Wattson: Sherlock! There's been a murder
Sherlock: It was you! Wattson: It wasn't me Sherlock: Are you sure it wasn't you? Wattson: Positive. Why don't you use your skills of deductive reasoning to find out who the real murderer is? Sherlock: Capital idea, Wattson! But how did you know I would have to use deductive reasoning unless.. (Sherlock gasps, points at Wattson) Wattson: It wasn't me. Sherlock: Alright, fine. But next time it's you. Madame: Oh, Please help us, Sherlock. Phil was a good friend of mine. Please, find the person who killed him. Sherlock: For you, Madame, I'll take the case. Hamilton: Oh! Can I help! Sherlock: Who are you? Hamilton: Hamilton. Mark Hamilton. I'm your biggest fan, and I'd love to be your sidekick Wattson: Job's taken, kid. Sherlock: Biggest fan, eh? Hamilton: Most certainly, sir! Sherlock: Okay, kid. What can you do? Wattson: Sherlock! Sherlock: Calm down, Wattson. He might be useful. Hamilton: I'm a geologist Sherlock: (To Wattson) Nevermind. (To Hamilton) Really? Hamilton: Yep. A trained geologist. Sherlock: Okay, awesome. I'll let you know if we need you. (Sherlock moves away, with Wattson in tail) Wattson: (To Hamilton) We don't need you. (Sherlock approaches Jack) Screamer: Oh, it was horrid! Absolutely horrid! Jack: Yes, I know dear. Screamer: Truly Horrid! Jack: I know Sherlock: Mr O'Lantern is it? Jack: Please, Jack. And this is my fiancee Miss Dee Cybil. Screamer: This whole thing is horrid! Sherlock: Yup. I got that. Thank you. So, Mr. O'Lantern - How did you know the victim. Jack: Oh, he was a friend of my father's. Perhaps you've heard of him, Bill O'Lantern of O'Lantern's Candle Emporium? Sherlock: This Candle Emporium .. would you happen to make Candlesticks there? Jack: Well, yes - yes we do. Sherlock: Ah, and the candlestick that was stabbed into the back of the inventor there - Screamer: Oh, my! That was absolutely - Sherlock: Horrid? Yeah, got that. It's okay. I've got your testimony right here. It's one word - Horrid. I've got it. Did you get it Wattson? Wattson: That it was horrid? Sherlock: It was horrid. Wattson: Murder - horrid. Got it. Sherlock: Okay, good. That's done. Now, Jack - Jack: Oh my god, it's Jill! (Jill enters, and is immediately approached by Sherlock) Sherlock: Who are you!? Madame: Oh, Sorry Sherlock. This is my daughter Jill. She was in her room upstairs. Jill: Mother, is that Jack? You didn't tell me you were inviting him. Madame: You forget about him, Jill. He's engaged now. Sherlock: What were you doing upstairs? Jill: I was just looking at the new dress mother bought me Madame: You didn't touch it did you!? Now I'll have to have it cleaned. Where is that blasted butler? Sherlock: Ah, a butler. Now we're getting somewhere. (Madame rings a small bell.) (Smokebomb. Butler appears) Butler: Yes, Madame? Madame: (To Sherlock) He has a taste for the theatrical. Sherlock: Where were you five minutes ago? Butler: The kitchen, sir. Madame: Nevermind that, Jeeves - my daughter's dress needs cleaning. Butler: Very well, Madame. Sherlock: Wait - I have some quest - (Smokebomb - Butler Exits) (Sherlock and Wattson approach Doctor) Sherlock: And who are you, Miss. Doctor: That's Doctor. Susan Q. Doctor. M.D. I really am a doctor. I swear. Sherlock: And you were the inventor's personal physician? Doctor: Ah, yes. Physician is just a fancy word for Doctor. Which is what I am. A doctor. Sherlock: So, what was the cause of death? Doctor: In technical terms, a severe case of cranial breakaging resulting in the rupture of the victim's bloodlet cavity. Sherlock: Well, that certainly sounds like medicine. Okay, Doctor - answer this: What disease is caused by the inflammation of one's tonsils? Doctor: Tonsillitis? Sherlock: AHA! Wattson: Was that wrong? Sherlock: (Taking a newspaper out of his coat) No, it was the last clue of this crossword. There, done. Now for the jumble! Wattson: Sherlock! Sherlock: Yes? Wattson: Murder. Sherlock: Oh, yes! That's right. Uh, you're clear, Doctor. For now. (Lord Nosferatu enters) Sherlock: Does "seal the doors" mean nothing to you people!? Who the hell are you? Madame: This is my houseguest, Lord Nosferatu of the Undead. Sherlock: Lord Nosferatu of the Undead? Lord: At your service. Sherlock: Well, it was definitely you. Lord: What was me? Sherlock: You killed him. Lord: Killed who? Wattson: Are you sure it was him? Sherlock: Please, his name is Lord Nosferatu of the Undead! That is actually his name! Madame: A rose of any other name.. Sherlock: Yeah, but roses don't kill people! Hamilton: Some do. If you're allergic. Sherlock: Rarely do roses kill people. My point stands! He calls himself Lord Nosferatu of the Undead! Lord: Actually, it's pronounced ündead. There's an umlaut over the U. Now, if you don't mind - I've got a crumpet waiting for me in the other room. (Lord Nosferatu exits) Sherlock: This place is mental! (Smokebomb. Butler enters with a teapot and cups on a tray) Butler: Tea anyone? Anyone? Tea? No? .. No? (Smokebomb. Butler exits) Sherlock: Everyone stop! I cannot stress how serious this is. The fact remains - someone in this room is a murderer. (The Major enters) Sherlock: Where the hell where you!? Major: I had to make a phone call. Sherlock: Okay, well - NOW Someone in this room is a murderer. .. Who were you calling? Major: My baby brother has been murdered! I called a detective! Sherlock: Another detective? But .. but I'm the world's greatest detective. Hamilton: No, Batman's the world's greatest detective. Wattson: Shut up, Hamilton! Sherlock: Thank you, Wattson. Wattson: My pleasure. Sherlock: How could you call another detective? Major: I wasn't going to leave the investigation to someone as incompetent as you. Sherlock: .. I already don't like you. And I'll show you. I'll solve this case. I'll solve it like this Sodoku! (Takes out newspaper again) Wattson: Sherlock.. Sherlock: Ah, yes. Murder. Uh, (to Wattson) Did you do it!? Wattson: No! Black End |
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