her sorrow ♪

I want a threesome.

Shouldn't we try
a twosome first?

Two women.

Oh.
I know they're probably overrated,

and I'll probably
be gravely disappointed,

but I want one anyway.

No, you don't.

Well, Kyle wants one.

Kyle's only one day old.
He doesn't know what he wants.

I don't want to think
about consequences.

I don't want
to think about--

I don't want to think
about anything.

I just want to do.

♪ Rock me, baby,
rock me, baby ♪

♪ all night long ♪

♪ rock me, baby ♪
okay.

I need you to do exactly
what I tell you.

♪ Rock me, baby,
all night long ♪

♪ rock me, baby,
rock me, baby ♪

Yeah, yeah.

Porphyria?

I know the anesthesia
makes it hard to focus,

but we need to start you
on hemin right away.

House believes
very strongly.

This is the right call.

Okay.

♪ ♪

This thing is peeling.

Well, that is
the cost of cowardice.

Should've gone
for the real thing.

I feel like I'm cheating.

A, it is only cheating
if you don't have cancer,

and B,
it's Wednesday afternoon.

Pickings are slim,

and more importantly,
sober.

The cancer cut is the surest way
to the pity pooty party.

One down, one to go.

What?
Wait, wait, wait.

She said yes?

To a threesome?

She's empathetic.

She's a hooker.

- Gave me a cancer rate.
- No.

I have never paid
for sex in my life.

You still haven't.

It's my treat.

It's either that, or you find
two very open-minded women

to fall in love with you
in the next hour.

Bartender seems nice.

Seems female.

Want something to eat?

My friend is dying
of cancer.

Oh, you poor thing.

It took my mother
two years ago.

But you can't
give up hope.

He's pretty much resigned.

Just wants to go out
with a bang.

And another pun,
what time do you get off?

Pleural effusions.
It's not porphyria.

We're gonna need
to put in a chest tube.

I wanna talk to House.

We'll tell him exactly
what's happening.

I wanna talk to him!

I want House.

Where is House?

Where is he?

Where's House?

We don't know.

You didn't have to
sleep out here.

Four's a crowd.

Apparently they left
a long time ago.

So, how was it?

Was the amateur
as good as the pro?

It was confusing.

Perfunctory.

- A bit sad.
- Never mind.

And exactly
what I needed.

Thank you.

You feel like
buying me breakfast?

One of them
stole my wallet.

You're lucky he's not
pressing charges.

Porphyria
was a legitimate call.

Until
the pleural effusions.

We've done everything House
would've done if he'd been here.

You lied to a patient.

Treiber's condition
is declining rapidly.

He's agreed to let me
take over the case.

Dr. Chase will have no further
contact with the patient.

Fine.

I didn't say you were
off the case.

Sit down.

Ordered a cardiac MRI.

Enlargement
of the left ventricle

suggests an infiltrative
disease.

It's sarcoidosis.

We'll start him
on corticosteroids

and do a cardiac biopsy
to confirm.

I disagree. I was wrong
about the porphyria,

but I wasn't wrong
about the nervous system.

It's a Prion disease.

That's why his symptoms
have progressed so rapidly.

It's possible he was exposed
and didn't know it.

Brains are often stored

and not tested
until weeks after autopsy.

Treiber's too good to not
take the right precautions.

Maybe the problem is
he thinks the same thing.

His job's built
on the premise

that doctors make mistakes;
That includes him.

We should do
a brain biopsy.

In his condition?

Then we biopsy
the brains in the morgue.

Find the one
that exposed him.

It's a needle
in a haystack.

There's four of us.

Come on,
we can at least

start him on amphotericin
to halt the progress

while you do
your heart biopsy.

No, we can't. Amphotericin
plus the contrast dye

for the biopsy
would overwhelm his kidneys.

We have to choose
one or the other.

Biopsy his heart.

Wallets go in
the minibar freezer.

