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You have a patient waiting. See?
I'm waiting for a follow-up.
If you're talking about Mr. Casdin,
he has a "deceased" sticker on his file,
as do all the other follow-ups you have scheduled for today.
Whoops.
I had colds all winter.
Well, I've been in this room awhile,
but it's spring now, right?
I feel run-down
like maybe something big is coming on.
Run-down. Come on, give me something.
Sore throat? - No.
Runny nose? - No.
I know it sounds weird, I'm a nurse,
but could you run maybe a CBC or thyroid up—
Dr. Cuddy, I need a consult.
Until she stops seizing, I may as well
go back to my office and get my diagnosis on.
She's urinating on herself.
She's having a seizure. If she hadn't peed—
It's green.
Interesting.
35-year-old woman.
Head of nursing at an old-age home.
Neurological symptoms and "P"?
Oh, green pee. I get it.
Nice.
"Neuro" is also written in green.
Does that mean she has green neurological symptoms as well?
From now on, I'm gonna use two colors.
Green indicates irony.
Pseudomonas infection.
She'd have a fever. Toxins?
Why are we taking this case?
Welcome, your lordship.
We were just preparing your morning briefing.
Sorry I'm late.
And, yes, green pee does meet
the only diagnostic requirement you care about—
It's interesting.
But is it worth us taking this case?
"Us" aren't taking anything.
I'm taking. You're accepting.
Okay, I accept.
She has adult-onset epilepsy,
and she really likes those St. Patrick's day beers.
Go check out the house and the office
for toxins and infections.
Her neuro exam was normal.
No subsequent seizures.
It's not life-threatening. It's not important.
Luckily neither are you.
You okay?
I'm fine.
You and House this morning,
the way you were arguing.
Airing disagreements doesn't qualify as arguing.
Come on, man.
I'm just trying to help. We're friends.
There are 400 Japanese teenagers
you were playing Halo with last night
you're better friends with.
Your avatar should ask their avatars
how they're doing.
I consider you a good friend
even if we don't hang that much outside work.
I wasn't arguing with him.
You kinda were.
Fine, I was.
And you know what, I was right.
You got conned.
Methylthioninium chloride.
Notable side effect, green urine.
She's a nurse. She knows the dosage.
Knows how to fake a seizure.
She pees pea soup and gets the warm attention of doctors
all week long.
She's a Munchausen, and you're her mark.
So you're insight is based on discovering
an anti-alzheimer's drug at an old-age home.
No good reason it'd be sitting in her desk.
You ever tried to pee on yourself in public?
It's not easy.
Sorry, I rushed the jewish frat.
We peed in private.
For good reason.
I can spot a fake seizure.
Which means this was real.
Which means her problem is phenol.
Carbolic acid?
Yeah, maybe she accidentally inhaled some
at a gout treatment facility circa 1890.
It's still in some antiseptic throat sprays.
She's been chugging it all winter for her colds.
Phenol explains the seizure and the urine.
She'd have to drink five bottles a day.
Which is why I'm sure you won't have trouble
discovering evidence of it when you search her house.
Bye.
And you can start her on charcoal hemoperfusion
for the phenol poisoning.
Seriously?
Oh, you were lying about the throat spray.
That does make more sense.
So why are you wasting Taub's time?
Because I don't want him to know that I'm
wasting my time disproving his fake seizure theory.
Zip.
Chris?
Chris Taub, right?
Neil Zane.
I was two years under you at Collegiate High, remember?
Sure.
So you're some big doctor here now?
I'm a doctor. You?
Well, I was speaking at an Econ course
over at the University.
I tripped and banged my leg.
I have some time.
Come with me.
Hi. Tests back?
Head CT was negative.
What about a thyroid uptake
or abdominal ultrasound?
Sure.
How 'bout I flash some lights in front of your face first?
You want me to have another seizure?
We're gonna have to give up the room
unless we can confirm a problem.
Okay.
Damn it.
Oh, God.
Please forgive me. I'm so sorry.
What are you worried about?
Maybe a night in jail for fraud.
I have to go tell one of my employees he was right.
I'm not a Munchausen.
I'm gonna die unless you help me.
You'll have to come up with something more original.
A cat predicted my death.
Cats make terrible doctors.
Oh, no, wait, that's women.
You're screwed.
How'd you slip?
Oh, I've had this dizziness problem for a while now.
