Hello! I love you're Sherlock sketches (that pin is amazing) and i really love your thoughts on him. I'm a big fan of the original books. While I'm also a fan of the BBC show, Disney movie, and Rathbone movies, I'll admit that they have their flaws. In your opinion, what do you think is the main thing that people misinterpret about his character? Why is it that no one gets seems to get Sherlock Holmes right? (Sorry if that makes no sense) Thanks!
Ah thank you so much! Ahh…so preface: I am no Sherlock Holmes expert! I just really loved the books (read ‘em a lot as a kid). I’m aware that there are a lot of different exegesis/analysis of the character–particularly who inspired him (Dr. Bell, Doyle Himself, etc). But these is just my general thoughts/understanding? also: LONG POST AHOY!
Confidence vs. Arrogance: Ok, so this I feel is a pretty big one that people get wrong! Sherlock Holmes possesses an enormous confidence in his brain and in his work–and it is described as “bordering on arrogance” but not actual arrogance itself (at least most of the time, he does get on Watson’s nerves if he presumes too much, hah). When Holmes’ confidence is misplaced, he is quick to criticize himself, apologize to whomever, and move the heck on, so that he can fix things…which…the more arrogant portrayals of Holmes struggle to do. Also, Holmes is “eager” (probably the most used description in all the books) not because he is compensating, but because he just loves his job. Thusly, he isn’t as concerned with “getting his man” as he is with solving the crime/protecting innocents. You’d be surprised how many villains get away at the end of these books (Holmes believes they get their just desserts eventually).
“‘No, it is not selfishness or conceit,’ said he, answering, as was his won’t, my thoughts rather than my words. ‘If I claim full justice for my art, it is because it is an impersonal thing–a thing beyond myself. Crime is common. Logic is rare.’” (Mystery of the Copper Beeches)
Misunderstanding “The Machine”: In modern interpretation, Watson’s comparison of Sherlock to a “machine” gets lost in translation, I think. In modern sensibilities, we see machines as cold, clinical, incapable of feeling (ie. robots). It is a common critique of Holme’s character in many modern adaptations. However, Watson’s comparison is…more specifically related to the arena of sexuality and romance. “Holmes is as inhuman as a Babbage’s calculating machine and just about as likely to fall in love.” This “inhumanity” is less a commentary of Holmes’ emotional spectrum, and more a bemused observation that Holmes has like 0 interest in having The Sex with anyone. Leading to my next point…
Sherlock Holmes doesn’t hate people: I don’t know what the modern obsession is with having smart/clever character be these sardonic butt-holes with a disdain for the human race and how their brilliance is an excuse for any sardonic butt-holery they do. It is boring and lame, and Sherlock’s character falls prey to this A LOT. But here’s the thing, this guy does not hate people–he just doesn’t always exist to please them (at least in a Proper Victorian sensibility). Holmes does get emotionally involved all the time! He sympathetically listens to people’s stories, he comforts clients when he feels they need it. He is enraged at a man who flagrantly insults his wife, a step-father who abuses his daughters, he talks a woman down from suicide, defends another woman’s perceived infidelity, he even talks to a baby, and yes, it is the purest thing. He also keeps another companion when Watson moves on. Also, he and Mycroft get along? There’s literally a whole couple pages of them goofing off together and complimenting each-other.
