As Sherlock Holmes walked into Mrs. McCavalry's All-Day Breakfast Rooms, he spotted his colleague Dr. Watson at the back of that cafe ordering his third plate of bacon and eggs.
'Ah, there you are', the sleuth said to that doctor, and indeed he was, 'I thought I'd find you here.' 'Have a slice of toast, Holmes, deuced delicious stuff, this.' 'No thank you, Watson, I'm on a diet.'
'What! You mean -' 'Yes, I'm no longer eating breakfasts', and Mrs. McCavity passed out in a faint at hearing this, as her takings would now be cut by half. 'But this is madness, Holmes! And our amusing little tales can no longer have correct starts to them, for we are always eating breakfast at the, er, starts of them.'
'Pray give it no more thought, Watson, I didn't come here this morning to stuff myself with 18 rashers of bacon, 5 eggs, toast, marmalade, coffee, and a little biscuit that Mrs. McCalvary generously throws in for free.' 'I did.' 'No, I am here on serious business. A new case has arrived, one that will - those eggs look rather good - will tax us to the utmost, one that will - I haven't had a brown egg in years! Where was I?' 'You were making soldiers out of my toast and dipping them into my fried egg.'
'Exactly, Watson! And from that I deduce deductively that our case will involve more food later. Hopefully', and finishing up Dr. Watson's toast and knocking back his cup of coffee, Holmes then said 'Come, Watson, this case is a most urgent one', and the pair walked out of the shop with a now revived Mrs. McCalamity calling out
'Kindly do not leave until the bill is settled, sirs!', but the duo had sneaked out quickly. Holmes shouted back 'Put it on my slate!', and so was to begin the Case of the Mystery of the American President, or the Case of the Man With No Power.
Back at Ground Floor Flat 2, 232 Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes showed Dr. Watson the letter that had started the case off when it had arrived earlier that morning. 'Look at this, Watson, and give me your conclusions.' ''Your subscription for Hot Parlour Maids As You've Never Seen -''
'Oops! Not that letter, ahem, this one', and the detective showed Watson another letter. ''Dear Mr. Holmes, It has been brought to my attention that, whilst being employed by the great people of the United States of - and yes we can say - America, my job description allegedly referred to being the head of state of that fine country, and referred to, either obliquely or passive-wise in a tradition that has come to be accepted by the American people,
as the leader that can make the final decisions in times of conflict, or to cut a long story shorter, means that I can ignore Congress if I want to. And can declare or end any war I do so chose to.'
'But, sir, having been elected to the post I have been I now find myself completely powerless, as my promise of withdrawing American troops from whichever British colony they're in this week has not happened, and furthermore, to wit, m'lud, it shall not happen. This pisses me off. Yours long-windedly in, for now is the time for it, the longest cliche-ridden sentence of waffly bullshit I can get into one sentence, President Barack Hussein Obama.''
'Well, Watson?' 'Who is this Barack Hussein Obama? And why has he written this letter to you?' 'Tedious details, I fear, the whole point of that missive has once more eluded you, you fool.' 'What!'
'Buffoon, nincompoop, bumbling, fumbling idiotic foil for my genius brain work!' 'Well, I say, Holmes, that's a bit -' 'No time for such talk, we must go to Croydon.' 'But why?' 'Because, Watson, that is where the British Overseas Hot Air Balloon Company sends its balloons to America from', and soon they were at Croydon Balloon Port buying tickets for their journey to the USA.
As their balloon took off with its hundred passengers on board, the air stewardess gave them a 10-second instruction on what to do if their balloon lost power and crashed to the earth, causing a devastating explosion and leaving a sea of molten metal and pieces of their bodies scattered across hundreds of miles. She shut her eyes.
And then they were flying across the Atlantic Ocean. 'I say', said Dr. Watson, 'doesn't that boat down there look small!' 'It is small, Watson, kindly wake me when the free buffet comes round', and after 14 weeks of flying at 4 mph they finally arrived at the We-Invented-The-Wheel Balloon and Spacerocket Center at the edge of New York City.
