THE CURIOUS CASE OF THE MISSING BUFFTERS WITH THE MOST UNSAVOURY FREDDY

READ ALL ABOUT IT! BUFFTERS SPOTTED ON BOUVET ISLAND BOFFING HIS WAY THRU THE LOCAL LADY STOCK! WORLD EXCLUSIVE! UN URGENTLY RECALLS SECURITY COUNCIL TO SEND TROOPS, BOMB, EXTERMINATE, DEFUMIGATE, ASSURE, REINSURE AND UDDER IMPORTANT STUFF! HOLMES AND DR WATSON SENT TO INVESTIGATE... 

SAY VRAY - DAT'S FRENCH TO YOUSE ET MOI.  THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF OUR DEAR OLD BUFFTERS FROM DA MICHIGAN AREA CAUSED WIDESPREAD CONCERN AND MANIC TWEETING FOR SEVERAL MONTHS BEFORE AN INNOCENT BYSTANDER HOLIDAYING ON BOUVET ISLAND HAD A MOST UNFORTUNATE ENCOUNTER WITH A BONE-EH-FIDAH REPROBATE ANSWERING TO BUFFTERS' DESCRIPTION, AND NAME EVEN, AND IN SHEER PANIC JUMPED OFF THE NEAREST CLIFF AND SWAM FOR IT, LEAVING BEHIND A BOTTLE FOR DEXTERITY CONTAINING THE FOLLOWING NOTE: "He says he is Buffters. Gawd help me and Gawd help da whirled. Get Sherlock Holmes, pleez! Tiz our only hope."

BELOW IS ALL THAT REMAINS OF A DIARY ENTRY MADE BY WATSON PERTAINING TO THE MYSTERIOUS CASE OF THE MISSING BUFFTERS WITH THE MOST UNSAVOURY FREDDY...

WARNING: EXCESSIVE DOSES OF ALCOHOL AND OTHER SUBSTANCES SUCH AS BENADRYL REQUIRED TO MAKE ANY SENSE OF THIS STORY.


THE CURIOUS CASE OF THE MISSING BUFFTERS WITH THE MOST
UNSAVOURY FREDDY.

WATSON:  I say, Holmes, what what what?

HOLMES: Yes, Watson, what?

WATSON: Terribly awful business about that inveterate reprobate, what what what?

HOLMES: Yes, Watson. But as with any other degenerate, one must square up to this reprobate, look him squarely in the eye and encourage him to mend his ways.

WATSON: Yes, quite. Damned rough crossing from the mainland. Feeling rather queasy, what what what?

HOLMES: Indeed. Most regrettable, but we have arrived in one piece and we must get to work. There's not a moment to lose. We must find this Buffters fellow and deal with him in the most humane way possible.

WATSON: But how are we going to find him, old thing, when we don't even know what he looks like?

HOLMES: O ye of little faith, Watters. Finding him is the easy part. What to do with him is the real challenge.

WATSON: Sorry, I don't think I follow you, Holmes.

HOLMES: Do you see these footprints in the sand, Watson?

WATSON: Well, yes, but what of them?

HOLMES: They are those of a white man, with a slight limp, a reasonable IQ but base desires and hedonistic tendencies.

WATSON: Why, you don't think...

HOLMES: Indeed I do.

WATSON: Good grief, Holmes, how could you possibly tell all those things from such innocuous footprints?

HOLMES: Elementary, my dear Strudel. Because he is over there, if I'm not mistaken boffing one of the local maidens.

WATSON: Oh, I say! Has the man no shame?!

HOLMES: Evidently not. Thankfully, he is so preoccupied with "giving her a good seeing to" as modern parlance would have it that we may sneak up on him with the greatest of ease.

(HOLMES AND WATSON APPROACH BUFFTERS WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE. THEY OBSERVE WITH HORROR AS BUFFTERS POUNDS AND PUMPS AWAY WITH RELENTLESS JOY, THE LOCAL MAIDEN MOANING WITH GREAT RELISH.)

WATSON: (whispering) I say, Holmes, it does appear as if the young lady is a willing participant in this overtly degrading copulatory act, what what what?

HOLMES: (whispering) Affirmative, Mein Herring. One can but admire his technique, no doubt honed over many thousands of sleepless nights with countless maidens.

WATSON: (whispering) Is it just me, or do you feel that we are intruding on something which nature always intended to come to pass?

HOLMES: (whispering) Watson, if I told you otherwise it would be a lie. Clearly, it is incumbent upon us to wait for nature to take its course before confronting this shameful reprobate who has become a horrendous blot on the landscape and an intolerable nuisance to the world community of decency and decorum.

WATSON: (whispering) Oh, jolly well put, Holmes. You have such a way with words. But, um, well, he doesn't show any signs of letting up, you know. We could be here for some time, what what what?

HOLMES: (whispering) Patience, old chum. Patience. He'll tire soon enough.

(TWO HOURS AND MANY GRUNTS AND WAILS LATER)

WATSON: Quite incredible. This repugnant reprobate knows no limits. Why, you'd think by now his Freddy would have dropped off, what what what?