If there's no minibar,
the toilet tank.

I've got exactly $20 left.

I'm sorry, I wasn't familiar
with hooker protocol.

We can use
your credit cards.

No, we won't.

I'm still on probation.

Leaving the state
without permission

will really P.O.
my P.O.

Doesn't matter.

We can't even afford
gas to get home.

We're three hours
behind schedule.

We have enough gas
to get to Julie.

I don't care
about anything else.

What this time?

Just wondering how long
this can last.

You're still hoping
that I'm gonna wake up

and admit that
Kyle Calloway is just

some lame excuse to have
some naughty thrills aren't you?

I'm actually
hoping you won't.

I like Kyle.

Oh, come on.

[Motorhead's
Ace of Spades]

♪ ♪

Move! Move!

Whoo!

Whoo-hoo!

Whoo!

♪ The only card I need ♪

♪ is the ace of spades ♪

♪ the ace of spades ♪

♪ ♪

House.

You okay?

My leg still hurts.

Come on.

We got 20 bucks
to go 11 miles.

Why aren't you
answering your pages?

Busy.

The biopsy showed fibrosis
in his cardiac muscle.

So it's not
a Prion disease.

It means Foreman
was wrong too.

He wants everyone to meet
in his office to DDX.

So he can tell us all
it's an infection?

Interesting.
Or maybe you should consider

not being such a baby.

First instinct was
an exposure from a corpse.

Treiber spends
all his time here.

If it's not toxic gas,

not Prions...

Then it has to be
something else.

He's not perfect.

Are you trying to cure him
or discredit him?

Treiber can only see me
as not House.

Foreman too.

And they're not wrong.

So you're not
coming upstairs.

No.

And when this case
is over,

I'm quitting.

He's not quitting.

He already called
other hospitals.

Treiber did get
under his skin.

He'll get over it.

Fibrosis has to be
a response to an infection.

Chase said
you'd say that.

We'll test the biopsy samples
for viruses

and start him
on antivirals.

You're not even
gonna talk to Chase?

He didn't leave after
he got stabbed in the heart.

I think we're okay.

Either you're right,

and your friend
is just really upset,

or you're wrong, and he's come
at this calmly and rationally,

and you're about to
lose a good doctor.

Either way...

This is Oubliette, Ohio.

Buses don't run here
after 1968.

Ina said there's a bus
every 15 minutes.

Ina is living
in Alzheimersville.

Been here at least
half an hour.

Where are you going,
Ina?

Naples, Florida.

Ben and I have a beautiful
three-bedroom condo.

All on the one floor.

You're waiting
for a bus to Naples?

Comes every 15 minutes.

Ben'll be wondering
where his dinner is.

Cab.

Whoa, cab!

20 bucks, 11 miles.
Come on.

Come on, let's go.

Julie's gonna be
at the clinic

for another 45 minutes;
We can make this.

She thinks
she's in Florida.

Okay, bring her with.

I'm waiting for the bus.

Bus isn't coming, Ina.
But this cab is going to Naples.

Ben'll be getting
awfully hungry.

House.

We'll tell the cabbie
to call the cops.

They'll come pick her up,
take care of her.

Then I'll stay with her
until they do.

Good-bye, Kyle.

Bus comes
every 15 minutes.

Oh, shut up.

Find anything?

Not yet.

Running tests for MRSA.

You've got everybody worried
about your quitting.

You here as my boss
or my friend?

If I was here as your boss,
you'd be suspended by now.

I've learned a lot here.

Enough to run
my own team.

It's time I moved on.

Unfortunately,
that's how I felt last year.

And the year
before that.

Maybe there's a reason
you haven't left.

You need structure.

And support.

Somebody else
calling the shots.

You didn't come down here
as my boss or my friend.

You came down as House.

You're trying to insult me
into making a decision.

We've both seen it work.

Either you rise
to the challenge

and quit,

or you stay.

As a team member.

Dr. Treiber!

