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."

Gestation a House/Entourage AU starting after Queens Boulevard

"So, are you,like, absolutely sure?"He was cute, as always, but Cuddy found herself hoping their child would inherit her ability with language.Although it was crazy to think movie-star teenspeak would be inheritable, wasn't it?

"I am a doctor, Vincent. And I took a few extra tests to make sure. Absolutely."She found herself leaning on that last word and she wondered if the hormones were making her bitchy already. Luckily Vince was sort of immune to subtext. At least of the non-erotic variety.

"Yeah, I know. Stupid question..But I had to ask, right? It's the first thing E's gonna say, for one. But I should have known you'd think of everything...how many extra tests?"

There was no way to make this sound casual, but Lisa still tried. "Oh, not that many...just four.
"

"Four?" He sounded amused rather than offended. Lisa hoped the baby got that, too.But her eyebrows.

"Well, I had to be sure...just three store tests and then I checked with one of my...girls at Cedars."

"Oh, great...you should just take out an ad on TMZ. and you know they hate me, anyway."

"Not unless they have a reason to look for Daisy Buchanan's pregnancy test."

"Who's she?"

"Me. And a character in The Great Gatsby...English, tenth grade?"

"Robert Redford's in the movie, right?"

"Yeah...don't tell me you got hand-jobs from your English teacher, too!"

"No, just Spanish. She still sends me Christmas cards. So, should I start rounding up pickles and ice cream now?"

"No...great as that thought is, sweetie, I think I should let things mellow out in there right now."

"Sure, but say the word and it's yours...Drama'll be at fuckin' defcon 7 making you eat your veggies and shit, Lisa. It'll work out."

Oy. Drama. Lisa took a deep breath. At least with Drama in and out, there would be someone else around who knew that "folic acid" wasn't an Eastern bloc NBA prospect. And he would try his damnedest to be helpful at all times. But the fact remained that Cuddy would have a shadow with a deep-seated wish for calf implants.

This was a thought that already had the potential to make her wake up screaming. Lisa took a last sip of water and put the empty glass down with a clatter in the sudden silence. She reached for some unused store of working-with-House diplomacy and said "It's okay with me if you don't want to tell Drama right away. I know he's stressing about the auditions and all that. I don't want to put him out."

"Not tell him? Oh, he'll be glad to be an Uncle...check it out. Uncle Drama. Unless you think he'll be all weird about feeling old and all of his 'dust in the wind' emo crap."

"Could be," Lisa suggested, and hated herself. But she needed at least a week before hearing all his theories about pregnancies in many lands or reading to her belly in French, or whatever Drama-thing he would come up with.

Seriously, I can't decide if this is really awesome, or should come with a warning for diabetics

"E, say something." Vince studied his closest friend's face. "Or, you know, blink. You've got a serious Madame Tussaud's thing going on right now."

"Remember that article, Vin, where you said you felt like two different people...Vinny Chase from the neighborhood, and Vincent Chase, movie star? At the time, Vin, I gotta tell you, I didn't get it."

"You told me you did."

"Vince, I tell you a lot of shit...what, was that the one time you listened? Anyway, I get it now. Because as happy as E, your friend, wants to be, that is, if you're happy..being as how this is unexpected and all that..."

"Life is unexpected, E." And for the first time in months, Eric couldn't meet Lisa's eye, as he'd become accustomed to doing whenever the actor had one of his more groundless flights of optimism. He was afraid of what he might find there, either way. For he *had* counted on her to be one of the few people he talked to every day to remember what life was like Out There, he supposed it would be wrong for Lisa to start growing a new life with "Can you believe this guy?"-face.

"Well, okay then,"E. said. "E. from Queens is happy for you both, though having his 'brother' start making babies is making him feel older than fuck, to be honest."

"Don't blame that on me," Vince said. "You always were a worrywart. Born old."

"Like you didn't put years on me, you prettyboy fuck."

"Like you haven't loved every minute of it."

"Actually, I did. For most of the time not immediately post- Mandy, sure, but that isn't stopping Eric Murphy, rookie TV producer, from quietly shitting a brick about Medical Minute,Vin. This wasn't supposed to happen...why aren't you flipping out more than me? Your life's gonna *change*, Vince. I'm just going to be neurotic Uncle E that used to make a TV show, but you do know, Vin, that once you have a baby with a woman, even you, the luckiest, most charming, asshole that ever lived(and I say that with love) will not be able to send her off with a kiss and a consolation prize."

"It'll be fine...you know why? Because I keep thinking of other things that aren't supposed to happen. Like a guy from Queens becoming a frickin' movie star, and his friend leaving the food court in the mall for a career in entertainment management and television production. Lisa loves Medical Minute...she wants to keep doing it."

