"Ladies and Gentlemen, for the first time in the five years we've been running this Challenge we have a winner!" Roy raised took hold of Wilson's shaking hand, "Wilson!" The crowd roared even harder at this point, elated that the Chuckout had finally been beaten, and hysterical after seeing Wilson vomit all over House straight after.
Wilson was led over to wall, handed a certificate and T-shirt both of which he gripped clumsily and tried not to dribble on. Next his photo was taken with a old Polaroid camera and his picture was the first to be placed upon 'the wall', a place where all the faces of the winners would end up. Right now it looked like some sort of weird shrine to him, his being the only face present.
A warm feeling flooded through Wilson, something which at first he believed to be the feeling of success, but then he realised was simply an overwhelming urge to relieve himself. He scanned the room for House, but he was nowhere to be seen, not that it mattered much - he could simply search for House after he had concluded his business. Drunkenly, he made his way across the room, avoiding offers from people who wanted to buy him a drink. He felt a bit rude at ignoring them so, but he was a hero to them and heroes didn't need manners. Besides, he really needed to pee.
Eventually he reached the bathroom, gaining the addition of a few bruises along the way as slipped and slid his way across the tiled floor to the urinal. The sound of retching filled the room as Wilson unzipped himself. He peered behind himself, and saw the bottom half of House poking out of a cubical. It seemed he also needed to vacate the contents of the Chuckout. That, or Wilson's puke was causing an involuntary response.
When they had both finished relieving themselves, they stumbled out together and tried to find a quiet table to no success. Wherever they went they were followed by a mob of people, all wanting to speak to the man who had become their hero and his best friend. They spent the rest of the day there, talking and joking with some of the bar’s most veteran patrons and, in spite of their nearly already knockout levels of alcohol, drinking.
By closing time, the pair of them were so drunk that they had to be carried out by the mob of admirers, who dropped them on the street outside as they dispersed. These two may have been their heroes, but it was cold and they all had homes to get back to. With no hotel within a safe distance (not that they would be allowed to stay, given the state they were in), they decided to stay in the alleyway behind the bar. Well, that's where they ended up at least. It was cold, but given the state of the town it was most likely safe. They quickly passed out from alcohol and exhaustion.
Wilson awoke to a world of pain as sunlight scorched his eyes. His hangover beat his head like a jackhammer and his throat felt like someone had scraped it with sandpaper. He tried to climb to his feet but his head swam from the sudden movement and before he knew it he was lying on the ground again. The landing was less severe than he expected, he was certain he had fallen asleep on the concrete behind a pub last night. And yet, he felt something soft beneath him, almost like grass.
He turned his head to look and found his neck was stiff from sleeping on the ground. Eventually he managed it and was no longer looking at a clear blue sunny sky, but what looked like a garden, complete with a hedge maze and some statues. Wilson tried to shout out, "House!" but nothing more than slight whisper came from his aching throat. He was certain this had something to do with his best friend. He didn't know how, but everything that involved waking up somewhere different than where he went to sleep had to involve House. That man was a master of pranks. Then again, Wilson often got a few good shots back at him. Like the guitar prank - kidnapping his friend's vintage Fender Stratocaster and slowly torturing him by sending him look-a-like bits in the mail. Wilson kept that up for days on end until he hired a new team. That had been a cruel prank, but boy, the look of fear on House's face brought a rush to him when he noticed the guitar was missing.
He shook his head, now was not the time to reminisce old times. Now was the time to get out of this latest prank so he could play one of his own back, and have a laugh with his friend. Slowly this time, far more slowly than before, he tried to get to his feet. He succeeded without his head swimming, but found his balance was way off and began to fall over. He managed to throw himself forward this time and land on all fours so he didn't have to start from scratch.
Strangely this didn't feel as odd as it usually did, he found the position rather comfortable and noticed that somehow his chest wasn't touching the ground. Alright, he had to admit this was strange, but it was probably just a response to whatever drug House had slipped him last night. That, or chili and beer should never, ever be mixed.
Slowly Wilson turned himself around, careful to not move too quickly and to keep his head low, he may need to escape but he didn't want to aggravate his hangover. As he turned, he would have believed he was dreaming if it wasn't for the pain he was experiencing. Behind where he was lying before was a very large castle which looked like something from a fairy tale, it even came complete with all the useless spires and towers which never would have made sense on a real life castle. Now this, this was crazy, he didn't know anywhere in America that had something like this. Was it possible that he wasn't in America anymore? On that note, exactly how long had he been out? It would certainly be possible, if somewhat difficult for House to keep him drugged for an extended period of time.
Somehow he doubted it however, it wasn't House's style to pull extended pranks, not one this big. Besides, he was officially dead, it would be nigh on impossible for him to pull a stunt like this off. Speechless, not that speaking would help him, Wilson crawled around the edge of the castle, hopeful that he could find someone to help him - and who could tell him where on earth he was.
A few minutes of slow crawling later, he noticed an exit to the garden and could just make out the regular sound of well organized clopping, it seemed that someone was out horse riding. Good, maybe it was someone that would be able to help him. His crawling increased in pace as he urged himself towards the exit, quelling a rising headache as he got closer to the source of the clopping. As he reached the exit, he felt his arms slip and he went sprawling out of the garden onto a paved road of some sort. He closed his eye and drew his arms to his face, expecting to be trampled by horse and rider as they saw him too late.
After a moment he heard what appeared to be a tapping foot of impatience yet he hadn't heard the rider dismount. It wasn't that big of an issue however, he was just glad the rider had stopped in time. He opened his eyes and raised his head to meet the horse rider, only to almost burst out laughing. He wasn't looking at a rider, but instead a brightly colored horse. Wait, scratch that, it was too small to be a horse. A pony then. A second later he couldn't contain his laughter any longer and burst out in hysterical laughter as the pony appeared to talk.
"What do we have here? An intruder in the Princesses’ royal garden? You're coming with me." He fixed Wilson with his sternest gaze yet the laughter did not relent. The pony moved closer and could smell the sheer reek of alcohol pouring from his mouth. "You've been drinking heavily, haven't you? No matter..."
Wilson was so busy laughing he didn't notice a soft green glow build around him, nor the fact he had left the floor and was being carried away mid air. "I think a day in a cell and some questions are in order for you." The pony said as he carried Wilson down the road into a nearby city.
Authors note: Well that's the first two chapters of this story finished so far, really proud of this writing and hope you guys enjoy it. Will take this time now to ask you to have a look at some of my other stories if you liked this. I'd also like to say I'm surprised this hasn't been filled with endless grammar errors, usually not so good with it.
Would Also like to take time and do a shout out to Wilhelm, or as he is known in IRC Changeling_Wil, thank you for giving me to the inspiration to do a House crossover fic. His page can be found here: Wilhelm's page