You get checked for labyrinthitis?
On antibiotics for a week.
No difference.
Lie down a sec.
Whoa, whoa, I'm dizzy.
That's normal.
So what are you teaching?
Entrepreneurship.
I'm a CEO, Osttech Industries.
We make medical devices.
All right, you can sit up.
So did that tell you anything?
Did I—
Oh, my God.
The—you just cured me.
I figured you had a tiny calcium deposit
in your inner ear; I just shifted it around.
I've seen three doctors for this.
I'm buying you dinner.
Forget it. - Come on.
I'm also in investor in a club.
We'll make it a night out.
No, I'm married, boring.
I know some married people who aren't boring.
A few years back,
I was one of them.
Good luck.
If you're gonna kill me and rape me,
please do it in that order.
This is the cat, Debbie. Have you heard of her?
Debbie.
Sorry but without a last name—
She was in the news.
We found her as a kitten. She lives in the nursing home.
She only sleeps next to people when they're about to die.
Ten patients in the last year.
And then yesterday she did it to me
while I was sitting on my couch.
Please, the whole staff, the doctors even,
we all know this is real.
Can you come back later?
I have some business I'm conducting
with the Prince of Nigeria.
Just watch this video.
It'll prove I'm not lying.
Dr. House, I'm begging you.
Chest.
Quick!
Before she goes without attention for eight seconds.
House.
She's faking. The cat told me.
Listen.
Soft breath sounds.
Means it's bronchospasm.
Can't fake that.
When Debbie climbs on a patient's bed
and goes to sleep,
we call the loved ones and tell them to come in.
You want to treat her?
She's a nutjob.
Don't we all have quirks?
Aren't those eccentricities what make us human?
It's like Debbie's here on earth
to bring people to the other side.
Also agreed is the cat does seem—
Nutjobs get sick too.
So you think this cat story is nonsense.
And you admit she faked her earlier symptoms.
But you still think she's actually sick now?
Well, anything would sound ridiculous
If you said it in that voice.
Confirm she's faking
or I'm gonna have to kick her out.
There's that voice again.
I'll give you 24 hours.
Consecutive?
What are you doing?
No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to die.
Bronchospasm, go.
Bronchitis.
No cough, no fever.
And Blofeld didn't smoke a cigar.
He might have.
Dude had a lair. Means he was rich.
Rich people enjoy a good stogie.
Sometimes send them as gifts.
Hey, Taub, did that sound like I was awkwardly
trying to segue into making a point?
Yes.
Emphysema.
Lungs were clean on the CT.
Dogs can be trained to predict diabetic comas,
epileptic seizures; they can smell cancer.
It is possible there's something in this cat.
It's more possible that it was just a coincidence.
10 million nursing homes. 100 million pet cats.
One of them was bound to pick a few winners.
Debbie was able to predict there was something wrong
with the patient before you were.
Is that a coincidence too?
Maybe the cat didn't predict anything.
Might have caused the deaths.
We shoulda listened to Ted Nugent.
Yeah, it could be cat scratch fever
or visceral larva migrans.
Maybe he didn't kill everyone at the nursing home,
but it may be killing Morgan.
The worms hop from the cat to the cat lady's lungs.
I could buy that.
Those cigars were for me.
Hey, that reminds me, why is some fancy CEO
sending you a box of Cuban cigars?
Is it related to your money worries?
What money worries?
Extrapolating from the fact
that he's been skipping his morning muffin,
I'd say that he lost almost all his money
on the market last year.
I'm on a diet.
I'm also extrapolating from the online portfolio
you forgot to log off, but it's mostly the muffins.
Scope her for worms in the lungs.
We could help out in there.
Yeah, it takes at least four people
to look inside a crazy woman's lungs
for imaginary worms.
So you're in a good mood again.
You need another speech
about what a great friend I am?
I'm telling my wife we don't need to downsize,
but maybe we do.
You really lost all that money?
I don't care about the money. I just feel bad for Rachel.
She married a guy in one situation
and ended up with another; that's hard on anyone.
Thanks.
Makes me feel much better hearing my wife's a gold digger.
No, I just meant she married this master of the universe,
successful surgeon, and now he's basically,
you know, a flunky for this mad scientist...
who saves lives, so that's good.
There are no worms in the lungs.
What else could cause bronchospasm?
Severe acid reflux.