Dr. Treiber.

He stopped responding when
I was changing his I.V. bag.

Peter, open your eyes.

Coma.

Treiber's comatose.

All brains on deck.

Where should we start?
We think you might be right.

I'm not.

You couldn't have
gone through all of these.

Don't have to.

Treiber's reports
are thorough to a fault.

His methods are fastidious.

The answer
isn't down here.

Treiber didn't miss anything.
We did.

So what?

Psychosis, abdominal pain,
pleural effusions,

enlarged heart, coma.

Autoimmune,
maybe Goodpasture's.

Kidneys are fine.
Vasculitis?

- No fever.
- Lymphoma?

Would've seen it
on the heart biopsy.

Soap.

It's the soap.

I blew it.

Oh, God, here it comes.

As always.

All I wanted was
some meaningless fun,

and I couldn't even
last three days.

Sound asleep.

I'm sleep talking.

I had the chance to fulfill
a lifelong dream.

I swear, I will jump
out of this moving bus

if you don't shut up.

But instead, I sat with a sad,
old woman for 1 1/2 hours

who forgot I existed
three seconds after she left.

And the stupidest thing.

I never even had a crush
on Julie Christie.

In 12th grade I was madly
in love with Melanie Robbins,

who happened
to look exactly like

Julie Christie
in Dr. Zhivago.

And she really liked me.

Played spades every lunch period
in Mr. Charlton's classroom.

But of course,
there was this other guy.

A great guy. Very popular.
He had a car.

He had a band,

a mustache...

Kyle Calloway.

I assumed that--

I hoped that we would go
to the senior prom together,

but she asked me
for a favor.

She asked...

If I minded
if she went with him.

She asked me if I minded.

And I said I didn't.

And that was it.

And I just did it again.

I let it go,

like I let everything go.

And here I am,
sitting on this bus,

with tickets I bought
with my watch,

heading back home,
so a...

a CT scan
can decide my f-fate.

I don't wanna go back,
House.

I just--

I just wanna
keep being Kyle.

Kyle would've ditched

that sad, old woman
from the bus stop.

Probably would've
ditched me too.

I can live without Kyle.

Snoball?

Guess this isn't heaven.

We found out
who screwed up.

You.

It was your industrial-strength
antibacterial soap.

The additional triclosan
does two things well:

Kills MRSA

and makes your thyroid
look stupid.

It thinks the triclosan
is a real hormone

and closes up shop.

Excessive use over time

combined with
excessive use of this

led to hypothyroidism.

Which went undiagnosed until it
presented with psychosis.

When the ER put you
on the sedatives,

it kicked you into
myxedema crisis.

Don't know that I ever
would've thought of that.

House told us
to look for irony.

Hey.

This wasn't House.

[Kathleen Edwards's
A Soft Place to Land]

♪ ♪

♪ you think this is easy ♪

My locker key.

I'll give you
your own team.

Thanks.

But it's time
to step out of the shadow.

♪ Without
any strings attached ♪

♪ well, I'm lookin' for ♪

♪ a soft place to land ♪

It's about time.

♪ The palms of your hands ♪

♪ I'm lookin' for ♪

♪ a soft place to land ♪

♪ ♪

♪ I call it an ace ♪

♪ you've gotta believe me ♪

♪ but you're
calling me names ♪

♪ and not to my face ♪

Any news?

Not yet.

You come here so I could
talk you out of it?

I came to say thank you.

♪ I'm lookin' for ♪

♪ a soft place to land ♪

♪ the forest floor ♪

♪ the palms of your hands ♪

It's been fun.

♪ I'm lookin' for ♪

Fun?

♪ A soft place to land ♪

Sounded pithier than...

"We've shared
a variety of situations."

Let me know
about Wilson.

Why did you
let him go?

Legal loophole.
13th Amendment.

Abraham Lincoln may have
looked great in that hat,

but his labor policies...

House.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==