“Finally he shook one of the dimpled fists which waved in front of him. ‘Good-bye, little man.’” (The Sussex Vampire)
“‘You must not fear,” said he soothingly, bending forward and patting her forearm. “We shall
soon set matters right, I have no doubt.’” (The Adventure of the Speckled Band)
Holmes doesn’t hate women???: Eyyrgh, ok so no bones about it, Sherlock Holmes is a product of his time. He says a lot of socially accepted “truths” about ladies–how they can’t be trusted, how they are silly, hair pins, etc. And that is annoying and wrong and we all can agree on that, I think. However, he is always civil to women, and rarely talks over or belittles them–ESPECIALLY when he knows they are being abused or in distress. Also, Irene Adler humbled him Quite A Bit–and a lot of his previous overtures on women change through his experience with her and the other rad ladies he works with. I think he partly senses how systematically misused women are–and he is pretty quick to defend them (See: The Copper Beeches, The Lone Cyclist, The Veiled Lodger, The Speckled Band, The Greek Interpreter, The Dancing Men, Charles Augustus Milverton, The Yellow Face, The Sussex Vampire, among others). Maybe not, but he takes their side 9 times out of 10. Of course, he’s not interested in boinking any of them, so modern (male) writers get confused by this and mistake sexual disinterest for misogyny. :/
Also a big pain with me and the modern adaptations is that they change the narrative of the stories to make some of the lady characters awful/justify some shoe-horned in remark against womankind. I got particularly riled by the Brett version of The Greek Interpreter, where the girl (abused in the original book) is secretly in on the whole plot and Holmes sneers at her for heartlessly enabling the death of her faithful brother. Where the heck did this come from???? The book has a great ending (where the girl literally Stabs Her Abusers to death, and escapes the heck outta there), I just don’t get it. >:[ (They did this in the Hound of the Baskerville movie too. akjhfddk)
Anyway, I’ve rambled long enough! Thanks for asking!
The deleted drugs scene from TPLOSH: Holmes takes drugs because he's bored, and Watson fakes a case for him to investigate...
Damn you, Holmes. I hoped this would keep you occupied till Christmas.
Nice try, Watson. Rather primitive - but with some amusing detail.
(bitterly) Thank you.
You had me fooled for almost ten minutes.
I guess I'm not very bright.
No, but you're most endearing. No one could ask for a better friend.
Friend, indeed. The only reason you moved in with me is to have a steady supply of stimulants.
Now, now Watson - you mustn't underestimate your many other charms.
Holmes, I warn you. If you lock yourself in your bedroom again-
I intend to do nothing of the sort. Not until you replace this needle. It is getting rather blunt.
Mrs Hudson, I want you to pack my bags. I'm moving out.
I'm just as surprised as you are.
You heard me, Mrs. Hudson. And let's not waste any time.
May I be so bold as to ask where you're going?
I don't know yet. But I intend to resume my practice. I am, after all, a doctor. And a quite competent one, if I say so as shouldn't.
You'll find it very dull - snipping out tonsils and flushing out kidneys-
I will, of course, continue to pay half of the rent until you find someone to share these rooms with you.
Where am I going to find anyone who will put up with my rather eccentric habits?
(taking a needle and 3 bottles of narcotics out of his bag): Here's a fresh needle - and here's my farewell present to you. If you want to destroy yourself, go right ahead. But I won't sit by and watch you doing it.
(Watson goes into his bedroom, where Mrs. Hudson is packing.)
It's so sad. You and Mr. Holmes after all these years - I know how it feels - I once went through a divorce myself-
Actually, I'm rather looking forward to it. Leading a normal life again. Regular office hours - nine to three - and if occasionally there's an emergency call in the middle of the night, I know it's going to be appendicitis and not an ax murder. Let Holmes go mucking about in the fog and the sleet, looking for a bloodstained collar-button out on the moors, with some demented hound snapping at his behind-
(From the living room comes the sound of a pistol shot. Watson and Mrs Hudson burst into the room. Holmes has shot two of the three narcotics bottles on the mantlepiece.)
Mr. Holmes! How many times have I told you I will not tolerate pistol practice on the premises?
Please, Mrs. Hudson. You're in my line of fire.
(Mrs. Hudson moves. Holmes shoots the third bottle.)
Look at that mess you've made-
(gently) It's all right, Mrs. Hudson. I'll clean it up - while you unpack my things.
You heard him.
Thank you, Holmes. I know how difficult it must've been for you-
Not really. It was a simple choice between a bad habit and a good companion.
You've made me very happy.
I've often been accused of being cold and unemotional. I admit to it. And yet, in my own cold, unemotional way, I'm very fond of you, Watson.
I know that. But one likes to hear these things occasionally. For a while there, I was worried that you were going to let me walk out - that you weren't even going to stop me.
