House looks up from his spot behind his desk as the door across the room opens and Wilson drops onto the couch. “The hospital board is announcing a service tomorrow in the chapel for anybody who can attend.” he says at House's raised eyebrow.

It had been a quiet week around the hospital ever since the death of Dr. Lisa Cuddy. She died accidentally when overseeing the creation of a second records room when a file cabinet, stuffed to the brim with memos she'd created since taking the job of running the hospital, fell on her accidentally.

“The police had to look through all that paperwork for their reports.” Wilson says from his spot on the couch. “Would you believe Cuddy kept copies of every memo she sent out? In triplicate? That's what was in that filing cabinet. And the most stupid stuff, trying to say how many paper towels and sheets of toilet paper could be used by any one person at any one time in any restroom at the hospital. The windows had to be washed in a circular counterclockwise motion.”

“I always knew that Cuddy was a control freak.” House mumbles, looking down at the small pile of reports he'd just worked on. “The woman kept nagging and nagging me to complete paperwork for every patient I saw at the clinic. I kept telling her, paperwork's going to be the death of me.”

“Instead, it turned out to be the death of her.” Wilson snorts. “You up for a beer?”