- "Wilson!" Wilson woke up freezing cold, realizing he had no blankets at all. "You need to call the guy. I've been telling you for a week to call the guy. We need a new heater!"
- Seven days with a broken heater, and six of those days Wilson had been woken up by House, the annoyingly sarcastic middle-aged son he never had. "House, where are my blankets?" "You can apperantly stand the freezing cold temperature of this appartment but I can't. So I took your blankets so that my ass doesn't end up frozen to your couch."
- Wilson sat up shivering. "So you took my beddings and added them to the five already on your bed?" Something in House looked guilty. "Do you know how much you sound like a housewife right now?" Wilson wasn't pleased. "Go get the blankets." House shrugged at Wilsons command. "I can't. We kinda ran out of wood for the fire so..."
- "HOUSE! You burned my bedding?! Are you insane? What were you thinking!?" House laughed at Wilsons anger. His plot was working. A week before, House purpously broke the heater. The next two days, he left a window opened when Wilson wasn't around so that it would be colder. The next day, he took everything out of the refridgerater to say, "It's colder here than in the fridge. Why do we need one again?" And yesterday, he buned all the firewood to finish off his plan to get out of Wilsons appartment.
- "You know what, House? I think it's time you moved back to your old appartment." He turned around and smiled. "OK, if you insist!" And with that, House got his way. Plus, he caused himself to get a cold, so he had a reason not to go to work for the next few days. Yay!