Now, Watson - you know there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you here.
(Holmes sneakily closes his violin case - where the three real bottles of narcotics are.)
The first thing Graham would notice when entering his office, is probably the mess that surrounds it: there are six cups of coffee on the desk he’s seated behind (none is actually finished, the very last sip left in every mug), around them are piles of papers, all scattered around and some piled up in a way that’s far from organized. There are files on the floor, close to the book shelf (as if he had picked them up, found something that suit his interest better, and let them fall), and one of the chairs he would normally offer to one of his visitors instead used as a leg rest instead.
Outside his office, are people waiting to be let inside - more complaints than he’d care to deal with (especially at 9 in the morning and on a Monday), and two redheads who seem to be keeping them under check, both seem rather professional, though if Will looks closely at the taller one - the one with a short bob cut - he would be able to tell that there is something off about her, and another glance would probably lead him to believe that she must be FRIDAY, assuming he had gone over Tony’s files before dropping by at his office, which would make her (its?) companion Mary Jane Watson. FRIDAY would be the first one to approach him, followed closely by Miss Watson who’d supply him with the (very obvious) information that Mr. Stark is, in fact, busy, and cannot see him at the moment. Nothing that a flash of his badge won’t be able to solve, and, despite FRIDAY’s further insistence, he’d eventually be allowed through the doors.
“I guess we’re just ignoring orders now altogether,” Tony rolls his eyes upon Will’s entrance, not bothering to move from his current position, though his eyes do glance over to him when he steps forward, as if he had just figured something out, and his next statement is enough evident that he probably had. “Ah. I see,” left side of his lips - the side from Will - curves upwards in a rather cynical manner, “FBI, huh? Let me guess: SHIELD’s finally gave up on dealing with my bullshit.”
The Miss Fisher Au
• Stiles as Phryne, an independently wealthy 20s party kid, but also a rediculously smart private detective and thorn in the side of the lead Inspector. Like jeeves and Wooster all rolled into one.
• Derek as Jack, the lead Inspector who is actually competent, thank you very little, dryly sarcastic and a bit growly. Cynical but only because he was a hopeless romantic who has Seen Some Shit. Constantly arrests Stiles for breaking and entering and interfering with a crime scene, but never fully presses charges
• Scott as Hugh, the inexperienced but keen constable with a strong set of morals
• Kira as Dot, the sweet, smart companion (dr watson) to Stiles.
• Erica and Boyd as Bert and Yates, two taxi-drivers and street smart everymen who take side jobs from Stiles
• Lydia as Mac, the fierce and brilliant doctor friend of Stiles who helps in identifying causes of death, especially poisons and toxins
The How to Make a Million AU
Peter is a famous art collector who occasionally sells pieces for millions at auction. Except everything he sells are his own counterfits. He’s a brilliant artist and proud of his work and nothing makes him smuger than having the masses admire his work.
Derek wishes Peter would stop selling the damn things because honestly they’ve got enough money and he doesn’t really want to see his uncle in jail.
Derek catches Stiles breaking and entering thier house, trying to steal one of the paintings. He reluctantly lets Stiles go without pressing charges because he doesn’t want the police to discover it’s a fake.
Peter, at the height of his hubris, loans one of his counterfits to be displayed at the museum, only to find that the museum is going to be doing an inspection of the work for insurance liability. Thier only chance is to steal it from the museum. Fortunately Derek now knows an art thief.
Except Stiles is actually a private detective hired to investigate Peter’s collection ,but Derek is so pretty that he comes up with a clever heist to help him anyway.
This heist conviently involves the two of them hiding in a closet in the museum for hours.
Sherlock Holmes and his lovely companion John Watson <3<3<3. They are so cute together. This show was pretty good and I really enjoyed the modern twist it had. I still need to watch season 3 though. That is something I have to fix asap, this weekend would be a good time for that!
Each poster has a quote on it. The pipe says ‘I love you’, the violin says ‘Alone is what I have. Alone protects me’ but this was interesting..