No esophagitis. It's not reflux.
Why are you pushing a crash cart?
Because patients sometimes crash.
And they haven't yet invented a crash tractor
for me to drive wildly around the hallways.
Why are we in the coma patients' room?
You actually think the cat is going to predict
someone's death?
No, I know the cat the not going to predict
anyone's death.
Then I will have scientifically disproved—
You didn't keep this patient despite the cat.
You kept this patient because of the cat.
You're scared there's something to it.
If I could prove
the non-existence of an omniscient God
who lovingly guides us to the other side, I would.
Cat version's gonna have to do.
Are you scared?
Cats brains are always in alpha mode.
The few scientific tests
that have seemed to confirm physic phenomena,
that's where it takes place.
Please tell me that you were kidding
so I won't have to fire you.
I was kidding.
We still have a human patient, right?
Airborne allergens possible?
Skin test was negative. - Lungs may be more sensitive.
Or House just screwed up.
If you misinterpreted the breath sounds
as soft instead of loud,
it's laryngospasm instead of bronchospasm,
which you can get from a simple panic attack,
which she was having.
I also heard the lung sounds too, Taub.
You saying I screwed up?
"Screwed up" is maybe too harsh, but yes.
Don't you want to check their charts?
Of course not.
This is a double-blind.
I don't want to even subconsciously signal
to Teddy which one's the sickest.
Her name's Debbie.
Are those welts on that guy's arm?
Were they here when we got here?
He has a severe cat allergy.
That never happened.
Look at Debbie.
Good news,
Mister... Limpert,
when you don't die tonight
you will finally have done something good for the world
as opposed to your life as a...
fireman.
Foreman's airborne allergen theory makes the most sense.
Do a methacholine challenge on catgirl to check it out.
I told you to get rid of "death cat".
Do you see a cat?
I see a litter box.
This is a disability, Dr. Cuddy.
Can't make it to the men's room on time.
You pee on the mice too?
Well, now you see the mice actually prove
that I don't have a cat.
Are these—
are these the genetically modified lab mice
from oncology?
Genetically modified for tastiness.
Get rid of the cat,
and get rid of your patient.
My team's doing a methacholine challenge.
Your team just completed a methacholine challenge,
which came up negative.
Who told you about the test?
Taub?
I'll never say, but yes.
Her airways clamped down. I heard it.
We kick her onto the street, it could happen again.
I wish there was a lawsuit cat. It could warn you.
I'm sorry, but if you won't escort her out,
I'll have to get security to do it.
I don't smoke.
Fine.
If you don't want the seventh graders
to think you're cool.
I went through your purse.
Horoscopes. Good luck charms.
You went to a good college, good nursing school.
So you weren't always a superstitious idiot.
I'm not a super—
How 'bout four years,
that sound right?
That's when you switched from a family insurance plan
to the one you're on now.
I was married. I got divorced.
Two years before that,
you got chicken pox shots,
which you only get in adulthood when you have a kid.
Or I should say when you had a kid
because no kid has come to visit you.
Which all makes me think something bad happened.
It was my stepson, Timothy.
What happened?
He was in school.
He was having his morning snack.
And he choked.
And the teacher saw it,
and they did everything that they were supposed to.
He shouldn't have died.
You want to make it make sense.
What's wrong with that?
It's meaningless, is what's wrong.
What's wrong is that it doesn't do a thing
to bring your kid back
or put you and your ex together again.
Rash on your neck.
Probably not enough for Cuddy.
I can't breathe.
Hey, doc.
Breath sound soft to you, doc?
Hooray! You're officially sick.
Churg-Strauss fits best.
Here's the plan—
Taub, you change the litter box.
This is pathetic.
You're still punishing me for calling you out
on the green urine lady?
Nope, this is for ratting me out to Cuddy.
I'm not asking you to apologize,
just scoop some poop out of a box.
Just clean it.
Let House do it.
Yeah, that'll happen.
He won't just continue to let our room smell like cat pee.
I'll clean it next time.
I'm outta here.
Now that you've delivered that important lesson,
I'm gonna go test the patient.
Whoa!
What, you think your bag's gonna die now?
Now you're punishing me
because you think I'm superstitious?
What do you care?
It's not so much about me caring per se.
It's more about me wondering why you're such
a credulous idiot.
Thirteen, start the patient on steroids
for the Churg-Strauss.
