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THE MISADVENTURES OF SIR SHERLOCK HOLMES
And his fabulous pet detective, Ace the Parrot
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It was a curiously hot Chicago morning and Holmes had next to nothing to do. He had his feet rested on his desk and was already getting himself quite comfortable in his leather seat - looking forward to a lunchtime of solitaire and an afternoon of waste-paper-basket basketball with Ace, who he had sent to get said burgers. He had found over the weeks he had been in Chicago, with both some common sense and that wonderful detective prowess he was renowned for, that if the phone did not ring in the morning, it would not ring in the afternoon or indeed throughout the rest of the day. Being as it had yet to ring so far, and, in fact, had not rang for the past ten years wherever his detective offices had been, he was quite confident this day would be very much the same.
The fact was, Holmes wasn't in much demand now. It was 1998 and villians were, quite simply, out of fashion. The sophisticated crime had been replaced with the two-bit hit: and Holmes wasn't very good with those. Still, the cheery fellow that he was, he considered this void of requests for help and calls for him to be because he had brought all evil to justice, not because the modern would was moving on without him and he was frankly a curiousity in it. In other words, he was wholly incapable of accepting the truth.
Holmes looked out of the window down onto the street. Cars were shooting past, people walking down outside the office block and getting on with their daily lives. He smiled slightly. He had contributed to this wonderful, peaceful city! Without people like him, without upstanding officers, he would never have had the chance to look upon this glistening utopia of peace, love, and, well, all that really. He continued to watch lazily as a king might upon his subjects, watching the almost antlike figures bustling around. Ah, lovely.
The door slammed and Holmes looked around. "Ah, Ace!" he said as the parrot flew into the room and dropped two McDonalds cases onto the desk. "Whatever took you so long, old fellow?"
Ace didn't reply. In fact, Ace went and perched on the window ledge and began preening himself.
"Nice, isn't it?" Holmes said unconcernedly as he unwrapped his burger, taking a bite and chewing lazily. Mmm.
Yes, the burger. Fasinating invention. Who was it that created it again? Holmes thought, watching Ace preen himself. Some American.
He wasn't really a fan of America, considering it just the means to his crime-busting ends, the (unfortunate) location of his offices. But there was one thing he did like about it. The burger. Ever the bastion of fatty, heart-busting delight, there was some strange carnal pleasure about these burgers. Maybe it was something they put in them. Maybe, he thought, in a sudden blast of inspiration, it was like sex! Yes, they put sex into these burgers. He had read something like that once.
"No you didn't," Ace said.
"Hm?" Holmes said with a mouthful of burger.
"You didn't read that."
"Well, then, what did I read?", Holmes said, swallowing the burger and coughing into his palm.
"You read about a disgruntled employee."
"Disgruntled employee? I say, old bean, what are you talking about?"
"It means an employee. Who is upset."
"Ah. I'm not really up-to-date on the terminology. That's your... what's it?"
"Court. That's your court."
"Yes, that's it. Your court. But what were you saying?"
"You read about a disgrunted employee who was basically, well. Doing things to the burgers."
"And that's why they taste so good?" Holmes asked, genuinely interested.
"Er...no," Ace said slowly, hopping around on the window ledge. "No. Not right," Ace said, shivering slightly.
"One moment," Holmes said, not as fast on the draw as he used to be. "How did you know?"
"Know what?" Ace said innocently.
"What I was thinking. I was thinking about burgers. I say! You're not...telepathic, are you?!" Holmes said. Despite what he kept telling himself, no detective work wasn't that exciting and he leapt at the chance to finally have some sort of plot twist in his life.
"No. You always ask me, though, 'why are burgers so good'. It's a wonder you didn't today. I was just cutting to the chase," Ace said.
"Cutting to the ch-"
"Nevermind," Ace said. "I'll be right back," he said, flying off the window ledge and down over the heads of the crowd.
Holmes looked at Ace's burger on the desk for a while. When he was suitably convinced that it was not going to eat itself, he unwrapped it and began eating. As he did so he took another look out the window, watching the parrot's departing figure and looking down at the crowds below. What a lovely place.
Yes. What a lovely, lovely place.
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The intention of this story was to make you wonder exactly what was going on. Or just make you think it sucked. Either way, hooray!~
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