The quote this time was on the top left hand corner, however there is writing on the wood itself, like in the other posters before it.
So I looked closely at this and noticed the date…. 27/07/1880.
A quick google search into what happened that day gave me this result…
The battle of Maiwand according to Wikipedia is the battle in which John Watson is wounded and invalided home, before meeting Sherlock. It is quoted below:
“The fictional Doctor Watson, companion of Sherlock Holmes, was wounded in the Battle of Maiwand (as described in the opening chapter of A Study in Scarlet). He may have been based upon the 66th regiment’s Medical Officer, Surgeon Major Alexander Francis Preston.”
Sole makes a big mistake that nearly costs an innocent person their life. They're so beside themselves with anger at that they go berserk and start breaking things, hurting themselves in the process. What do the romanced companions (plus Nick, Deacon, and Maxson please!!!) do??
Ohh we have a Maxson lover among us. I hope I do good.
Cait - She isn’t a stranger to uncontrollable anger herself but she wouldn’t get angry over ALMOST killing a civilian, it was normally Sole that gets angry at her for not caring. She found it foolish to get angry over something like a stranger almost dying. Sole didn’t agree with this and would often give her the silent treatment on occasion when she came close to killing someone innocent. This was the first time that Sole had done something to almost kill someone, they had made a massive mistake and they couldn’t deal with the thought of someone dying unnecessarily. They began to storm around the settlement breaking things as they go. At first she just let them do it thinking that letting Sole get their anger out would help but when she heard a massive crash she knew something serious had happened. She ran to Sole’s side to find them sitting in the corner with their face buried in their knees, crying with frustration, bleeding from a small wound. There was glass surrounding them, making it obvious that Sole had smashed a glass, injuring themselves in the process. She brushed the glass away from sole and sat down beside them. A small murmur came from Sole ‘’ Go away, you don’t care about this type of stuff’’’. These words coming from Sole struck her like a knife. She wrapped her arms around Sole and pulled them close into her chest as they sobbed. ‘’ I care about you and anything that hurts you, I love you’’. These words seemed to calm Sole as their sobbing seemed to slow and become more calm. They sat there with her arms around Sole in the quiet just being close to one another.
Curie - She hated seeing Sole feeling any type of negative emotion and today was particularly bad. They had made a mistake which nearly cost an innocent person their life which distressed both Sole and her. She herself was just sad over the thought of an innocent person nearly losing their life but Sole was upset and angry. They were going around the settlement breaking things which made her anxious. Every smash and crack noise made her jump and agitated her just that little bit more. She was following Sole around as they went on there rampage, repeatedly asking them to stop, that breaking things wont do anything good. Sole finally stopped when the smashed something and injured themselves whilst doing it. Curie immediately came to their aid and as she was cleaning their wound it was clear Sole was thinking about their actions. They looked her in the eyes and said ‘’I’m so sorry, Curie. I love you’’. She replies ‘’ Je t'aime aussi
.’’ They hug until they both feel better about the whole situation.
Paladin Danse - As a solider he is trained to keep emotions like anger to himself and he almost expected the same from Sole so when they go berserk over almost killing a civilian he was shocked. As a solider he was taught to be able to handle situations like civilian death but he’s thankfully never had to use that area of his training. He wasn’t sure how to deal with Sole as they marched around breaking things. When they went a bit too far when they broke something and injured themselves in the process he ran over to their side and asked if they were O.K again and again. Sole just buried themselves into his chest whilst sobbing quietly. After they were sat down on the ground and Sole was safely in his arms he said ‘’ I love you, Solider’’. He felt their smile against his chest.
Deacon - He has become so used to hiding his own emotions that when it comes to dealing with other peoples he often stumbles. When Sole made a mistake that nearly cost a innocent person their life they broke down. He tried to make jokes to cheer them up and after a couple it was obvious that it wasn’t working but in fact was making them more angry. They started to break things in the room until the injured themselves on one of the objects as it shattered. They dropped to the floor in pure frustration and began apologizing in between sobs and deep wheezing breaths. He walked over to them and took their hands in his. ‘’ Hey, it’s alright. No one was hurt…. well I guess you were kinda hurt but expect from you no one was hurt. ‘’ They looked up at him with tears in their eyes and smiled. ‘’ I love you, Deacon’’. He smiled back at them and took them in his arms. ‘’ I know and you know that I love you too’’.
