Author's Notes: Okay, so I had the write a sequel. Thanks a lot to Sputty, for giving me the idea that sparked this chapter, and to everyone who reviewed the first part! I seriously doubt that there will be a part 3, but should inspiration ever strike, I will post. So here you go - enjoy!

Many Words Begin With T

Part 2

"The."

"Cat."

"And."

"Dog."

"And."

"Pigs."

"And."

"House!"

"And."

"You have to use more than one word!"

"And?"

"Because that's the way you play the game. If you won't play, then I can start lecturing you about your little prank in Geriatrics yesterday—"

"Ran!"

"Fast."

"Across."

"The."

"Moon."

"Until."

"They."

"Saw."

"A."

"Big."

"Son."

"Of."

"A."

"..."

"Go on."

"..."

"You have to say a word, Wilson. It's the rules."

"If I was able to move my hands right now, I would be strangling you right now."

"Be a man, Wilson. Say it!"

"..."

"Wilson..."

"...Shoehorn."

"Son of a shoehorn?"

"That's more than one word, House."

"I don't care. This game is stupid."

"Do you have a better idea?"

"You could let me go to sleep... my head hurts."

"You hear that sound in the distance? It's the world's smallest violin, playing a sad, solo tune just for you."

"Ha, ha, Wilson. So funny I forgot to laugh."

"Was that supposed to hurt?

"Hey, what is this, the Overused Lines Convention?"

"This is stupid."

"It's keeping me awake."

"Let's play another game."

"Ooo! I know!"

"...Do I want to know?"

"I Spy! I love that game!"

"You know, House, to play I Spy you have to be able to see."

"That'll make it more interesting. I'm going first—I spy something... white."

"I can't see anything white! I can't see anything but the floor!"

"Quit whining. You're making my head hurt."

"It already hurts."

"Not the point."

"Fine... Is it one of those boxes?"

"Nope."

"A suture kit?"

"No."

"Gloves?"

"You suck at this game."

"I can't see anything!"

"You hear that sound in the distance? It's the world's smallest violin, playing a sad, solo tune just for you."

"Ha, ha. Get your own witty comebacks, House."

"Here, we'll start again. I spy something orange."

"Your underwear."

"Heh. No."

"A coffee pot."

"Now what would a coffee pot be doing down here, Wilson?"

"I don't know! House, I can't see anything! This is insane!"

"Stop being so cranky. We're playing a game—games are fun!"

"I've changed my mind. Go ahead and fall asleep. A little brain damage on your part is worth the silence."

"Some friend you are, Wilson. I feel loved."

"That must be new for you."

"Oh, that was harsh."

"I'm getting a headache..."

"I'll distract you. I spy something... blue."

"The janitor!"

"Right... because the janitor is Papa Smurf's illegitimate grandnephew."

"No, I hear the night janitor! Listen!"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Hey! Hey, we're stuck under here!"

"Yeah! It's about time you got down here—just wait until Cuddy hears how you dawdle!"

"Over here! Under the boxes!"

"Hey! What's taking so long? Get over here and help us!"

"We're stuck!"

"He's leaving... listen, Wilson. He's leaving! Hey!"

"No, he's not..."

"..."

"..."

"Oh, crap..."

"What?"

"The night janitor's Moe."

"And?"

"Moe's deaf."

"..."

"..."

"Please. Just shoot me now."

"You'd think I was annoying or something, Wilson."