A New Mystery at 221 Baker Street

Chapter 6: Bored

Note:

Transcript provided by Ariane Devere/ Callie Sullivan

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Sherlock sat in his chair, dressed in his pyjamas and robe. He pointed his gun at the wall against the sofa and shot the wall twice. On the wall was a spray-painted smiley face. The two initial shots were aimed towards the eyes of the face. Sherlock shot the wall again. Two bullets rested in the curve of the face's smile. Sherlock continued to shoot the wall as John came upstairs.

"What the hell are you doing?" John yelled with his fingers in his ears.

"Bored,"

"What?" John asked in disbelief.

"Bored!" Sherlock jumped up from his chair, causing John to cover his ears once more. Sherlock turned towards the wall once more and pointed the gun at it. "Bored! Bored! Bored!" Sherlock fired at the smiley face with each word. John lunged forwards and took the pistol from Sherlock's hand. Alice, who had just arrived home, ran up the steps.

"What the fuck?" Alice yelled, her hands resting over her ears. Sherlock sulked over to the sofa.

"I don't know what's gotten into the criminal classes, good job I'm not one of them."

"So you decided to take it out on the wall?" John asked, removing the magazine clip and placing the gun in a safe.

"The wall had it coming," Sherlock replied, tracing the smile on the wall. He then proceeded to fall back onto the sofa.

"What about the Russian case?" John asked.

"Belarus, John." Alice corrected, "And I'm guessing it was an open and shut domestic murder based off of the smiley face and bullet holes in the wall,"

"Ah, shame," John said sarcastically, walking into the kitchen, "Anything in? I'm starving," John opened the fridge door and immediately closed it. John proceeded to slowly open the fridge once more. Inside lied a severed head. "It's a head, a severed head!"

"Just tea for me, thanks," Sherlock called from the sofa, earning a smack on the arm from Alice who sat down in his chair.

"No, there's a head in the fridge."

"Yes,"

"A bloody head!" John exclaimed.

"Well, where else was I supposed to put it?" Sherlock called out before turning to Alice, who was preoccupied with her phone "You don't mind do you?"

"I'm not your roommate," Alice replied, not looking up.

"I got it from Bart's morgue," Sherlock said flatly, "I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death,"

"And you couldn't have done that at Bart's?" Alice asked, "John, I made some muffins earlier; they're on the table- blueberry walnut.

Sherlock ignored her comment and motioned towards John's laptop. "I see you've written up the taxi driver case. 'A Study in Pink,' Nice,"

"Well, you know, pink lady, pink phone- there was a lot of pink. Did you like it?" John asked before taking a bite from his muffin.

"No," Sherlock said, flipping open a random magazine.

"Why not? I thought you'd be flattered,"

Sherlock lowered the magazine and glared at John. "Flattered? 'Sherlock sees through everything and everyone in seconds. What's incredible, though, is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things'," Sherlock quoted from John's blog.

"Wow, John, pretty spot on," Alice commented, stifling another laugh.

"Now hang on a minute. I didn't mean that in a-" John tried to defend himself.

"Oh, you meant 'spectacularly ignorant' in a nice way! Look, it doesn't matter to me who's prime minister, or who's sleeping with who,"

"Whom," Alice called out from her seat.

"Or whether the Earth goes around the Sun-" John commented.

"Not that again. It's not important." Sherlock argued back.

"Not important? It's primary school stuff. How can you not know?"

"Well if I ever did, I've deleted it. Listen, John," Sherlock sat up to face John and pointed to his head, "This is my hard drive, and it only makes sense to put things in there that are useful. Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish, and that makes it hard to get at the stuff that matters. Don't you see?"

John stared at him for a second, trying to restrain himself. "But it's the solar system!"

"Oh, hell! What does that matter?" Sherlock exclaimed, "So, we go around the Sun! If we went around the Moon, or round the garden like a teddy bear, it wouldn't make any difference. All that matters to me is the work. Without that, my brain rots. Put that on your blog. Or, better yet, stop inflicting your opinions on the world." Sherlock lied back down on the sofa again with his back facing John and Alice.

John stood still for a second before walking towards the front door. "Right, well, I'm leaving,"

"Where are you going?" Alice asked.

"Out, I need some air," John answered, putting on his coat.

"Say 'hi' to Sarah for me," Alice called out as John left the flat. On his way out, he bumped into Mrs.Hudson who was carrying some groceries.

"Hoo-hoo," Mrs.Hudson knocked in the doorway. "Did those two have a little domestic?"

"You have no idea," Alice said, getting up from her chair to help put away the groceries.

"Ooh, it's a bit nippy out there." Mrs.Hudson commented from the kitchen. "He should have wrapped himself up a bit more." Sherlock got up from the sofa.

"Look at that, ladies," Sherlock scanned the street below "quiet, calm, peaceful. Isn't it hateful?"

"Oh, I'm sure something will turn up, Sherlock," Mrs.Hudson said, putting the grocery receipt on the kitchen table.

"A nice murder, that'll cheer you up," Alice added before turning in for the night.

"Can't come too soon," Sherlock said longingly.

"Hey! What have you done to my bloody wall?" Mrs.Hudson exclaimed, noticing the smiley face and bullet holes on the wall. I'm putting this on your rent, young man!" Mrs.Hudson stormed downstairs while Sherlock grinned at his artwork on the wall.

Behind him, a massive explosion went off; causing the windows to blow in.