Yay, Fay got my joke. Namely that "Shermer High School" does not exist; it was John Hughes' fake high school name.(Also, they were there about the same time as The Breakfast Club and talking about Andrew taping that guy's butt together.

Aw, Fay! That's just adorable! Hee.

The characters Aldis usually plays would say orientated-most folks age 30 and under do. Hardison would probably say oriented, because he's geeky enough to be precise in his word choice, or at least that's my impression. I could easily be wrong.

I am 30, and 100% of the time I would say "goal-oriented." Because that's invariably how I hear the phrase used, but also I think orientated is a silly word.

The Brits say "orientated" all the time, don't they?

My vote (if it counts) is to leave as is. Because if even highly-edumucated folks, such as ourselves, can get into such a tizzy over it, then I think Hardison is smart enough to make up his own mind. And has probably had arguments over the exact same thing with Nate, who is obviously of an older generation.

Feeling a bit like I sent some dailies to Van Sant, here, but hey, that worked out, right? But what I'm asking is: is this funny, or just gross? Because Ari walks such a fine line.Walks it, hell, he has a beachfront condo there.

ARI is zipping along in his Ferrari, maybe talking on the phone or wrestling with script pages.He hits a COLLEGE GIRL’s back bumper, as she is riding in her beat-up car with her DATE.

ARI Son of a bitch!

He starts drumming his hands on the steering wheel impatiently.

COLLEGE GIRL Nice driving, jerkoff!!She gets out of her car to inspect her dinged bumper, but carefully, as she is wearing a tight dress.

ARI How do you figure this is my fault?

GIRL You rear-ended me! That makes it your fault. Everybody knows that.

ARI gets out of the Ferrari, which the DATE, Troy, is looking at reverently.

(Indicating DATE) So fucking what…it’s not like it’s even the first time.

DATE Now, dude, don’t go getting all personal. We haven’t even slept together yet.

GIRL Yet? What kind of thing is that to say?

DATE Come on, Kara. Look at what you’re wearing…you didn’t invite me to look at your stamp collection.(to ARI) Am I right?

ARI Yeah, I gotta say that Ugly Tobey Maguire has got a point, Care. Absofuckinglutely.

DATE Yeah, see, he thinks…(ARI’s burn sinks in) No, wait—what?

ARI(under breath) While we’re young, Mark Fuhrman..(AS COP in squad car pulls up) COP What’s happened here?

ARI How are you doing tonight?...do you know what a technical advisor is? Cause I could make that happen for you with one phone call.

COP Sir, this is L.A. And I was not born yesterday…of course I know what a technical advisor is. But, for right now, let’s focus on the incident in front of us, okay?

ARI(still pitching) Jimmy Woods is gonna fuckin’ love the way you slice through the bullshit, man. I’m serious.

COP James Woods? Onion Field James Woods? Of course, he played a real shitbird in that one…

ARI Purest movie magic, my friend. And he’s played a cop a bunch of times as well.

KARA Don’t listen to a word he said…that old guy wrecked my car.

Hearing “old guy” applied to himself is like ARI got a cold shower with his clothes on.

Probably going to hell for drabbling somebody's funeral, but here it is
Entourage.(In some ways, Entourage is like a big fanfic itself.)

"Dana Gordon."

"You going to this thing? I know Hughes was one of old Bob's clients, but some of my people are going to be there and they might need a little hand-holding." Ari Gold faked a put-upon sigh.

"So they called you? How masochistic of them."

"That's what I always dug about you, DG...you always know the right fucking thing to say."

"And here I thought it was my curvy ass...you don't have me on speaker again do you?"

"Absolutely not." Ari pressed a button and turned Speaker off.
"No, much as I might like to, I can't fly to Chicago in the middle of the week...I sent flowers though. Oh, Ari, why didn't anybody warn me about this job."

"Why? Don't tell me you strained something lifting your wallet.",

"Yeah, sure, the money's great, especially now. And I like getting to greenlight projects that matter to me..."

"And I like that my boy Vinnie gets your panties wet, Dana."

"I may be a studio head, Ari, but I'm still a woman. That's why the lack of human contact...it's..."

"And, don't worry about just how much of your championing of Vince is really unresolved feelings for me, I won't say anything."

"Look, Ari, I wasn't going to say this because if your plane went down, I'd feel terribly guilty. But after that, I've got no choice. The saddest thing about my new job is that I talk to so few people about anything but facts and figures you're beginning to look good to me."

"Whatever gets you through the night, baby."

'Right back atcha. But I'm serious, Ari, doesn't it make you think? One day Hughes was alive, and the next he's not..."

"I always wanted to go out in the saddle...we could make a date...New Year's 2040, how's that?"

Dana rolled her eyes. "Ok, you're on. But doesn't it make you think?"

"Think what? Dana, he was dead in the business for years."

"Ari, I'm not talking about the fucking business! God, this explains so *much* about your wife."

"What's wrong with my wife?"

Dana snorted. "I'd tell you, but I hoped to get to the beach this weekend. But she's attention starved, which feeds her materialism..."

"Well, excuse me, I must have missed the week you decorated your office in recycled orange crates, Mz. Gordon."

"Fuck you, Ari."

"Say that again, louder and faster. And single people can never know what goes on within marriage."

"I know I've known her ten years and she still looks at me like she wants to pull my hair out...you'll never believe this now, but I used to look like Allison from The Breakfast Club in high school."

