MRS HUDSON: Oh, Mr Sherlock, I had no idea.
HOLMES: It's all right, Hudders, you weren't to know.
MRS HUDSON: And this baby of yours...
HOLMES: My son.
MRS HUDSON: You've really no idea where he is now?
HOLMES: Unfortunately, not. The mother gave strict instructions that I was to be kept in the dark about his whereabouts.
MRS HUDSON: But surely with all your powers of detection, you could find him, Mr Sherlock.
HOLMES: Alas, there are some puzzles even the great Sherlock Holmes cannot solve.
MRS HUDSON: But have you tried to find him?
HOLMES: Oh, dear Hudders, it is not so simple. The boy, no doubt, has changed name and identity a hundred times since he was brought into this ugly world of ours.
MRS HUDSON: Oh, Mr Sherlock, is that a tear I see in your eye?
HOLMES: I fear it is, Hudders.
MRS HUDSON: Oh, come here, you silly old fruit.
(MRS HUDSON PULLS HOLMES TO HER WELCOMING BOSOM)
MRS HUDSON: Is that better, Mr Sherlock?
HOLMES: (sighs) Much better, sweet udders. I mean Hudders.
MRS HUDSON: There, now you rest your weary weepers awhile until that daft old quack Watson gets back from the vet with that filthy mutt.
HOLMES: Mmm. One could quite easily... fall asleep... in such a soft... cradle... zzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
(FRONT DOOR BURSTS OPEN)
WATSON: I say, Holmes! We're back! Toby's had his manhood seen to. Ah-hmm. Perhaps he'll stop trying to compromise all those cute little poodles now. Holmes?!
MRS HUDSON: Hush, will you! Mr Sherlock is enjoying forty winks.
WATSON: Crikey. I say! Isn't he, just! As snug as a bug in an Axminster. Come on, Toby! Let's leave the master to um... enjoy Mrs Hudders'... thoughtful accommodation.
(TOBY WOOFS & SNIFFS MRS HUDSON'S KNICKERS)
WATSON: Here, boy! There's nothing of interest to you there now, Toby pooster. Choccie biccie?
(TOBY LEAPS AT WATSON & WAGS TAIL)
WATSON: Good boy! Let's go and see what we can find in the pantry what what what.
(TOBY WOOFS, WATSON MUTTERS, MRS HUDSON SIGHS CONTENTEDLY, HOLMES DREAMS OF MILK & HONEY & BOATING ALONG ON THE RIVER)