And the time machine is even a chick. All right. He sneers when Peter imitates the bizarre mispronunciation. Maybe there is alcohol in the punch. House takes another sniff of it, then gulp. It doesn't taste like alcohol. But neither does a long island ice tea, and he's not one to slur his words like that unless it's deliberate or he's drunk.

"These dreams usually have a direction they're heading apart from Crazytown, Bloodbag?" Well, if he doesn't want to be an 'angel.' House moves just a tad closer, feeling the urge to loom a bit at the other man, intimidate him. He bares his long, fake fangs in another grimace to help the intimidation along before catching himself, brows furrowing. What is he even doing? The doctor blinks a few times and shakes his head, moving back from Peter.

"Something is in ze punch."