[ The passenger seat is cold and damp and smells a little bit like goat. As Jim arrives, House is in the business of lighting himself a cigarette. He shakes out the match and glances over at his passenger. ]

Nah, I'm saving them for a rainy day. I like having something to sniff when I'm bored.

[ He sticks the cigarette between his teeth, guns the engine and pulls out. The tracks through the forest are not made for wheels and the golf cart isn't made for cross-country driving over anything more challenging than a well manicured green; between that and the frozen, uneven ground of the forest, there's a lot of turbulence. Jim might want to hold on to something.

As they go along through the underbrush, House fishes in the pocket of his coat and produces a small bottle, which he offers over to Hopper without taking his eyes off the "road". ]

Better than hair of the dog.