John Hancock - When Sole started breaking things after almost killing someone accidentally he panicked. He knew that this would led to them getting hurt as he’s been in this situation once or twice before. He tried to get them to stop and kept telling them that no one died, everything was alright. They wouldn’t listen and just kept breaking things until eventually they broke something that wounded them as it smashed against floor. He ran over to them nursing their wounds whilst offering them sweet words of comfort. As he was nursing them, Sole leaned into him and gave him a kiss. They had been romantically involved for a while now but every time they kissed him he was still shocked that someone as beautiful as them would want a ghoul like him. They sat in each others presence just happy to be with each other.
MacCready - He hated to seeing Sole in pain, physical or emotional so when they make a mistake that almost cost an innocent person their life they ended up experiencing both when they walked around breaking things around them and injured themselves on one of the things they broke. He ran over to them and gave them all the hugs. He tried his hardest to clean their wounds all though he wasn’t the best at anything medical. Sole was still sobbing but the hugs seemed to be helping them feel better. Once they had stopped crying they whispered ‘’ I love you RJ ‘’ ‘’ I love you more’’ He whispers back to them.
Nick Valentine - As a reasonably sensible synth he knew that when Sole starts breaking things around the room that they would get hurt eventually. He knew that Sole’s mistake was tearing them apart inside and it hurt him to watch them do that to themselves. He wrapped his arm around them and whispered words of soothing to them. They calm down soon enough and Sole says to him ‘’ What did I do to deserve you, Nick?’’ ‘’ I could ask you the same thing, Kid’’ He simply replies.
Piper Wright - When Sole felt pain, she felt pain with them. She felt their pain over their mistake they made and it was hurting her just as much as them. When Sole broke something and got hurt whilst doing it, she broke down in tears along with Sole. She ran over to them and took them in her arms and they sat there for a while just sobbing into each other. The became happy by just being next to each other.
Preston Garvey - When Sole hurt themselves on something whilst breaking it in a frustration fueled rampage he panicked. He hated to see his General and Lover tearing themselves up like this. He soothed them until they felt better and they exchanged loving words with each other.
X6-88 - He didn’t like seeing them like this and knew that it would lead to them hurting themselves. Once they did end up getting hurt he walked over to them and wrapped their wounds. ‘’ Ma’am/Sir, Please stop this, I don’t want you to get hurt anymore.’’ He’s not really into hugs but when Sole hugs him he doesn’t back off he just lets it happen and even hugs back hoping that it will make them feel better.
Maxson - He wanted all of his soldiers to be strong and to be able to handle stressful situations and if any other Soldier in the Brotherhood and broke down and started breaking things he would punish them but this was someone he cared about. He didn’t want to punish them for not being able to handle almost killing a civilian. He felt sorry for them and wanted to make them feel better. He didn’t appreciate them breaking things but he knew they had to let some anger out. Once they hurt themselves on something and collapsed to the ground in frustration he helped them back up and took them in his arms. He hugged them tight before taking of his coat and putting it around them. He walked them to the nearest medic and as they sat down on the medics bench, he gave them a kiss before telling the doctor to take extra special care of them.
This is an extra one because I’m feeling extra generous.
blinks blearily and peels open their eyes, squinting in the harsh light as the
world around them slides into focus. Everything is muzzy and confused. Their
head throbs, and they try to think back to how they ended up like this.
Work. They had been at work. At
their desk. It had been a late night, working on coming up with clever captions
for all those new gifs that the interns had made. They had had a quick
bite–just a sandwich–and then they must have fallen asleep at their desk.
