All language subtitles for S06E10 - The Down Low

So, I'm thinking 35.

Seems high to me.

Uh-huh. That's a fair
price for quality like this.

I'll give you 30.

What?
I thought you were joking.

Who am I dealing with
here, Eddie? Him or you?

Mickey, relax.

Now, if things move forward
with Gorski, he lets us into Philly,

then maybe I cut you a break.

You cut me a break now or
maybe you don't get with Gorski.

Marco, I thought we
had an understanding.

Whoa, whoa.

Tommy, don't be stupid.
Put the gun down.

First, he shows you
some respect.

All right, just listen to
your boss, all right, moron?

Shut up.

Just relax, buddy, all right?

What the hell are you thinking?

I didn't shoot him.

You sure? Look at him, he's
face down in the pavement.

I nailed myself in the foot!

I don't think he's hit.

Well, then, what happened?

Let's get out of here.

Come on, Mickey, wake up.
Mickey! Wake up!

We almost done here?

Assuming you did this
shaving your forehead.

Okay, then.
I'm ordering a head CT.

No, I don't have a headache,

I'm not dizzy.
Eddie, I gotta get back.

You gotta stay here.

We'll straighten out that
mess with Marco tomorrow.

Let the doc do his job.

Actually, stitching you up
is really the ER doc's job.

Yeah.
Too long of a wait.

Yeah. Also, a lot
of cops in the ER.

Not that you'd care about that.

So, how did this happen?

Yeah, you're right.
It's a stupid question

'cause the answer's
kind of obvious.

No scrapes on your hands means
you didn't try to break your fall,

means you were either out cold

or totally disoriented
when you went down.

No sign of trauma,
other than the cut,

means no one hit you
in the head.

And powder burn on your jacket
sleeve means someone shot a gun.

All right, Eddie.
Come on, let's go.

I don't care what
you guys are into.

If you don't get this checked
out, it'll happen again.

What will?

This,

Cool.

Thirty-two-year-old man recently
developed loud-noise-induced vertigo.

CT was clean, no internal
bleeding, no edema.

Everything else is in the file.

Cameron get your hair
in the divorce?

This guy strained his
back three years ago

and that's it.

All the rest of
these pages are blank.

Yes, he won't tell us anything.

Understandable,
since he's a drug dealer.

So he's dangerous
and withholding,

which you find irresistible.

But guys like that,
they never call.

He actually said
he was a drug dealer?

Not out loud.

But he was wearing a
solid-gold Patek Philippe,

his friend had a Rolex, but their
phones were prepaid burners,

so they can toss them
as soon as they're done.

It doesn't matter if
this guy's a drug dealer or not.

Noise-induced vertigo
means ear or brain.

Head CT was clean, so I'm
thinking acoustic neuroma.

We need to do an ABR
to test his hearing.

Acoustic neuroma fits, so does
Lidocaine toxicity or benzocaine,

depends what he's
cutting the coke with.

So now he's not just a drug
dealer, he's a cocaine dealer.

He seemed peppy.

You test his ears, I'm
gonna go test his cocaine.

You think this guy is
just going to hand over

a briefcase full of illegal
drugs because you ask nicely?

I hope not.

So, the best coffee's at Geena's

and the best pizza is at Gino's.

Yeah, and don't mix those up,

'cause the coffee at Gino's
could Kill you.

And how's the dry cleaner
on the corner?

Go two blocks over to EcoClean,

the one on the corner used to
shred all my boyfriend's shirts.

Good to know.
In retrospect,

I should really
thank those cleaners.

We broke up.
This is my stop.

So if you have
any more questions

about the neighborhood,
I'm your girl.

Uh, favorite sushi place? Maybe
we could get dinner sometime.

Sure, if you promise to bring

that good-looking guy
with the cane.

You mean House?

Your boyfriend's name is House?

He's not my boyfriend.

Oh.

I'm sorry. What do
you call each other?

Husband?
Partner? Lover?

We're not gay.

Seriously?

You're going to hear a
series of clicks and hisses.

The sensors measure electronic
activity to your auditory nerve.

How long is this gonna take?

An hour, maybe
an hour-and-a-half.

Or you could walk away
with a tumor in your ear.

Guy's probably late
to a stabbing.

Impedances look good,

starting at 13 clicks per
second at 50 decibels.

Check this out.

Thirteen's middle name
is Beauregard?

Wave 3 latency is 3.8.

Slightly delayed,
but nothing significant.

That's what sticks out to you?