Unless we have something we need to argue about.
This is good stuff.
The best.
It's made from the distilled sweat
of recently laid-off hedge fund managers.
Aren't you happy you came out tonight?
Yeah.
I wasn't actually going to,
but not the greatest day at work.
I used to have an office like this.
Used to?
When I was a plastic surgeon.
But one day I took stock of my life and—
Screw it.
I had an affair with the daughter of one of my partners.
They signed a non-disclosure. I signed a non-compete.
And the funny thing is
I wound up telling my wife anyway.
You like your job?
Same as you. Same as everyone.
It has its ups and downs.
You're lying to make me feel better.
Yeah, it's the best.
I'm in charge, you know?
I'm a kid with toys.
Speaking of which,
what do you think of the prototype?
It's amazing.
Gotta make it a half-inch smaller though.
You serious?
I got small hands, 6.5 gloves, like women surgeons,
which are your fastest-growing market.
Meaning the girls would have to use two hands
to hit the switch.
Why do I bother paying the idiots that work for me?
Put down that crap you're drinking,
because I am breaking out the really good stuff.
What's wrong?
I went to the bathroom. My urine—
Green again?
It's brown.
I didn't do anything, honest.
It is possible she's still faking.
She didn't fake the for the bronchospasm.
You think she's faking some stuff but not other stuff?
Maybe she's "Unchausen".
I'm just saying the brown urine doesn't make sense.
What?
Nothing.
We've ruled out every possible cause for brown urine.
No blood in the urine.
Liver and kidneys fine.
Brown could be fecal. A fistula—
We checked.
How do we know the urine is still brown?
Had to be.
Once you've gone brown—
If we've ruled out
Everything that can make the urine brown,
what if it just looked brown?
If the green dye never left her system,
what plus green makes brown?
Purple.
Strep Bovis infection from colon cancer.
Paraneoplastic syndrome would explain the bronchospasm.
We scoped her when we checked for the fistula.
There's no tumor.
Oh, no.
I wasn't scared by the umbrella either.
What?
Not everything's about you, Kutner.
I realize it's stupid.
I just— I don't know everything.
I don't want to invite—
Great, 'cause I thought your superstitiousness
had to do with your folks being killed.
But "you're stupid" works just as well.
Why is there a ladder here?
Oops.
Forgot that one.
Scopes don't work as well as pillcams.
Give her one. Find the tumor.
Come with me, Tiny Taub.
Come on.
Sorry I was late again.
I've got a long commute from the poor house.
Knew it when I hired you.
You'd eventually miss the money,
being the big shot like your new CEO friend,
if that nightclub stamp on your hand
is any indication.
Don't worry, I'm not quitting.
I know.
Guy who signs a non-compete
instead of just telling his wife that he cheated
doesn't have the guts to quit.
Bad example. I did tell her.
From guilt, not from courage.
And bravely running to Cuddy behind my back.
Arriving heroically to work every day.
Cowards make lousy employees.
Maybe you're a coward, maybe you're quitting.
Either way, I'm screwed.
You will note how faster pussycat kill, kill
has snuggled up by coma guy over there.
And more importantly, she did yesterday as well.
And he's still breathing.
We done?
Thank you for showing me this.
But maybe she's just confused in this new environment.
In 1844, a preacher in upstate New York
added up some dates in the bible
and predicted Jesus' return.
His followers gave away all their possessions
and showed up in a field.
Guess who didn't show.
So the preacher said that he miscalculated,
and they went right back the next month
but with more followers.
Every time he was irrefutably proved wrong,
it redoubled everyone's belief.
I know I sound just like them.
But I also know you're wrong.
Something terrible's gonna happen to me.
You trying to prove to her she's not dying?
That would be dumb, as she might be dying.
This woman lost her kid.
Why are you attacking beliefs
that give her a little bit of comfort?
I don't care if her superstitions
make her feel better.
I just want her to think more clearly.
Oh, maybe that could make her as happy as you are.
Where are we going?
Experimenting.
Stop it, Dr. Wilson. It's just not cute anymore.
You already experimented on the coma guy.
Haven't you proved your point?
Not to the patient.
And not to the millions of idiots who drooled
over that news item about the magic cat.
Why are you so obsessed with this?
Can't you just call her an idiot and leave everyone alone?
Hey, look, kids, therapy cat.
You're a liar.
