(Holmes' living room. Sherlock Holmes is sitting in a chair reading a newspaper. Watson enters. Part of the stage is darkened.)

WATSON: Hello, good friend. How are you doing today?

HOLMES: I am doing fine.

(Lowers book.)

HOLMES: I can see that you on the other hand are not as fortunate.

WATSON: Alright then, Sherlock, what happened to me?

HOLMES: I can tell that your son flunked third grade, your wife is leaving your clothes around the house, and your cat ate your socks.

WATSON: Exactly, Holmes, but how-

HOLMES: Beside all this, you stubbed your elbow against a tree repeatedly and had the stomach bug all last week.

WATSON: Yes! Now-

HOLMES: But that is not it. You were chased for at least five hours in the rain by a killer goat holding nachos before your life's savings were stolen by a woman disguised as a bicycle.

(Silence.)

HOLMES: Well, aren't you curious on how I found all this out?

WATSON: Yes. Please expound.

HOLMES: Pen in the shape of numbers in smeared all over your hands, no doubt from helping your son. They are faded though, meaning he has been expelled as you and I both know he will never be good enough to not need help. Your coat is exceedingly wrinkled from being left around, and your cat hair covered feet are bare.

HOLMES: (Sighs.) The rough hole in your elbow shows that wood rubbed it raw yesterday, and your weak eyes and slow speech are proof that you were sick, something I've noticed you do when getting over the flu.

(Silence.)

WATSON: As for the last part?

HOLMES: Oh, I read it in the newspaper. Here it is.

(Gives Watson the paper.)

WATSON: Amazing Holmes! I can't believe it!

HOLMES: Your simplicity baffles me, Watson, it was all there.

WATSON: I suppose you will now say, "Elementary, Watson."

HOLMES: No in fact.

WATSON: You won't?

HOLMES: That wasn't even elementary, Watson.

WATSON: W-what?

HOLMES: This case was so simple that it was not even elementary. It was pre-k, Watson. Pre-k!

(Stunned silence as Holmes gloats, and Watson is stunned.)

WATSON: (Slowly.) Sherlock. This is something I've been thinking about a lot...

HOLMES: That could be dangerous for someone as emotional as you, Watson.

WATSON: And I think that perhaps you and I need to have a little talk.

HOLMES: Look, Watson, I know your wife snores and your job is lame, but don't take it out on someone like me.

WATSON: (Frustrated.) That's not it! Sherlock, I think-

HOLMES: Look, Watson, we know who does the real thinking around here. Now, I have a case for us to work on-

WATSON: I am done with cases.

(Silence.)

HOLMES: What?

WATSON: I'm done. I am sick of you treating me like I'm some kind of moron! I am not your wingman! Good day, friend!

(He exits.)

(Holmes sighs.)

HOLMES: And he would have loved this one too... Not that it bothers me! I'm a man of reason, not emotions!

(Holmes rises and walks a little. Barbara enters. The dark part of the stage lights up. Mark is lying there. Mark should be lying on the ground. His stomach should be exposed with marker drawn on his stomach. His tongue is hanging out. Every once in a while he jolts or shifts, clearly alive.)

(Barbara looks at Holmes and then around him as she speaks, clearly looking for Watson.)

BARBARA: Thanks for coming, Mr. Holmes. As you can see my cousin-

(Notices Watson is not there.)

Um... where is...

HOLMES: (Annoyed.) Where is who?

BARBARA: Nothing... I was just expecting someone. Alrighty, then. My cousin and I run this arts and crafts store. He was murdered last night while tending the shop alone.

HOLMES: Have you called the police?

BARBARA: And have them worry about me? Of course not!

HOLMES: (Suspicious.) He is surprisingly fresh and clean for somebody who died last night.

BARBARA: (Ignoring him.) Look, his stomach was cut open.

HOLMES: (More suspicious.) He looks like he was stabbed to death with a marker.

BARBARA: (Fake surprised.) Pos-ib-ly! Why, Sherlock, you are a real... Sherlock, aren't you?

HOLMES: (Coming close to the body.) I think-

BARBARA: Get him, Mark!

(Mark grabs Holmes and forces him into a chair before tying him up. Holmes struggles and nearly succeeds, but Barbara pulls out a gun and points it at him. He lets Mark tie him up.)

HOLMES: So, you don't want me to solve the case. You wanted me.

BARBARA: (Russian/German/Norwegian accent from Mexico.) That's right, Holmes.

HOLMES: And what are you going to do with me?

BARBARA: (Russian/German/Norwegian accent from Mexico.) What am I going to do with you? (Laughs evilly.) Sherry – you don't mind if I call you that do you? no matter – do you know how many fan girls you even have?

HOLMES: (Stunned.) Excuse me?

BARBARA: (Russian/German/Norwegian accent from Mexico.) At this very moment, thousands, perhaps millions of women all charmed by your cold reasoning skills are in love with you. Madly so! Isn't that right, Mark?

MARK: (Henchman voice.) That's right!

BARBARA: (Russian/German/Norwegian accent from Mexico.) Do you know how much you would go for on E-bay? Finally! No more student loan debt!

MARK: (Henchman voice.) That's right!

BARBARA: (Russian/German/Norwegian accent from Mexico.) I was going to sell you and Watson, a two for one deal, that way we could pay off Mark's tuition too. Apparently, though, he's out of the business.

(Watson suddenly burst in with a gun.)

WATSON: Stop!

(Points gun.)

I'm armed! And I'm not afraid to use it!

MARK: (Normal voice.) That wasn't predictable at all!

BARBARA: (Russian/German/Norwegian accent from Mexico.) Mark! Don't get out of accent on the job! And what are you doing here Watson? Why are you even here?

WATSON: I knew he was here because-

BARBARA: (Russian/German/Norwegian accent from Mexico.) No, I mean, in this series. You're useless. You play wingman to a super genius, having no use other than to compliment him and make him look good. You're like his trophy wife!

HOLMES: Now, wait a minute, Miss Barracuda. Watson here may be a college graduate that never made it past working for a gas station while I'm practically Bill Gates, but that does not mean you can talk to him like that! He plays an important part in this series. He keeps me from manipulating innocent children, overeating on the weekends, and being a total jerk. He's not my wingman. He's my shoulder angel!

WATSON: Amen! And look here Miss Barbara.

(Two policemen enter.)

WATSON: You're going to be behind bars... for a long time.

(The policemen grab Barbara and Mark and drag them off.)

BARBARA: (Russian/German/Norwegian accent from Mexico.) You haven't seen the last of me, fools! I will sell you on E-bay! Or Amazon!

POLICEMAN: Calm down, sister.

(They exit.)

(Watson unties Holmes.)

HOLMES: How did you know I was here, Watson?

WATSON: Simple, Holmes, when you said it was a place I would enjoy, I assumed it would be the place that used to be my first doctor's office, which is now this small abomination.

HOLMES: Hey, it could be worse. Could have been a McDonalds.

WATSON: Don't say that! Copyright and licensing.

HOLMES: Sorry. Well, you did pretty well on your own, Watson.

WATSON: Why, it was elementary, Holmes, my dear.

(He pats Holmes on the head and exits. Holmes stands there stunned.)

(The stage darkens.)

The End