House is clearly screwing
with us. It's a fake pay stub.

Looks real to me.

There's no way
she makes that much money.

I make that much money.

And apparently, you don't.

I need the drugs.

We're in textiles.

I need the drugs!

Hmm.

Works for Jack Bauer.

Is this really necessary?

The chairs in the hall
are way more comfortable.

But way less genre-appropriate.

Okay, here's the deal.

I need information.

You have reasons not to
give me that information.

So either I can
force it out of you

or I can't.

I wish I could tell you.

Okay. Well,
let's work with that.

Forget the drugs,
let's talk about textiles.

What's your major product?

Is it H? And by that
I mean hosiery.

We deal more with culottes.

Is that with a "C" or a "K"?

"C." Nobody wants K
any more.

Does your friend cut the fabric?

No, he's a sales guy.

Well, he must cut a culotte
here and there.

No one touches the culottes.

Sorry. Can I talk
to you for a second?

I'm interrogating a suspect.
Make it quick.

Everyone in our building
thinks we're gay.

We're grown men, over the
age of 30, who moved in together.

We're two tigers away
from an act in Vegas.

They'll figure out we're
straight, eventually.

"Eventually" is not when I want
to go out with the cute girl in 3B.

Any chance I could get
some water over here?

If only there was some way

to communicate that
information to her,

perhaps using,
I don't know, sounds.

If only the larynx
was capable of...

She didn't believe me. She
sidestepped my dinner invite.

And a woman would
only reject you because she's worried

you might not be
interested in her.

We were chatting, having fun,

there was definitely a spark.

When she thought you were gay.

You sure your friend
isn't secretly trying...

What is a culotte, anyway?

They're pants that
hang like a skirt.

Just...

Mickey hates the stuff.

He's one of the few guys I trust

to watch the product overnight.

They took him away an hour ago.

You think he's okay?

It's an ear test. I'm
pretty sure he'll live.

Pupils are constricted.
Pulse is bounding.

Airway's clear. We
need a crash cart in here.

It's gotta be
his blood pressure.

We need to get it down
before he strokes out.

At least we know
his ears are okay.

We put the patient
on vasodilators,

got his hypertension
under control.

He got worse here
at the hospital,

means thug life probably
isn't what's making him sick.

Which means we can stop
The Bloodhound Gang routine

and go back to being doctors.

But we're doctors all
the time. It's so boring.

Fine.

Could be sick sinus syndrome.

No chest pain,
shortness of breath.

Brain aneurysm secondary
to polycystic kidney disease?

Normal urinalysis, kidneys
impalpable. Is that a new watch?

I thought I'd give
myself a little treat.

What if it's not his brain,

but it's on the way
to his brain?

Carotid stenosis.

Get an ultrasound
of his carotids,

see if his arteries are clogged.

How much money do you make?

I want a raise.

And I will be happy
to talk about that

at your next review, in August.

I know that you're
paying me less

than everyone else on the team.

I can't discuss other people's
salaries. You know that.

Now that they know
I'm making less

than they are,
they'll never respect me.

And who told them
how much you make?

It's not fair for me to make
less than the people I supervise.

Salary isn't about fairness.

It's about what you can
leverage in a negotiation,

which isn't much without a
competing offer on the table.

And we both know
you don't have one.

Ultrasound showed no narrowing
or obstruction in the patient's carotid.

Not that he's worried, keeps
asking when he can leave.

A
Place in the business of healing people,

you'd think they'd
have better chicken soup.

You bugged his room?

Our patient sleeps
in the building

where they keep their stash.

Eventually, he'll say something

that gives away where that is.

Then we'll find out
what's making him sick.

But we ruled out
environmental causes.

You ruled out
environmental causes.

And you pretended to agree

just so we'd take
him out of his room

So you could plant the bug.

Carotid stenosis
was a decent idea.

But an even
decent-er idea is that

he's got toxins stored
in his fat cells.

Every calorie he burns
makes him sicker.

If we're going
with toxic exposure,

we should just start testing
for the most likely suspects.

Bug's a better idea than
blindly running tests for days.

Tell him it'll take weeks.

It'll be faster.

What do you mean, weeks?

These tests take time,
there are a lot of possibilities.

I can't sit here this long.

I got things
I gotta take care of.

If you're worried about
all the poor schoolchildren

going without their drugs,

I'm sure someone...
I want to be discharged.

I'll get the forms.

This is ridiculous.

Beats sitting in a lab all day.

In the lab,
there is significantly

less chance of getting killed.