Blob’s head jerks up, looking
around worriedly to see if the bosses had noticed, but the sight that greets
them is not at all the one they expect. They’re still at their desk, but
instead of the sleek, modern, glass-and-metal design that serves as their home
away from home, the desk is a dark, wooden monstrosity, heavy, with ornately
carved legs. Instead of their computer, there’s a typewriter and a ream of
crisp paper, and Blob wonders for a moment how on earth anyone gifs things on
those. (And how exactly is a poor armless blob supposed to type on that, too?)
Instead of the comfort and quiet of their small cubicle, there’s the chaos and
noise of a large open space full of employees, everyone rushing to and fro in a
whirl of papers, set to a soundtrack of the steady clack clack clack of fingers
on typewriters keys.
What is this place? Blob stands and walks toward the nearest group of people, unsure
if they know anyone here or not. But wait. There’s Brian, sitting at the desk
by the window like normal. Except… Why on earth is he dressed like that? It
takes a lot of convincing for the Brian that Blob knows to even wear a shirt, much
less one with starched collars. Or a tie. Or a waistcoat. And is that a
pocketwatch? And when did Brian grow that ridiculous moustache?
A quick glance around reveals
that everyone is dressed similarly to Brian. Is today some kind of fancy dress
day? Hipster day perhaps? Blob tries to remember if they had seen this on the
office calendar. Bring a meme to work day is coming up of course–an annual
favorite–but Blob doesn’t remember anything like this.
Gathering their nerve and trying
to look as if they’re only maybe half as confused as they feel, they approach
the desk cautiously. “Brian?”
Brian doesn’t move; he just keeps
working, which is odd because Brian normally does as little work as possible.
“Brian, what’s going on?” Blob
asks a bit louder, but still Brian doesn’t respond. He just keeps scribbling
furiously on the paper on his desk.
“Brian,” Blob repeats again,
nearly yelling. “What’s happening? Is this some kind of weird party?” Still
Brian doesn’t look up, and Blob, irritated at being ignored, tries to give him
a sharp nudge with their shoulder, but where there should be solid flesh over
muscle and bone, Blob only feels air. Trying again, they watch horrified as
their futile attempt at contact fails, their orange shoulder sliding right
through Brian’s elbow as if it weren’t even there. “BRIAN!” they scream,
standing quite literally in his face, which would probably be considered rude
if Blob weren’t so immaterial at the moment. When Brian simply sneezes and
scribbles on, Blob begins to think that something has gone very wrong.
Something has gone very wrong
indeed. Blob ducks and runs as shots ring out, dodging a hansom cab as they
flee. There’s no time to think, only to run.
Blob had just wanted to
understand what was happening, so they had wandered out into the streets of an
eerily unfamiliar London. It was the same street, but it had been re-paved with
cobblestones, and everything and everyone around looked as if they had been
transported here from the set of BBC’s new, sure-to-be-a-hit drama Dickensian. There were gas-lamps and horse-drawn carriages, men with walking
sticks and top hats, women with full skirts and puffed-up sleeves. All these
people around and no one seemed to notice the lonely, confused blob wandering
the streets, mouth agape and eyes popping. It was as if they weren’t there, and
occasionally, someone would even walk right through them. It was a curious
sensation only in that there was no sensation at all–Blob couldn’t feel a
thing when others passed through them, and they wondered if this was what it
was like to be a ghost.
They had wandered aimlessly, lost
in the hustle and bustle of this otherworldly London. Then suddenly, there had
been a familiar voice. “Come, Watson, come.”
Could it be?
It could! Blob turned the corner
and there stood Sherlock Holmes and his trusty companion Doctor John Watson.
They looked as if they had stepped straight out of that most recent batch of
gifs and into Blob’s life. Watson’s moustache was even more glorious in person,
if Blob did say so themself. And they did. Or at least they tried to. But as
with their attempts to talk to Brian, their attempts at complimenting Watson’s
perfect moustache also went unnoticed. (If they had fingers, they would have
tried to twirl it, too, but alas, Blob had been cursed with a fingerless existence.)
But the lack of response had given Blob an idea. If no one could hear them and
no one could see them, perhaps they could follow Holmes and Watson around
unnoticed. It was worth a try.
