THE SPATULA OF MISSED CONTENTION

WATSON: I say, Holmes.

HOLMES: Yes, Watson?

WATSON: It's time for your six-monthly exploratory.

HOLMES: Are you absolutely certain this is necessary? You know what happened last time.

WATSON: Oh, come on, old boy. Don't be such a Jessie. It'll all be over in a jiffy.

HOLMES: Watson, your sado-masochistic tendencies are most unbecoming. I shall have a word with Sigmund about you.

WATSON: Balderdash and kerpiffle, Holmes! I am a commensurate professional who executes his duties in strict accordance with the Hippocratic oath. I assure you I am entirely neutral on such matters what what what.

HOLMES: Would that you were, old chap. But I have no wish to walk like a man on a saddle without a horse for a week again.

WATSON: But Holmes, that's because you insist on moving and stirring during the investigation. You really must learn to relax and be patient until the examination has reached its conclusion.

HOLMES: Whilst Professor Moriarty is at large I shall never relax. And as for conclusions...

WATSON: Imagine you're reading a good book or puffing on a new pipe, or turning bitumen into gold, that sort of thing.

HOLMES: Unfortunately, all my thoughts turn to darkened passageways and pathways that lead deeper and deeper into the hellish caverns of Hades strewn with soot and grime and all things decaying like rotten vegetables on Hudders' compost heap where the wretched serpent lurks.

WATSON: Good Lord, Holmes. I do believe you've transmuted this into a sublimational trauma in your own mind with a twist or two.

HOLMES: My dear Watson, I have done no such thing. I simply do not relish you or any other doctor tampering with my equipment.

WATSON: Well I never! As if I would. Why, the mere suggestion leaves one most indignant.

HOLMES: Oh, really, Watson. You know full well that you delight in tweaking my Bunsen burner and pinging my testtube at every available opportunity.

WATSON: Fancy! The great Sherlock Holmes afraid of little old me with his spatula. The thought of it.

HOLMES: Oh, for the love of the Empire, can we just get this over with so I may return to my criminological pursuits? Mandrake the Mad Axe Man of the Midlands is still on the loose, you know.

WATSON: You can always test yourself, you know, old boy. With supervision, naturally. Perhaps it would take the sting out of the tail, so to speak.

HOLMES: Watson, that's a splendid idea. Hand me that spatula, will you, old fruit? Now how far does one have to probe?

WATSON: Until you hear a faint click.

HOLMES: Here goes. Mm-hm. Oh-ho. A-ha. Oh, dear. It would appear to be stuck.

WATSON: Good Lord! How on earth did you manage to get it at that angle? Quite remarkable.

HOLMES: If you wouldn't mind, Watson...

AND THERE WE MUST LEAVE OUR SLEUTH IN DISTRESS IN THE CAPABLE HANDS OF HIS FAITHFUL YET EVER SO SLIGHTLY CHUCKLING AND SMUG MEDICAL COMPANION WHO WILL RECORD LATER IN HIS DIARY THAT "I FEAR THAT WE SHALL FAIL TO REMOVE ALL OF THE SPATULA BUT AT LEAST HOLMES WILL ENJOY FROM NOW ON ADVANCE WARNING OF ANY IMPENDING EVACUATIONS".

AS ALWAYS, WE URGE OUR READERS & THEIR RELATIVES & ASSOCIATES NOT TO TRY THIS AT HOME. FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ON SPATULA ABUSE, PLEASE CONTACT THE SPATULAS CAN BE FUN BUT ONLY IN THE RIGHT HANDS SOCIETY AT spatulaabuseisn't4life@misguidedprobings.com