Written by matwil

Sunday, 17 May 2009

image for 'Sherlock Holmes and the Flying Pigs of Westminster' The bloodhound of Westminster

As a thick fog descended on Baker Street in central London, Sherlock Holmes was having tea with his friend and colleague, Dr. Watson, and discussing the sleuth's latest case.

'Dashed disturbing, Holmes', the doctor said, 'I just can't think of how all those Parliamentary expense forms were never checked, or how they were used to steal millions of pounds over many years. We may have to call in the Yard about this one.'

'Amateurs, Watson', the detective said, 'we have no need of them. I think I'll retire to my room, an idea may come to me', and he left, and soon there was a sound like a cat being tortured by a rabid vampire bat as Holmes began playing his violin.

The next morning a red-eyed Holmes wandered into the breakfast room, holding his head. 'Black coffee, Watson, and lots of it.' 'I wish you wouldn't take that beastly cocaine stuff', the doctor muttered, 'it can't be doing you any good.'

'On the contrary', Holmes replied, 'I've come up with the solution to our little mystery.' 'What!' 'Yes, it was alimentary.' 'You mean elementary.' 'Alimentary. It came to me when I was stuck in the khazi last night, after taking a huge injection of cocaine.' 'Oh.'

'It's been staring at us in the face, Watson, and it's quite obvious. The simple explanation for all the expenses forms claiming huge amounts of money for personal luxury items and services, and for those claims not being spotted, is that M.P.s have been carrying out criminal frauds and embezzlements, and that the people supposed to check the claims have been in on the crimes.'

'Unbelievable! But how did you work it all out, Homes? I mean Holmes.' 'I used deductive reasoning, and my knowledge of pig troughs. There are over a hundred and twelve different types of pig trough, but if an M.P. puts his - or her - nose into any one of them, it leaves a stink you can smell as far away as suburban Edinburgh.'

'So -'. 'So now we hand it over to the Metropolitan Police, much as I despise those useless bumblers, and the criminals will, of course, lose their jobs in Parliament, and be tried in the courts.' 'Of course.'

And putting a slightly-used nicotine patch on to his arm, he continued: 'Now, on to a more baffling case, again involving swine. Three pigs were seen flying over the River Thames last night, Watson, and I fear we may not have heard the last of the Flying Pigs of Westminster.'

'You mean -' 'No, I don't. I mean that as long as M.P.s caught stealing are correctly sacked and prosecuted by the authorities for their crimes, the flying pigs will be seen around the West End.'

'Then -' 'Yes, Watson, then the government will have to release its stock of the special and largely harmless armadillo 'flu virus, to take people's minds off the flying pigs, and to avoid widespread panic.' 'But we must hunt the pigs down, Holmes, this is monstrous! We must hire hot air balloons, and air-to-air porcine-seeking missiles!'

'They haven't been invented yet, Watson, and anyway, I have the situation under control.' 'How?' 'It's elementary, even an American President could work it out.'

'We use our secret supply of invisible weapons of mass destruction, that we hid in the cellar, that should get rid of the pigs!', and Holmes went back to his room to have another try at playing the longest out-of-tune violin solo in musical history.

Sergeant Blears-Prescott was seen at his desk in Scotland Yard, shaking his head in reluctant admiration at the brilliance of Sherlock Holmes.

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

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