Another strange inspiration from the passing of John Hughes. Funny, it used to be that I worked out real life stuff with H:LOTS characters, but they would *pray* for a sudden heart attack, so:

"E, do you ever think about what happens when you die?"

E is not a morning person and once again marvels at his friend's ability to have two settings: completely off and completely on.Also, even though this thought's a little gay, Vince looks fantastic, without any effort whatsoever.

"Good morning to you, too, asshole. You have to stop just barging in here. I could be with somebody or something."

Although Vince doesn't mean anything by it, he smirks.

"I saw that, yeah, this one time you lucked out."

"Obviously. Good morning...so do you think about what happens when you die?"

"You know, Vince, although my mother would flip her shit to hear me say this, right now, life is too complicated for me to dwell on that...why do you have to hit me with something heavy first thing in the morning?"

"I couldn't sleep. And John Hughes."

If this room weren't the size of the whole apartment either of them grew up in, Eric realizes, they could be sleeping over in each other's places, twelve years old, trying to figure shit out.Vin always woke up ready to chat then, too."Remember the summer when all Drama wanted to do is audition and watch his "Pretty In Pink" tape...Dom came over to break his balls and Drama got out of it by telling him he saw Ringwald's nipple in it?"

"Your memory's always been better than mine, E. I try to travel light, you know?"

"You better remember me, if I go first. Or I swear I will haunt your skinny ass, Vince. Swear to God."

"Jeez, E, chill. I said I travel light, not, like, "Memento", okay?"

"Okay. So what do you think happens when you die...heaven and all that?"

"Not really...I think I get reincarnated and recycled...I might come back as a good person, an animal, or even a tomato plant."

"Bullshit, Vince," Eric had to laugh. "You would not be happy as a tomato plant. Girls don't fawn over tomato plants."

"Martha Stewart does."

"So, do you want to fuck Martha Stewart?"

"God, no. I think she'd grade me or something."

"I was gonna say."

"Maybe Rachel Ray, though...it's hot when they're enthusiastic."

"Vince, you need a new job, like, yesterday."

Ok, this picks up my House/Entourage story where I left it, and takes it into AU. I can't explain it, except maybe I like the idea of Johnny and Turtle Mr. Mom-ing it.
I think I'll start a new story about that, though.

SIX WEEKS LATER

"...I'm Lisa Cuddy, and this has been a Medical Minute."

Going on-camera still makes Lisa nervous, enough that there's always a tiny ripple in her stomach before and after, and she can't quite bring herself to admit that this has turned into more than temporary leave from PPTH. But she likes being able to confront medical misinformation, uh head-on, so to speak, and it's great after so many years alone, to have someone so great to come home to. But she still gets clutched when her line producer, Norman, motions for her to stay after she finishes taping.

"This isn't about the health-care commentary, is it?" Cuddy asks. "Because if I don't get to do it, I'm walking,Norman. Because..."

"You don't need this job. Mazel tov, darling. You're the only person in LA that doesn't. Mr. Murphy told me already...and Mr. Gold. Such a mouth on him. So, anyway, yeah, you're all set to talk single-pager on Friday."

"Single-payer...well, never mind. So, what's up, Norman?"
She is irrationally disappointed that her big House-a-like moment has come to nothing, but Norman started producing with Sid Caesar and has seen a lot of everything. Maybe House himself would only get that bored shrug that reminds Cuddy of her grandfather(and given what might be up hormone-wise, is already threatening to make her emotional as hell.)

There was an uncomfortable silence as Norman looked her up and down. "Look, Dr. Cuddy...this didn't come from me. I think you look terrific..."

"But?"

"Those assholes at the network have been telling me you've looked 'a little puffy' lately. But personally? I'm sick of stick girls."

"Thanks, Norman. I'm glad you've got my back."

For a moment, Lisa does nothing, feeling the confusion of a world in which the least life-altering option is menopause. Or some quick little surgical...something that she could ask Wilson for a referral and sneak back into New Jersey to correct. Or if it was only Drama's off-hour culinary training to blame,instead of the one time Vince pleaded with her to meet him in his trailer...but she can't turn down a miracle because it's not convenient.

She worries about Vince, though, and watches him sleep for two nights as if he's her baby, but she doesn't know what to tell him. He's not working...maybe he'll panic.(Just because he hasn't before...he's never been somebody's father before, either.) She supposed she knew it wasn't flop sweat that made her puke before all those broadcasts, but she'd been thinking like any other patient, all mystery and denial and crossed fingers...she was glad medical minute viewers couldn't see her now.

But she was happy. Very happy. Just *crazy* confused, as Turtle might say.

But there was no point in worrying till she knows. So she wakes early(Vince barely stirs as she tells him "Early call, sweetie,") and sneaks out to buy and take the test,which confirms the earth-shattering news that, G-d willing, she'd be giving birth to a little Chase, in the absence of all the thousands of gestational horrors she had to will herself not to think about. Which, she supposes, makes the first person she tells the craziest chioce of all, but she's never been any good at making girlfriends and, well, she's not sure why, but he's got to be the first.

"House, the stick's blue. I'm pregnant."

"Not it.I haven't touched you like that in decades, Lisa. Is the himbo psyched?"

"I haven't told him yet."

"I understand there's nothing like the moment when those vacant blue eyes look at you in wonder and those little hands grip your finger, but you tell him he has to make time for the baby, too, okay?"

"Shut up, House."