You're too close, slow down.

We're in a car in broad
daylight, what's gonna happen?

You honestly think he
doesn't have a gun in that car?

That he's gonna use
to shoot doctors?

Just back off.

Hey, well played with
the watch, by the way.

Borrowed it from a friend.

How much longer are we
gonna keep lying to him?

Until it's no longer fun.

We all thought he needed to
be taken down a few notches.

So, we're just having fun,
not getting even?

Oh, crap.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

He's gonna get away.

Shut up.

3B. You're Nora, right?

My roommate tells me
you're the one to thank

for all the tips about the
neighborhood. Greg.

Nice to meet you.

I hear you thought
that Wilson and I liked

to polish each other's swords.

And by swords, I mean pistols.

Of course
he told you about that.

Don't worry. Actually, I'm surprised
that it doesn't happen more often.

We're both straight.

Oh, my God, that is beautiful.

We finally have the room to
display it the way it deserves.

Would you help me
get this upstairs?

Absolutely.

Nice shoes, by the way.
Louboutins?

Did you talk to Cuddy?

Shot me down.

So, what are you
going to do now?

I'll wait for
my review in August.

Oh.

What?

Nothing. That's what I
would do. But I'm a coward.

His friend brought
him in 15 minutes ago.

Temp's 105,
pulse is weak and thready.

He's not making any sense.

It's too much money, Eddie.

That wasn't the deal.
That wasn't the deal.

Is he gonna be okay?

Eddie!

We gave him
anti-pyretics and soft steroids

to reduce the fever
and prevent organ damage.

He's no longer delirious.

Patient went out, came
back worse than before.

Points us back to environmental,
tied to wherever he went.

No, it doesn't.

Where's Foreman? He
had a meeting with Cuddy.

What do you mean,
no, it doesn't?

We screwed up the tail,
my car was impounded.

True, amusing, and irrelevant.

Foreman fall for
the pay check thing?

Yeah.

Mazel tov.
Should be fun to watch.

You're off environmental?
Wherever he went,

it wasn't for long enough.

Add in the fever and
infection's way more likely.

And if it is an infection,

his symptoms suggest it's
moved to his brain, which means...

We'll do a lumbar puncture.

Next time you're tailing
someone, take two cars.

You knew we were following you?

I'm sorry, had to lose you.

I had business to take care of.

Right, because
you're a businessman.

You know how many junkies
come into the ER

every week with
their brains melting?

I bet there's more drunks
with their livers giving out,

but a liquor store owner
laying on this table,

I'm guessing he doesn't
get attitude.

I hit bone.

His old back injury must
have flattened out his discs.

Sorry, but I've got
to try this again.

Are you okay?
Yeah.

An adult wants to get wasted,

why is it anybody's business
what substance they use?

Because some of those
substances are against the law.

So your problem isn't
that it's immoral,

your problem is
that it's illegal.

I got the same problem.

I'm in.

Look at his heart rate.

It's normal.
I know.

I ran into Nora this morning.

She told me about your
Evita listening party.

The London and New York
recordings are so different.

You were supposed to
tell her that we're straight.

She didn't believe me either.

You're doing this
to mess with me.

Correction. I started
doing this to mess with you.

Now I'm honestly
trying to hit that.

By pretending you're gay
and in a relationship with me?

We're in a relationship,
but we're really unhappy.

Communication's
never been easy for us,

probably because
we're so closeted.

I've got it all figured out.

Nora and I spend the next
few weeks hanging out,

become best girlfriends, I
confide in her about our issues.

I can't decide if this plan is
more despicable or illogical.

Then one night, we get drunk,

backrub turns into a front
rub, and the next morning,

"I've never felt this way
about a woman before."

That's quite
a commitment you've made

to jumping the girl
I'd like to date.

I'd like to date her.

In the sense that I'd like
to jump her repeatedly.

I saw her first.

Seriously? You're
invoking the Guy Code?

We're guys.
It's a code.

You're only bringing this up

'cause you know
you're going to lose.

It's not an infection,

but it might be an
autonomic nerve disorder.

The hair's still bumping me.

Did you get it cut because you're
ready for the next chapter or...

We stuck a needle into
his spinal bodies, twice,

his heart rate stayed normal.

If we add that to
his other symptoms...

That would be a mistake.

She's never gonna fall for it.

Well, then, you've got
nothing to worry about, sweetie.

You're a wuss.

Say that when I'm better.

What, are you gonna beat
me up? That sounds stressful.