Therapy animals are dogs, not cats.
Aren't you feisty?
This one's special.
If she likes you, interesting stuff happens.
Uh, kids, playtime's over.
You know what, this is a good thing.
Because either you're starting to doubt yourself,
which is healthy, or—
I don't believe in the legend of good-bye kitty.
Or you're starting to give a crap what other people think,
which is just another way of saying you give a crap
about other people.
I'd love to hear more of your theory,
but I don't give a crap.
Also the pillcam's back.
Polypoid.
Raised edges.
Raised edges are actually necessary,
since that's the opening to the appendix.
How many times are we gonna watch this?
There's no tumor.
Oh, my God.
The death cat is attacking your legs.
You're gonna die.
Maybe it has something to do with that little red dot
dancing around down there.
Oh, my God, the death laser is attacking your legs.
You're gonna die.
We're wasting time looking for cancer.
She's still walking around.
She's still pretty healthy.
Maybe it's something minor.
Maybe we're not wasting time.
We wouldn't have seen a flat lesion.
Skin cancer could have metastasized to the intestines.
Cool.
Check for melanomas.
Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.
Come here.
Here, kitty.
What? - It's not cancer.
We found spider veins on her back.
They weren't there when she came in.
Spider veins means Cushing's.
Could cause an abdominal disturbance,
brown urine—
But the bronchospasm?
Cushing's myopathy.
It's uncommon but—
Wait a second.
You didn't wake me up to tell me a symptom
that's not killing her.
What else is going on?
I think she's dying.
I just told you it's Cushing's.
I don't mean because of the spider veins.
Mr. Limpert died.
If that's my high school gym teacher—
It's your coma patient.
He was stable for a year and a half,
and he just died.
The cat was right, House.
Here, puss, puss, puss, puss, puss.
Say "puss" one more time.
It's the sixth "puss" that really does it.
You're right.
Sulking will solve everything.
That cat sat on my lap, and that cat knows something.
You believe it now?
Yesterday it was all a coincidence.
Yesterday it was
until I unintentionally proved it wasn't.
Patient must have Cushing's.
We have to figure out whether it's—
Cat's nose is powerful.
It could smell liver or kidney failure.
Exactly, except if you'd glanced
at the nursing home files I had faxed over this morning,
you'd know that most of the patients'
livers and kidneys were fine; what else?
MRIs aren't telling us if the Cushing's
in her adrenals or her brain.
So check her A.C.T.H.
A cat's vision is at the blue end of the spectrum.
A.C.T.H. is 11.7.
It's too close to tell.
We can't treat the wrong organ
'cause that won't solve anything.
She could have a cortisol storm, could kill her.
Well, maybe as the senior fellow
you could have made sure that my doors were closed,
so that I could be concentrating on the cat
instead of looking for the cat.
You all right?
Your nose.
What'd he say?
Sounds like he said,
"Do you like cranberry juice?"
Crap.
Cheaper than fake blood.
And more cran-tastic.
Don't ever leave my door open like that again.
You're playing pranks, and this woman could be dying.
So have chase do a venous sampling
in her brain.
If he finds something, it's there.
If he finds nothing, it's the adrenals.
I'm not who I used to be.
I'm scared.
That's not a way to live.
I want to come work for you.
Jeez, Chris, you didn't think—
I didn't mean to imply that I could hire you right now.
You said you needed guys like me.
I know, but you don't have an MBA.
And I just hired a Chief Medical Officer.
Let me invest in that laser scalpel start-up.
I got money saved. Not a ton but—
We put in a $2 million minimum
for the first round financing.
Look, I guess I could take you on at a smaller number.
But you have to understand,
it wouldn't be some quick payoff.
I know, I know it's not gonna change my life overnight.
I just need to start changing it.
Okay, then let's start.
What exactly are you hoping to find
inside your dead coma guy?
Catnip. Chew toy.
I don't know. That's why I'm looking.
Your patient had cardiac arrest
during the venous sampling.
We got her back, but her heart's still tenuous.
That tell us anything?
She's weak, possibly dying.
So nothing. What about the A.C.T.H.?
Slightly elevated.
That confirms the Cushing's is in the brain—go.
Are you sure that it's Cushing's?
You'd expect central body obesity.
She's in good shape.
If it had a normal presentation,
there wouldn't be a cat involved.
So it's the brain.