After taking a yellow cab to the centre of Manhattan there followed a heated argument between Sherlock Holmes and the taxi driver about the fare, and about whether or not yellow cabs had in fact been invented yet, which was solved by that sleuth whacking the driver on the head with his Zulu knobkerrie, and he and Dr. Watson then went into their hotel, the Pitz. 'What is that man doing out on the pavement dressed up as a toy soldier?', Watson asked Holmes, but Holmes had walked over to the hotel receptionist.
'Young lady', he said to her, 'you once smoked mentholated cigarettes, you have an aunt in South Nebraska, and your chest size is 34B.' 'Incredible, Holmes!', the doctor who had followed him over said. 'How did you work all that out?'
'You know my methods', Holmes replied, 'apply them', and marched towards the lift. Giggling, the receptionist pointed to her employee resume that all the hotel's staff had posted behind the reception desk, listing her name, relations, habits, place of residence and brassiere size, and Dr. Watson realised that once again he was no match for Sherlock Holmes.
After a 14-course dinner of fried eggs, bacon, toast and coffee, the sleuth asked the waitress to bring over the room's telephone. 'Dashed clever chaps, these Americans', Watson remarked, 'inventing telephones.'
'The telephone was a British invention, Watson. As Americans have never invented anything important they have to try and steal our inventions for their own. Alexander Graham Bell was, of course, a Scotsman, now be quiet while I speak to the President', and he dialled the number of The Black and White House.
'Hello?', came a small girl's voice in Holmes's earpiece, and 'Hello, miss', replied Holmes, 'I am the famous detective Sherlock Holmes, in New York City. Can I speak to your father?'
'Sorree, he's busy right now, so I'm acting President for the next two hours. Mommy said she had to go and lie down for a while, and Daddy went to help her lie down.' 'Hmmm, well I suppose you'll make a better President than that last one, Theodore 'Let's Send Americans To Die In France Because The British Told Me To' Roosevelt. Now, young lady, your father wrote me a letter about a mystery that needs solving.'
'What mystery?' 'Well, he feels that despite being head of state of the USA he now finds that he has no authority.' 'Heck, he never stops griping about it, Mr. Holmes! Says he hates the job now, that he's just a token with no power, and that that bad man Mr. Cheney is still in this house!' 'He is?'
'Yep, Mom nearly whacked him with a mop last week, said she was sick of the old pervert hangin' around the place. I hate him, he's weird!' 'Well, thank you for your time, miss -' 'My name is Malia.' 'Sounds like a country, ha - er - ha.'
The next day Sherlock Holmes skipped breakfast, but sat with Dr. Watson as he waded through mountains of pancakes and maple syrup, all washed down with black tea.
'You're sure you won't have a pancake?', the doctor asked the sleuth, before asking the waitress for another 25 of them, and 'No, Watson, my diet continues. Now, we have got nowhere with this case yet, apart from learning that real maple syrup tastes remarkably good, and that Americans have no skill at brewing tea correctly.'
'Rather ironic, with them declaring independence over tea taxes, what!' 'I see nothing witty about such a situation. Let us now take the mountain to Muhammed Ali, and go to The Black and White House in Washington DC.' 'But why?'
'Because, Watson, there is more than meets the eye of the needle of Cleopatra's bank note the nine o'clock news at ten little politically incorrect answers here, hear', and they left to make their way to the Grand Humungus Pompous Inferiority Complexity Railroad Station in Queens.
Arriving in Washington DC, and after the wait to unload all the coffins of passengers resulting from gunshot killings during the short railway journey, as Americans who have guns turn into little children playing cops and robbers with them, the pair made their way to The Black and White House.
'If I am correct', Holmes said, 'this Barack Hussein Whatsisname is a product of a disturbed childhood, of being dragged around the world from country to country with no purpose in life, until he finally ended up in the one country in the world that wants such a person.' 'England?'