Maybe you should pop one
of your beta-blockers first.

You have a heart problem?

Medically, no. He
would've told us about that.

Metaphorically...

It's an effect from
operating outside of the law.

Sometimes,
I have to do bad things,

and not always to bad people.

Last few months,
that hasn't been so easy.

A guy got me the pills,
and they control the stress.

Look, don't say anything
to Eddie, all right?

Last thing I need is the guys
thinking that I've gone soft.

When was your last pill before
we originally admitted you?

Um... The night before.

Then we stuck you in here and
you went into beta-blocker withdrawal.

That's what caused
the hypertension.

When he got out of here,
he took another pill,

and the hypertension went away,

which means
it was never a symptom.

We take that off the table,
we've got vertigo, fever...

And stress. He's been
in this game for a while,

either he grew a conscience
over the last few months,

or he's producing
excess adrenaline.

Pheochromocytoma.

What?
That's Greek for

"you'll be back doing bad
things to good people in no time."

MRI his adrenal glands.
You're okay with that, right?

You're not gonna put
a pillow over his face?

Oh, great, the cable guy came.

Hello.

Hi, James. We've got
some Kung Pao left.

Oh, God.
Right there.

We're having a picnic.

With wine.

I'll pour you a glass.

He doesn't drink.

Oh.

More for us then.

Well,

I think I might
have a little Kung Pao.

How did it go with Cuddy?

She told me I needed leverage,

so I told her about an offer

I had to help run the
neuro department at Mercy.

Wow.

Are you really
gonna take the job?

There is no other job.

I bluffed, she called it.

I'm not gonna beg
to be underpaid.

I'm leaving when
this case is over.

House is lying to you.

I know.

And so are you.

It's 2010. I mean, nobody
cares if you're gay any more.

I mean, you don't
have to be in the closet.

I'm not.

Look around you.
Does this really

look like a place gay men live?

Apart from the poster.

Those stools are
our only furniture.

There are no window treatments.

My ex-boyfriend didn't even
know what window treatments were.

Is that Greg's Carpenters
album, or yours?

Look, House hates musicals
and fashion and meringue.

This whole thing is an act
designed to earn your trust

in order to sleep with you.

I get it.
Finally.

You're jealous.

If you want to spend more time
with Greg, you should just tell him.

You were wrong.

MRI revealed no sign
of a pheochromocytoma,

which means Mickey's
stress is just stress.

We're back to vertigo and fever.

And environmental is back at
the top of our list of suspects.

We're trying to narrow
down the possibilities.

That receiver doesn't
respond to manual stimulation.

Maybe if you took off
your shirt...

Actually, I've resorted to
something more exotic.

I call it reading
the instructions.

Turns out, if you screw the
antennae into the wrong sockets,

it doesn't actually work.

We lost Mickey just
outside of Trenton.

It's supposed to search
for an open frequency.

Most buildings there were
built between 1920 and 1940.

We compiled a list of
toxins most common...

There's got to be at
least one open frequency.

I need a few minutes
with your friend.

Or stay if you want.

Rectal exam.

I'll check out the cafeteria.

Why the beta-blockers?

What do you mean?

Valium or Xanax
actually reduce stress.

Beta-blockers just control
the symptoms of stress...

Whoa.

Keep the heart from racing,
hands from shaking,

and all those
stage fright issues.

That's why some people
take them when they

perform.

What the hell is that?

This is my bug.

And this...

This...

This is yours.

You bugged your own room?
Are you an informant?

An informant would've
sold his pals out to us

at the first sign of a sniffle.

This guy is a cop.

I don't see
how this is relevant.

In the land of No Fun, you got a
really sensible piece of property.

Give him a break.

Knowing this guy's
an undercover cop

doesn't get us
any closer to curing him.

Good point.
You know what they say,

information is
not power. Wait.

You're saying we should use
the cop thing to force him to talk.

Force? I'm talking about the
womanly art of persuasion.

I said womanly.

If you won't talk to
us, we'll find someone who will.

I mean, you must have
a supervisor, a handler.

Good luck with that. You
don't know my real name.

You don't know if I'm
local or state, FBI, DEA,

but by all means,
get on the phone.

I get it.
These guys are lowlifes,

you want them off the street.

Look, they're not just lowlifes.

Eddie killed a snitch
three weeks ago.

Boss's orders.

The boss,
he's one of the biggest

cocaine importers
in the entire state.

And he wants to
expand down to Philly.

