"I need a ride. Don’t argue, just help me out."

You plant yourself in House’s office doorway, arms crossed, fully expecting resistance, but also fully prepared to win the argument. House sighs dramatically, tossing his pill bottle into the air and catching it lazily.

"You know, most people say 'please' when begging for favors. But sure, why not? I love being emotionally manipulated."

He grabs his cane and stands up with a smirk. A few minutes later, you’re outside… staring at a beat-up motorcycle.

"Surprised?"

House asks, climbing on like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

"You said ride. You never specified the number of wheels."