Tuesday, March 06, 2007


HOLMES: Watson!

WATSON: (panting) Yes, Holmes?

HOLMES: I draw your attention to exhibit F by the pantry.

WATSON: It's a canine deposit what what what.

HOLMES: I know what it is, you quirky quack. I want to know what you're going to do about it and exhibits A-E.

WATSON: It's Jemima, Holmes. She's away from home, in our safe keeping I might add, whilst her master embarks on a most important errand for Our Majesty. She's experiencing deep stress at being in strange surroundings.

HOLMES: Watson, the perpetrator of exhibit F is not Jemima the Alsatian, but that filthy bloodhound Toby, who really has no excuse.

WATSON: He's excited, Holmes. I think he's taken quite a shine to our Jemima.

HOLMES: And he displays his amorous interest in her by fouling up the place? Pull the other one, it's got church bells on it.

WATSON: It's only for a few more days, old boy. Perhaps if you were more playful with them, they'd relax more.

(loud parp in distance)

HOLMES: Watson, there goes another. It's got to stop, I tell you, or I shall drag both of those sorry mutts down Baker Street into Regent's Park and deposit the finest buckshot right up their derrieres.

WATSON: I say, there's no need for that language, old chum. They're only a pair of defenceless, vulnerable pups in need of a hug and a stroke.

(another loud parp, this time in parlour)

HOLMES: Toby! If that's you, I shall blow your little furry brains out and sell you for soap! Do you hear?! And then I shall shoot that namby pamby fawning Jemima to buggery!

WATSON: Confound it, man, you've got to calm down. You'll have a cardiac.

HOLMES: And then I shall turn the shotgun on myself and leave you to clear up all the mess, you Hippocratic buffoon!

(a further parp resounds on the landing)

HOLMES: That's it! I warned you! (grabs shotgun and loads barrels)

WATSON: Holmes! Have you taken leave of your senses?! Put that gun down.

HOLMES: Get out of my way, Watson.

WATSON: I'm not moving. You'll have to shoot me first before you get to the pups.

HOLMES: I'm warning you, old chum.

WATSON: Holmes, no!


WATSON: Holmes, you're hit!

(Holmes slumps to the ground, Toby and Jemima come scampering into parlour, hurl themselves at Holmes and lick either cheek profusely)

WATSON: Ahhh, that's nice. A more touching scene of canine outpouring have I not seen since the Baskervilles.

HOLMES: An ambulance, Watson. Get me an ambulance! I'm dying!

WATSON: Just so, old boy. An ambulance, you say? Right you are. An ambulance...

HOLMES: (rolls eyes) What a terrible way to go. I hope mummy doesn't see me like this. Ohhhh...

1 comment:

Gorilla Bananas said...

I always suspected that Holmes was a mummy's boy. Is Toby Jemima Khan's new squeeze then? I heard that she'd split up with Huge Grant, but I don't keep up to date with all the ins and outs.