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6th July, 2015
The Bejewelled Welshman
Today’s blog entry was going to be one in the style of my older posts. I was going to write up one of the more interesting cases that Sherlock and I have been investigating for the past few days. However, Sherlock has just managed to hospitalise himself for the third time this month – yes, I’m aware it’s only the 6th – by means that I felt were too hilarious to keep from you.
Imagine, if you will, an empty manor house. It’s been abandoned for about twenty years, so it’s pretty much a horror film cliché, with broken floorboards and cobwebs hanging from every corner. There’s hardly any natural light as all the windows are so grimy and it’s a right pain in the arse trying to navigate yourself from A to B.
Anyway, a few weeks ago, some kids playing in the house found the body of a woman. She’d been dead for about five years, according to the coroner, and she didn’t match the profile of any missing person.
Oh, hang on. I’m going into the case in more detail than I’d expected. You aren’t interested in that. Basically, this woman turned out to be a prostitute from the local area. She’d been murdered by some guy from Newport who Sherlock had been after before for murdering prostitutes off-radar, but there was a twist in the tale; this guy normally went for blokes. This woman was his first female victim.
Anyway, Sherlock sets up an elaborate ruse. He poses as a male prostitute – trust me, if I’d known this was his plan, I would not have let him! – and lures this bloke to the manor house where he murdered the woman all those years ago. A scuffle ensues once the murderer realises what Sherlock’s up to, and after a long tussle, Sherlock manages to subdue him. He calls in Lestrade, who is not very happy at being interrupted while he’s picking out wedding fancies, and everything’s sorted out. Good old Scotland Yard.
Sherlock then proceeds to leave the police station, having begrudgingly given a statement (probably just so that Lestrade could take photos of him in his rent-boy gear, it was quite a sight) and promptly walks into oncoming traffic, getting hit by a cyclist. Both the cyclist and Sherlock are fine at this point, though. Don’t worry.
However, Sherlock then attempts to help the cyclist right the bicycle. I don’t know why. This isn’t a very Sherlock thing to do. Maybe the prostitute clothes made him want to give back to society. No idea. Anyway, he’s fiddling with the bike’s wheels, trying to sort the bicycle chain out, and he manages to –
- break his ankle.
Not where you thought that was going, was it? He slipped on a patch of grease, and fell over, dragging the bike – complete with irate cyclist – on top of his foot.
Needless to say, had I been there, I would have laughed.
As it was, I received a telephone call at 2am to say that my husband (very funny, Sherlock) was in A&E, tormenting all the staff on-duty, and could I please come and pick him up so as to avoid him sustaining any further injuries at the hands of a peeved off nurse.
I am now lumbered with a very cross consulting detective who only has the use of one foot.
Does anyone have any suggestions as to how to further his humiliation? I just set up a Youtube account and I need some good video material.
26 comments
Blimey, John! Seems like you get more action out of Afghanistan than in!
Bill Murray, July 6th, 14:54
Can I just confirm to everyone reading that yes, I was present for almost all of this, and no, it wasn’t as funny as John is making out. It was so much more hilarious. The image of a scowling Sherlock Holmes in leather trousers will forever be burned onto my retinas. It will also be forever hung on the evidence room wall, thanks to Anderson’s handiness with a camera.
Sally Donovan, July 6th, 17:43
It will NOT be forever hung on the evidence room wall. I’m not looking at that every time I have to check some bloodied piece of evidence. I’ll vomit everywhere
Lestrade, July 6th, 17:59
It won’t matter, though; now that you’re marrying into the Holmes clan, surely you’ll have a butler to do your laundry?
Sally Donovan, July 6th, 18:06
Ha bloody ha. I’m not marrying into the family of the Sultan of bloody Dubai, you know
Lestrade, July 6th, 18:11
Might as well be. Even in his rent-boy get-up, Sherlock’s shoes cost £400.
John Watson, July 6th, 18:18
Et tu, John? I thought we were brothers-in-arms
Lestrade, July 6th, 18:24
We’re not even brothers-in-law yet.
John Watson, July 6th, 18:31
Oi. It’s not too late to find a new Best Man, you know
Lestrade, July 6th, 18:34
Hahaha i bet sherlock looked a sight in those clothes!!
Molly Hooper, July 6th, 19:03
Did you say the picture was in the evidence room?
Molly Hooper, July 6th, 19:05
Not that i want to see it or anything like that. Obviously. Just asking.
Molly Hooper, July 6th, 19:07
Enter him into a three-legged race with another walking wounded.
Sally Donovan, July 6th, 19:11
No offence, John.
Sally Donovan, July 6th, 19:13
hey it was sycosomatic!!!
Harry Watson, July 6th, 19:28
Thank you for your prompt action in preventing my brother from irritating the good people of St Barts any further, John. I shall be sending them all a thank you card.
Mycroft Holmes, July 6th, 19:30
And a fruit basket, sir?
Anthea?, July 6th, 19:32
Yes, I think a fruit basket would be appropriate. Perhaps a nice malt loaf, too.
Mycroft Holmes, July 6th, 19:33
Sherlock has a message for you all. He’s slightly drugged up on painkillers, so he wasn’t as lucid as he’d like to think. He therefore says ‘don’t laugh at me, I am the greatest man alive, ooh John, your skin is like vanilla ice cream’.
John Watson, July 6th, 19:40
TMI!!!
Harry Watson, July 6th, 19:44
Anyway, John. Ridiculous whips and chains and tomfoolery aside, a car will arrive at 221B in approximately twenty minutes.
Mycroft Holmes, July 6th, 19:46
Why? What have I done now?
John Watson, July 6th, 19:50
Oh, nothing. However, my wedding will take place in a little over a week, and you have many duties as best man. I would prefer if we could discuss these thoroughly.
Mycroft Holmes, July 6th, 19:52
Also, Anthea wants to make a video of Sherlock whilst under the influence of painkillers for personal reasons. Blackmail, I believe.
Mycroft Holmes, July 6th, 19:56
Blackmail?! Now, hang on.
John Watson, July 6th, 20:03
Get in the car, John.
Mycroft Holmes, July 6th, 20:06
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