Tomorrow night, he and
Eddie are meeting the big fish,

and the cops are gonna bust it.

But if you guys get caught
poking around there,

the whole thing gets called off.

That's noble, but you
can't put your life at risk.

I've been undercover
for 16 months.

I haven't seen my wife,
my house, my dog.

I've put far too much into this,

and I will not let it fail.

So, just...

Just keep me alive
for another 24 hours

and I will tell you
everything you need to know.

Hey. Can I come in?

Nurses out here can't keep
their hands off of me.

Casanova, huh?

You bring me my sandwich?

No, because, guess what,
I don't read minds.

You okay?

He had a GI infarction
caused by a clot

in his superior
mesenteric artery.

We had to remove
a foot of bowel.

Any more clots keep forming,
he may not last 24 hours.

And the moron still won't talk.

Bad guy, cool, good guy, moron?

Pretty much.

Guy's a hero.

He's risking his life to
put these dealers in jail.

Well, I'm sure the dealers

who take their places
will be very grateful.

So, vertigo, fever,
and thrombosis.

We already ruled out
cancer and infection.

He got worse on steroids, which
suggests it's not autoimmune.

So we're stuck
with environmental.

But what kind of environmentals?

Toxins? Parasites?
Allergens?

We should just pick the top 10
possibilities and treat for all of them.

Except that treating
for everything could

Kill him faster than
whatever's Killing him.

Got a better idea?

Sort of.

Chase is right,
our patient's holding out

for noble reasons,
protecting his bust.

Anybody else in
that crew got sick,

I'm guessing they'd be
a little more self-serving.

Thanks.

Surgery went well. You'll
be able to see him soon.

Used to be all about
Ferberizing your kid,

now they're saying
it could mess them up.

Mine's six-and-a-half.

Mickey's getting worse.

The clot is a very bad sign.

We really need you to
tell us where he's been.

I do that,

a very good chance that I could
end up John Doe at the county ME.

Look, Mickey got sick because
he had the most exposure.

Other guys are at risk,
too, you don't want to...

Are you okay?

I feel dizzy.

Are you diabetic?

No.

When was the last time
you were at your office?

Whoa.

Did you drug me?
What?

You're trying to make
me think that I'm sick

so I'll take you to the stash.

Of course not,
but if you are sick...

I don't feel sick,
I feel drugged.

Trust me, I know the difference.

You didn't even
drink half of it,

you'll be fine in an hour.

You think Mickey could die?

It's just a deal.

I'll take you.

You couldn't have
given us a heads up

that he was living
in a dry cleaner?

It's like living
in a vat of poison.

Is that it?
Can we get out of here?

I've got to cover all our bases.

Okay, fine, look.
Back there. Hurry up.

What are these? More
chemicals? Not exactly.

If this stuff was the problem,

there would be
a lot more sick people.

Did you call the cops?

No.

No one's supposed to be here.

Come here.

I said no kissing.

Eddie, I didn't know
you'd be here.

Look, the deal was just for you.

This guy wants to watch,
it's an extra 50.

Yeah, private party, man.
I got it covered tonight.

Nice.

The jealousy is killing me.

Well,

he clearly cares
about you very much.

Why can't he show it
in a normal way?

I'm so tired of all the
silence and the resentment.

I don't know if I can
go back there tonight.

I need some time.

Come stay at my place.

Really?

Mmm-hmm.

It'll be fun, like a sleepover.

That would be such a help.
Thank you.

House.

What are you doing here?

I'm here because...

Nothing you can say is
going to change anything.

I love this man.

And I am not wasting another
moment of my life denying that.

Gregory House,

will you marry me?

Wow.

This is unexpected.

Say yes.

I'm going to go.
No, no, no.

You two obviously have
some talking to do. Excuse me.

How's it coming?

So far, nothing.

Carpet, paint, insulation, even
the gross food in the fridge,

everything's coming up clean.

Which leaves
the dry-cleaning chemicals.

Should have the results
in a few minutes.

Foreman's already started
him on inhaled Albuterol.

Chances are this case is over.

We have to tell him.
We can't tell him.

It won't change the fact
that Cuddy let him walk.

It'll just let him know it was
all because of a stupid prank.

We have to tell Cuddy. We
confess and beg her to take him back.

If begging worked, he would have
a raise and we wouldn't be screwed.

Albuterol's not helping,

patient started coughing blood.

What about adding
ipratropium? That might...

Don't bother.

We assumed this place
was using perchloroethylene.

Turns out, petroleum solvents.