HOLMES: I fear we are dealing with a phenomenon which transcends the boundaries of what we, science and Encyclopaedia Britannica think of as human. This man's energy and strength of purpose are truly remarkable, a testament to Quakers Oats and English Morning Breakfast Tea.

WATSON: Yes, and even though we are no longer whispering, in fact almost shouting, he refuses to desist.

HOLMES: With every beginning there must be an end, Botty Watty. And if I'm not mistaken, he will finish right...

(BUFFTERS YELPS)

HOLMES: ..now!

WATSON: I don't believe it! How could you know?

(THE LOCAL MAIDEN, HORRIFIED AT THE ONLOOKERS, GATHERS HER THINGS AND FLEES INTO THE JUNGLE, BUFFTERS COLLAPSES IN A HEAP, SIGHING CONTENTEDLY)

WATSON: You disgusting reprobate!

BUFFTERS:  (looks up) Huh? Who are you?

WATSON: I am Doctor Watson, and this is the world famous Sherlock Holmes. And who, may I ask, are you?

BUFFTERS: I am but a simple man of simple means and simple pleasures. They call me by many names but you can call me Buffters.

WATSON: You see, Holmes? He's admitted it. He is Buffters, the incorrigible reprobate which we seek.

HOLMES: He really couldn't be anyone else, doc. Now, tell me, Mr Buffters, is it true that you arrived a few months ago on this fair isle and immediately set about corrupting as many maidens as you could lay your hands...

WATSON: And your Freddy!

HOLMES: ..on?

BUFFTERS: Well, it's like this, Sherlock...

HOLMES: Don't call me Sherlock.

BUFFTERS: All right. It's like this, Mr Holmes, they was gagging for it, I was gagging for it after a prolonged period of abstinence and, uh, well, we came to a mutually satisfying agreement.

WATSON: Why, you filthy blackguard, you!

HOLMES: Watson, please. I'm trying to interrogate the revolting reprobate here. It will all go a lot smoother and quicker if you put a sock in it. Now, where were we? Ah, yes. So it is your contention that you have committed no crime nor compromised any maiden's virtue without permission?

BUFFTERS: Nope. And I can prove it. Ask any of them and they'll tell you. Since I arrived on this island, they've had the time of their lives. (pulls out a diary from his pocket) You see? Full up with assignations. If it carries on like this, I will literally bonk meself to death, innit. Not that I'm complaining, like.

WATSON: Holmes, permission to cut this degenerate's balls off right now and release these poor maidens from their carnal servitude.

HOLMES: Permission denied!

WATSON: But... but...

HOLMES: Shut it! Now, Mr Buffters, I must conclude from all you have told us and all I have observed that we have been dispatched here under false pretences.

WATSON: What?! Have you taken leave of your senses, Holmes?!

HOLMES: Watson, I won't warn you again. One more word out of you and I'll deck you! Now, Mr Buffters, I really must apologise for detaining you any longer when you have such a busy schedule.

BUFFTERS: Most thoughtful of ya, Mr Holmes.

HOLMES: There is just one small matter that I need to impart to you before we leave you to continue your life of orgasmic abandon.

BUFFTERS: Go on.

HOLMES: A lot of people have been worried about you since your disappearance without so much as a postcard. Perhaps you'd be good enough to give me a message which I can convey to all those back in Blighty and in the US of A who are convinced you have been abducted by aliens and are in fear of being vaporized for misdemeanours to the universe?

BUFFTERS: OK. Tell 'em not to worry, I am possessed by the gods. Go figger!

HOLMES: Thank you. I shall make sure they get your message.

BUFFTERS: Oh, and one more thing.

HOLMES: Yes?

BUFFTERS: Film at eleven.

HOLMES: I beg your pardon?

WATSON: How extraordinary...

BUFFTERS: Arf, arf!


HOLMES AND DR WATSON HAVE NOT BEEN SEEN OR HEARD OF SINCE THEY DEPARTED FOR BOUVET ISLAND. THIS DIARY ENTRY WAS TORN OUT AND SENT IN A BOTTLE WHICH WASHED ASHORE ON THE SOUTH-WEST COAST OF BLIGHTLY. SOME SAY THEY HAVE BEEN BEWITCHED BY THE EARTHLY DELIGHTS OF BOUVET ISLAND AND HAVE TAKEN TO A LIFE OF UNBRIDLED DEBAUCHERY. OTHERS SAY THEIR BOAT CAPSIZED AND THEY WERE SNATCHED BY PIRATES, PUT IN CHAINS AND SET TO WORK IN THE GALLEYS. STILL OTHERS SAY THEY ARE SLOWLY MAKING THEIR WAY BACK TO BLIGHTY VIA FINLAND WHERE THEY HAVE FOUND THE PEOPLE TO BE UNIQUE, THOUGHTFUL, WISTFUL, PLAYFUL, PATRIOTIC AND TOTALLY INSANE. OR IT'S JUST POSSIBLE THAT THEY CAN'T BE ARSED TO TELL US WHERE THEY ARE AND WHAT THEY'RE DOING. GO FIGGER!