[House is puking into a bin]
Wilson: You idiot!
House: Okay, I admit it. I have bulimia. I look good, though, don't I?
Wilson: Heroin. Heroin?! House, of all the stupid...
House: I'm not on heroin.
Wilson: I just caught you with your fingers down your throat.
House: I'm on methadone. Stupid product, heroin without the high.
Wilson: Yea, and twice the risk of death.
House: No risk of arrest.
Wilson: You nearly died.
House: Today was a fluke, I nodded off.
Wilson: Right, you're safe as long as you never sleep again. Mistime your dose, you die. Couple of drinks, you die. Mix it with the wrong drugs, you die. You wanna detox from Vicodin, pick something that won't kill you.
House: I'm not detoxing.
Wilson: If you're looking for something to help with your pain...
House: Doesn't help my pain. It eliminates it.
[He throws his cane into a dumpster, and walks away]
House: My leg doesn't hurt anymore.
[House walks off into the distance without limping]
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