The drug dealers are
running a green dry cleaner.

I hate to push past the irony,

but our patient's
bleeding into his lungs

and we've got nothing.

The V/Q scan last night
showed a pulmonary aneurysm.

Explains the coughing blood.

Did an embolization
and stopped the bleeding,

but then it started up again this
morning. Three more aneurysms.

These look like
mycotic aneurysms,

indicates a fungal infection.

That'd be consistent with his other
symptoms, the vertigo, the fever...

I didn't see any fungus at the
location, and none of the samples...

Looks like somebody
missed something,

which is embarrassing
for somebody.

And the steroids
we gave him would

have suppressed
his immune system.

If that was a fungus,
he'd have 30 aneurysms.

Somebody's got a good point.

One bleed to four in less than 12
hours seems like an uptake to me.

We need to start him
on antifungal meds

before he drowns
in his own blood.

Do it.

How long till it starts working?

Give it a few hours. I'll
be back to check on you.

There you go.
Take it easy.

You shouldn't have taken
her there, you imbecile.

They found nothing,

and you could've got
your brains blown out.

I had to do something. I
couldn't just sit and watch and...

You're my friend.

Thanks.

You'd do it for me.

Ah!

I should get going.

Got the big man from Philly
coming in tonight.

You want me to stay, I'll stay.

I mean, Jimmie knows
everything that we know.

No.

For the six months
we put in on this,

you gotta be there.

I'll swing by tomorrow.

Hey, Eddie.

Yeah?

I'm sorry.

You know,
that I can't go with you.

It was all our fault.

We were screwing with Foreman,

trying to make him think
he made less than we did.

Obviously, things got
out of control.

Someone does something
stupid and insensitive,

I always figure it was House.

Good to know it's catching.

Look, there is no other job.

He was just trying
to get a raise.

Even if you gave him a little
more money, I know he'd stay.

I'm not giving Foreman a raise

because the three of you
decided to amuse yourselves.

We know. And that's
why we want you

to take it out
of our pay checks.

You two okay with this?

Is there any other option?

We're okay with it.

Foreman is a good team leader.

He deserves it.

Okay, then.

That is what I will do.

And just so you know,

I have no idea what
you're talking about.

I haven't seen Foreman
in three days.

The phrase "Who's your
daddy?" comes to mind.

You wanna grab some coffee?

Kind of a bad time.

Sorry.
You told me to drop by,

so this is when I could make it.

Right. Come in.

This whole thing with
Wilson, it's all my fault.

We're not closeted
because we're not gay.

For real.

Wilson thought you were cute,

I was just yanking his chain.

Maybe that's not
the best phrasing.

So you were only spending
time with me to screw with him?

God, no. I was
spending time with you

because I want
to touch your boobs.

Enough to listen to Evita,
twice, and I really hate Evita.

That's how much
I like your boobs.

Wait. Wait, wait.

Wilson, he's a really good
guy and he really likes you.

Well, it's really...

It's sweet of you to stick
up for your friend like that.

And you're still trying
to sleep with me.

Maybe I will call him,
it would serve you right.

Wilson's a jerk, too.

At least he tried to
do the right thing.

He's been divorced three times,

he slept with a dying patient.

Sure, he looks like
a Boy Scout, but that...

The aneurysms look mycotic,

but they're not,
they're inflammatory.

Because it's not
a fungal infection.

The hypertension
was a real symptom.

You've been unwittingly
treating it with beta-blockers.

You stopped taking them and
your blood pressure went up.

It's Hughes-Stovin.

Okay, so how do we treat this?

We don't.

Hughes-Stovin is
an autoimmune disease.

Once it's this advanced,
there's not much we can do.

The aneurysms keep multiplying.

Eventually,
one of them will rupture.

Are you sure?

If you die in the next
day or so, I will be.

Even if you had told us
everything we wanted to know,

it wouldn't have
made a difference.

You did the right thing.

I think I should
call my wife now.

I'm sorry about your patient.

He died a hero in his own mind.

I guess it's
better than nothing.

Ran into Nora in the elevator.

She no longer thinks we're gay,

now she thinks we're
mendacious dirtbags.

Mendacious dirtbag comes
much more naturally to me.

At least we can get rid of that.

I kind of like it.

Unlike this sofa.

It's 500 bucks.

And it reclines.

One singular
sensation Every little step she takes

I will punch you in the face.

I'll stop if you
get rid of the sofa.

No chance.

One thrilling combination
Every move that she makes

One smile and
suddenly nobody else will do