"What is this?" House spat, throwing the sheet of paper on Wilson's desk. Wilson didn't look up to identify the "this" House meant. He knew exactly what his friend was talking about.
"Assignments for the charity carnival."
"Yes, it says that at the top of the page," House said angrily. "But what is," he pointed, "this?" There on the page, below "Dunk tank- Nurse Brenda Williams," "Milk bottle game- Dr. Robert Chase," "Fishing game- Dr. Allison Cameron," and "Basketball toss- Dr. Lisa Cuddy," was typed "Kissing booth- Dr. Greg House."
"No one else wanted to do it," Wilson replied.
"I don't want to do it either!" House exclaimed.
"Then you shouldn't have missed the meeting."
"Change it," House said, like a petulant child.
"I can't. Everyone else is already assigned something."
House looked at the list again. "You aren't assigned anything," he said accusingly.
Wilson rubbed his forehead with his palm, sighing. "House. I am planning the entire carnival. I have to run everything. It's the Oncology Charity Carnival."
"I don't want to kiss people for money. Next thing you know, I'll be on the streets blowing attractive young men for spare change. Kissing booths are a gateway drug."
Wilson took a deep breath. "I'm more worried about convincing people to pay money for you to kiss them. Maybe I can keep a piece of duct tape over your mouth up until the kiss and then quick put it back over so you can't talk to them and make them regret it."
"Kinky."
"Get out of my office, House."
"Only if you promise to be first in line."
The day was crisp but not too cold as the carnival began. Wilson walked to each booth and checked to make sure everything was going well. People of all ages were wandering around the grounds. Quite a few had already lined up at the various stalls and booths.
As the fair went on, Wilson traversed the area, making mental notes as to which games were most popular and which were not. Wilson stopped at Cuddy's booth (it was crowded with a large number of children eager to take their turns tossing basketballs into hoops for stuffed animal prizes).
"Have you visited the main attraction?" She asked, giggling. Wilson was confused. Cuddy rarely giggled. She had a great sense of humor and laughed often. But a laugh is not a giggle. And anyway,
"What 'main attraction'?" Wilson asked. 'And why does it have you giggling like a teenager?' he added silently.
Cuddy gestured in reply, then turned back to her booth. Wilson followed her pointing finger past a row of booths selling cotton candy, soft drinks, popcorn, to a booth that had a longer line than any of the others. Wilson watched as college students shouting with laughter, shy young women being goaded by their friends, old ladies gossiping in a group; all lined up for their turn at the kissing booth.
In the midst of the crowd, House planted kisses left and right, looking handsome and acting rather... well, charming. Wilson saw him whisper something in an old woman's ear and she cackled with laughter. Wilson smiled. He made his way to the front.
"What's going on?" he asked House.
"I'm doing what you told me to do. And now I can't stop. Gateway drug, remember?" House grinned.
Wilson was taken aback. "You're not... high, are you?"
House made a face. "Well, to be honest, I popped a couple of your happy pills. Not the little blue ones," he laughed, shocking Wilson further. "You know, the anti-depressants. I figured hazy might be what I needed to get through this."
"House," Wilson said, attempting in vain not to smile back at his friend. "Those are prescription."
"Uh-huh," House replied, not caring. "Now, if you'll excuse me... unless you came for a kiss..." Wilson shook his head, chuckling- maybe even giggling- and walked away.
Later, after the crowds had left and the grass was littered with napkins, candy wrappers, popcorn boxes, Wilson returned. The drugs had worn off; House looked less happy. But not a lot less. "Now," Wilson said. "How about that kiss?"