That means the next question is whether to remove
the pituitary right now—
That's not a question for me.
That's a question for the patient.
You'll present both sides and let her decide.
All right.
I've gotta stop telling you my theories.
You always just try to prove me wrong.
You mean the theory about Cuddy's ass
getting bigger at the full moon?
I confirmed that one.
Photo's on my blog.
Normally, you'd be up in the patient room
hectoring her on what to do.
Instead you're up to your elbows
in some irrelevant dead guy who may or may not be
connected to a magic cat
because you want to prove to me that you don't care.
Case is over.
I'm exploring a scientific mystery.
I put up with your obsessions.
I even encourage them, for one reason—
They save lives.
I don't know what you're doing now.
Cushing's means your body's
overproducing a hormone called cortisol.
The recommended course of action
is to suppress it with drugs.
And that will cure it?
Just treat it.
It could come back.
The only permanent solution
is to cut into your brain and remove your pituitary gland,
but the surgery's dangerous.
Your heart stopped on the table once already.
I want the surgery.
This thing is gonna kill me if I don't kill it first.
Because of the cat?
Do you want to tell me what an idiot I'm being?
No.
I really believe that there are things
that science can't understand,
that there is a role for faith and prayer,
but it's in the waiting room,
not the O.R.
There's a reason I got sick.
There's a reason for all the bad things
that have happened to me.
I don't know what that reason is,
but I know that if there isn't one,
if there's no greater purpose in the world,
then it's not a world I want to live in.
I'll schedule an operating room.
Early.
I'm not staying long. I'm quitting.
You got a new job?
No.
Well, then you're not quitting.
See you back here tomorrow.
You're not accepting my resignation?
Easier this way.
It voids the whole thing where you panic,
run back and grovel, and I punish you
and then take you back.
Bye.
Bring donuts.
Everyone loves those bear claws.
Here, puss, puss, puss, puss, puss.
Puss?
Mr. Taub.
I've been waiting 15 minutes. Where's Neil?
Neil doesn't work here anymore.
He's the CEO.
I'm sorry. I wish I could help you.
Sorry.
This is crazy.
I'm investing with his company.
He doesn't have a company.
He worked here, but he was a receptionist, a temp.
Where is he? - He's in custody.
I really am not supposed to say anything else.
I went to high school with him.
That's what everyone else thought too.
I'm guessing you also cured his ear problem.
Did you give him the money yet?
No.
I was right.
And more satisfyingly, you were wrong.
It was a coincidence.
The cat was not predicting deaths.
It was just trying to keep warm.
Yes, dead people
are renowned for their warm glow.
They are if they're feverish,
like three of the patients were.
Or if they're wasting away, like the other eight.
Wasting doesn't— - Yeah, it does.
If it means someone sticks a heating blanket on you.
Congrats.
Because of your crazy obsession with this cat,
you've solved a completely trivial mystery.
Completely trivial?
My God.
It's clearly only partially trivial.
Debbie climbed on Morgan too,
which means she was overheated.
So what causes flushing and mimics every Cushing's symptom
except central body obesity?
Cancer.
A corticotropin-producing carcinoid tumor
of the intestine.
But your pillcam didn't find anything.
Means it must be somewhere the pillcam couldn't go.
The appendix.
Congratulations, you probably saved her life.
You definitely saved her needless surgery.
Yes, I did.
What's the O.R. extension number?
Just curious.
Thank you.
I wouldn't come here for thanks.
That would be ungracious.
It's more about gloating.
You were about to cut out a piece of your brain
just to chase some crazy superstition.
But I didn't.
You "didn't" didn't do anything.
I stopped it.
And what made you do that?
Science, logic, reason.
Pick any three.
A cat chooses that exact moment
to sit on your computer.
Maybe that's science and logic and reason
or maybe it's something else.
You're an idiot.
I looked up the preacher from New York state.
His followers never faded out.
They became the Seventh-Day Adventists,
a major religion.
That man changed the course of history.
Because his followers were as deluded as he was.
Maybe he just gave them something to live for.
Feel better.
Kutner!
Cat pee on my chair?
Blood on my face?
Fake blood.
You pay for the dry cleaning.
Why are you still alive?
I'm not sure.
I guess he was impressed you stood up to him.
And got a cat to pee on his chair.
Yeah. A cat.
See you tomorrow. - Yeah.
Subtitles by LeapinLar