'No, Watson, America.' 'A bit harsh, Holmes, don't you think?' 'I merely say what 99% of the world now thinks, Watson, American Presidents have turned this nation into the Muppet Show', and pausing briefly to watch a former US President begging for spare change to fuel his chronic drink and drugs problem, and noticing that that President was acting like a deranged monkey with no brains or even ability to walk in a straight line, the pair arrived at The White and Black House.
Sherlock Holmes knocked on the door of that august building, and it was soon answered by a small girl. 'Oh, hi', she said, 'you must be Adolf Hitler. My school comic books taught me that.'
'No, miss, I am the one and only -' and Dr. Watson took out a drum and began a drum roll on it - 'the legendary, the famous, the -' 'Yeah, yeah', the girl said, 'you'd better come in. Dad's out playing golf with Tiger Woods, so no doubt they'll be stuck at the 19th. hole for the rest of the day. If they don't crash their cars into bushes, hahaha!'
'So', the sleuth addressed Malia Obama, for it was indeed her, 'how does it feel being the President of the USA?' 'Oh, so you worked it out then?', and she laughed, 'being Pres of America is just what every little girl wants to be. I smile and wave a lot, I get in the newspapers, and I talk childish gibberish about vague 'rights' for people without actually mentioning any details.'
'Dad is sure grateful to me for letting him pretend to be President. And, of course, I put on my 'serious' voice to lecture the people like a firestone and brimfire preacher out of The Little House On The Prairie, as that appeals to the average American voter, who has a mental age of 4.'
'But Miss Obama', Dr. Watson put in, 'can it really be true that a little girl is running the United States of America?' 'Sure, all I gotta do is wave and smile and do whatever Israel tells me to do, or sometimes whatever Britain tells me to do.'
'And look nice and go on and on about my skin coloring - and on and on and on and on and -' 'Enough!', cried Sherlock Holmes, 'I had expected by now for you to have been kissing my feet and saying how amazed you were at my incredible powers of deduction, but there's no pleasing some people.'
'Come, Watson, the mystery of the President with no power is over, he is but a feeble token that only Americans would believe is anyone worth voting for. Lucky we have such leaders as Sir David Lloyd Cameryawn and the Reverend Herbert McBroon to show the world that the mighty Empire is strong, that Britain leads the world, that -'
'We sure kicked your sorry asses outta here!', Malia giggled, 'mighty indeed!' 'But -', and the little girl suddenly produced a Magnum .44 revolver that she had hidden in her dress, and pointed it at the pair.
'The question you gotta ask yourself, punks', she said, all friendliness having disappeared, 'is who the f*** do you think you are comin' over here and telling me and my country what is and isn't right? You know, in all the excitement here I've kinda gotten a bit confused whether I should waste one of you or just blow both of your heads off with this Magnum .44, the most powerful hand gun in the world!'
'So you see, guys, you gotta ask yourself if you feel lucky. Well do ya?', and Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson shaved 3 seconds off the world record for leaving The White and Brown House as luckily as possible, previously held by George 'British Citizen' Washington.
Back at Baker Street the next day Dr. Watson and Sherlock Holmes were soon feeding their newly-bought chickens and pigs, as Holmes had decided that having the animals living in their house would save all the tedious work of having to buy bacon and eggs, and soon the duo's All-Day Breakfast Emporium was opened.
Malia Obama continued to be President of the USA, while her feeble father travelled round the world on permanent holiday, dropping in on Israel and Britain every few months to ask what they wanted him to do.
Tiger Woods denied that a hothoused nobody could become President of the once-powerful USA, though Malia Obama disagreed with him, and Jimmy W. Baboon continued to talk gibberish and beg on the streets of Washington DC.
The Cold War had already ended, thus turning the USA back into a feeble British colony that nobody is interested in any more, the European Union was already taking over the world, and the canny British were as ever playing off the Europeans and Americans against each other for their own ends,
and, in fact, are still ruling the world, but don't admit it to anybody. Americans meanwhile keep on making movies that show them as ruling the world, proving that they actually do have a sense of humour after all.
Malia Obama is widely expected to resign as US President soon, as 'I'm getting too grown-up to do the job'. Well, it is really quite an elementary one.