And so Blob had spent their
entire day wandering around in Holmes and Watson’s wake. There had been a
murder, and so Blob had been able to check out the crime scene with them,
watching as they worked, listening to Holmes’ rapid-fire deductions and
Watson’s ebullient praise. The crime scene had looked familiar, and Blob
realized that they had seen it before. Oh! Somehow they had actually stepped into the
Sherlock special! Their excitement grew then, and they bounded off after Holmes
and Watson, taking in every detail of their adventure, not wanting to miss a
second. And oh my, what an adventure it had been. The things Blob had seen. It
had been enough to nearly turn an orange blob white.
When Holmes and Watson had solved
the case (the key clue to it all had, oddly enough, been a half-eaten baguette)
and retired back to Baker Street, Blob had decided to try to make their way
back home because it seemed too weird to creep into someone else’s home when
they didn’t know you were there. Some of their tumblr friends might try it, but
Blob liked to consider themself a more respectable blob than that.
And so Blob had turned for home,
unsure if their home even still existed in this version of London, wandering
through unfamiliar familiar streets, when suddenly a woman appeared on a
balcony overhead, pulled out two shiny pistols, and started firing.
Blob isn’t certain whether or not
bullets have an effect on someone in their state, but now isn’t the time to
find out. They bob and weave, looking for a place to hide. Aha! A bakery. Surely that should be safe. Blob runs straight through the open door and
ducks for cover underneath the window display, carefully hidden behind rows and
rows of bread. It’s the safest place they can imagine to hide because,
honestly, who shoots bread?
The window shatters as two
bullets pierce the soft loaves, slicing through them like knives (well, like
bullets actually, but knives sounds more poetic in Blob’s head), and
penetrating right to Blob’s core. Blob doesn’t feel it, but they start to bleed
all the same, their lifeforce pooling at their non-feet. They try to scream for
help, but everyone is oblivious to their plight. The darkness creeps in as Blob
pulls in shuddering breaths, their last thoughts that they’re glad they at
least got to find out what happens in the special before they died.
Blob wakes with a start, shaking
their head to clear it and looking around to find Brian standing in the doorway
of their cubicle.
“Brian! I had the strangest
“I know,” Brian replies with a
disappointed sigh, grabbing the remainder of Blob’s sandwich and tossing it in
“What? How could you–”
“You were screaming about the
bread,” Brian says, stepping aside so that two bulky security officers can
slide into Blob’s cubicle.
“Blob, we need you to come with
us,” bulky man #1 says as bulky man #2 grasps Blob firmly and guides them
toward the exit.
“What? Why?” Blob wriggles in
their panic, but bulky man #2 just tightens his grip. “Brian, what’s going on?”
Blob calls back over their shoulder.
“You know too much, Blob.” He
shakes his head sadly. “You know about the bread.”
“I don’t know anything!” Blob
screams as bulky men #1 and #2 drag them through the exit and down the stairs.
“I don’t know anything about bread!” The two men carry them farther and farther
down, their plodding footsteps echoing Blob’s doom. When they pass the door to
the ground floor, Blob finally realizes where they’re taking them. “No! Not the
basement! There’s no wifi in the basement! Nooooooooo!”
“Exactly,” says bulky man #1 as
he unlocks the basement door. “We can’t have you warning anyone about the
bread–that’s the key to it all. To the special. To the whole show, don’t you
see? The baguette. The loafy window display. Even your sandwich. It’s all about
the bread. And down here you can tweet, liveblog, post, update all day long,
and no one will ever read any of it. You won’t be able to tell a single soul.”
Bulky man #2 shoves Blob inside,
laughing maniacally and closing the door, leaving Blob with only these ominous
parting words and never-ending darkness: “In the
basement, no one can even hear you stream.”
I was watching this one quiz show the other day and neither of those two people participating knew the answer to the question “what is the first name of Sherlock Holmes’ companion Watson?“ One of them said it’s James, the other said nothing basically, I mean, I thought this was general knowledge… then again, not even ACD had bothered to remember Watson’s first name