"One day, you're gonna have to stop playing the Sbarro's card, Vince."

"I'll do it until you stop responding to it, E. Which should probably keep it safe for about...fifty years. You are just too easy. Pizza boy."

"Great, if you want to sound like Ari."

"Below the belt, E. Not cool."

"That's what she said...you smell different."

"I don't know about you, E. Sniffing other guys. But if you must know, my aftershave makes Lisa yak. I had to stop wearing it to have a hope of getting close to her...that was hard not to take personal...especially learning it the hard way."

"Euw...Vince," Suddenly E. was reminded of when he learned that his friend had stuck his tongue in a girl's mouth.And the girl hadn't seemed to mind.

"I second that emotion, brother. Not where she can hear me, of course...shit, I guess I can act, after all. How about that?"

"Yeah, Vince...how about that?"

"P.S 184 forever, right?"

"Yeah."

"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?"

One of the all time great lines.

Sometimes it scares me that I could get in House's head. Thank you. Even though I, personally, love Vince Chase and think he's a lot deeper than he looks, I have to concede that he'd pretty much have to be. It's fun coming up with those burns though, because the Entourage-verse kind of rolls over for Vin, and if it doesn't, those are bad guys. Personally, I think Vince needs a Snape, if you'll follow me. Somebody who's on his side, but still makes it kind of hard for him for some sort of personal reason. If I've had one, it wouldn't be weird for a huge movie star to have one, right?

The whole hospital thing in House last week made me think of another show with a (possibly) crazy character. House/Cupid1.0

With some difficulty, House ducked Alvy in the dining hall, though his bipolar roommate was the closest to a human equivalent to Julie Wilson's barky dog that House had ever seen.As he limped by, he heard the phrase "thinks he's stupid," and congratulated the unseen bearer of the sentiment on his apparent discernment. As the overheard chat between doctor and social worker went on, House heard "Mount Olympus" "wood nymphs" and an impressive display of graphic sexual acts.Oh, House thought, he thinks he's *cupid*

The blonde social worker argued with Cupid. "Now, Mr. Hale...we've talked about your sitting on the tables...is that appropriate use of hospital furniture?"

House rolled his eyes. The minor deity appeared not to notice. "Hey, I'm Trevor Hale...I'm inappropriate. Not half as much as if I had her spread-eagled on top of it...you know what I mean?"

"Greg House...doctor, addict, and master manipulator." The men shook hands.

"Hey, that's cool...I've worked with brainy guys before. And might I add that's a nice metaphor you've got there."

"That's what she said."

"Funny...I like it. And the ladies do too. Unless your interests lie elsewhere..."

"They definitely do not."

"Really? Because I may not look like it in yet another cuckoo's nest, man, but I've been at this for a long time, and you do sort of give off a bi vibe...of course, who doesn't when the right centaur comes along...this culture over-politicizes Eros...it's horrible." He bounded off the table.

"You don't seem to have a problem with it."

"I go back thousands of years...it gives you mad perspective as well as more fig-leaved tchotchkes than you can shake a stick at, doc. But there's nothing betwen me and Honeypants, MSW except a mutual migraine, I swear. If you've lost the on-ramp to passion, she's not even looking at the same map. But I do like to screw with her in the non-naked sense...now, it's much more fun to be crazy in Chicago."

"I know this one...it has something to do with that baseball team that loses all the time, right?"

"Hey, ease up on the Cubbies. But, no, even though half their hitters had romantic setbacks last year, baseball is only part of it..part of it is my last doctor, Claire.She was dark and lovely, and a total pain in my ass."

"I might know the type."

"Then you feel my pain."

"I didn't say that. Do I look like Oprah? Or Bill Clinton?"

"A little, around the eyes...I'm just fucking with you."

"I never would have guessed."House replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, you know, look where we are. I figure my worst problem isn't over-exposition."

House shrugged. "I have to go make a spleen in crafts. When I get back, we can talk about how your devotion to a losing franchise isn't rational and, that, statistically, you'd be happier as a Yankee fan."

"Argh...moneyball?! I'd rather die first. That is, if I could die, being immortal. And when are you medical types going to learn that being happy isn't measured by statistics?"

"You really can't die?"

"No. I'm a god. Like "Deus ex machina' without the machina. You're a genius; keep up." Trevor's tone was elaborately patient.

"Bummer. Because if you can't die, where's your incentive to do things. Like stop eating jello in your bathrobe and..."

"Well, you know what the poet said 'Only God can make a spleen' And, you know, right this minute, it's kind of hard to tell you busted ass at Johns Hopkins."

"Stop reading my file. You know, I could report you for that."

"You wouldn't though, I can tell."