The Sign of Bore

Funny story written by matwil

Friday, 3 July 2009

image for The Sign of Bore

As Big Ben struck 8 o'clock, Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson sat eating breakfast and reading the newspapers. 'Skunk caught stealing fish taxes in Downing Street!', said the Daily Prole, while 'Slightly Unfavourable Outlook For Government After Elections', said The Times. Starting on his seventeenth boiled egg, Dr Watson suddenly stopped eating.

'Well, this is most surprising!', he said, looking down at the Daily Fascist's front page. 'What is it, Watson?' 'Listen to this, Holmes. 'Princess Carbonara of Mozzarelia's diamond is still missing. Police suspect Professor Moriarty, and wonder why Sherlock Holmes hasn't solved the mystery yet. Large reward offered for return of said diamond'.'

'Piffle and poppycock, Watson.' 'Pardon?' 'Poppy and pifflecock, I have become bored with all these tales of myself and my monstrously idiotic, bumbling sidekick. I shall retire, and become champion Scrabble player of Baker Street.'

'But -' 'No, Watson, my mind is made up, there will be no more cases, especially after that swim in Reichenbach harbour. The Yard must solve their own cases henceforth, kindly pass me another dozen eggs. And thirty-seven slices of toast.'

Dr Watson got up from the table and left the room, to go to his work as a neurosurgeon, and as he was operating on his twelfth patient of the morning a sudden thought came to him. 'Take over this brain operation', he said to a passing child pickpocket, and handed him his instruments, 'I must go and try and solve the missing diamond case, but without Sherlock Holmes.' 'Good luck to you, guv', the street urchin said to him, 'nah, is it the left side or the right side what I his operatin' on?'

Walking briskly along The Strand, then crossing briefly into Trafalgar Square, and then meandering in a hurried manner over Westminster Bridge before striding purposefully towards the Elephant and Castle, and negotiating westwards towards Kennington, carefully crossing the zebra crossing beside The Oval, Dr Watson had to take a break, as he was running out of adverbs. And he had found no clues yet to the whereabouts of the missing diamond.

'Maybe Holmes is right', he thought, 'maybe these stories are getting tedious, maybe we should just pack it all in and go and write for No, no, what am I thinking of!', and he hailed a cab, and ordered it to return him to Baker Street.

'Well', the doctor said, arriving just as Sherlock Holmes was filling his plate from the unlimited all-day buffet that their housekeeper Mrs Hissus had laid on, to keep them going until lunchtime, 'I can see no light at the end of the tunnel, and I must admit it IS becoming a bit boring, all these cases ...', and he helped himself to eight roll-mop herrings, two baked potatoes, four Scotch eggs, twelve slices of salami, a chicken, a jellied eel, and a slice of beetroot.

'Watson', the sleuth replied, 'as always I have solved the case.' 'What!' 'Yes, while you were out perambulating 'neath Imperial skies, I was using my deductive powers to not only solve the missing diamond mystery, but also to beat the world record for the number of pickled eggs eaten in one hour.'

'Remarkable!' 'Ask yourself, Watson, why did Princes Carbonara not use her own detectives, the 'AntiPasti', to investigate the theft?'

'And why did her advisors Count Parmesano and Signora Dolce Vita not also instigate investigations? And why did the infamous head of the Mozzarelian Secret Police, Monsignor Rosti Bifi e Iorki Pudine e Gravi e Patate di Macchio con i Sprutti della Brusseloni, not inquire in an investigational instigation? The answer is obvious, Watson, and I can barely be bothered to sully myself with revealing my conclusions.'

'Oh, OK then', the doctor replied, 'like you I'm bored with all these tedious cases. Let's go egg-throwing in Westminster, be more fun than all this tommy-rot about diamonds and Princesses.'

'Agreed, Watson', and the detective and the doctor left, first filling their pockets with any remaining eggs and stuffed anchovies from the all-day buffet.

The funny story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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