Sherlock Holmes' Birthday
It was January 6th, 1894.
Sherlock Holmes was celebrating his 40th birthday in his residence at 221B Baker Street, London.
His housekeeper Mrs. Hudson had made roast beef and yorkshire pudding for two.
But damn it, where was Watson?
Watson said he had gone out to buy a bottle of the best claret for the celebration.
But had Watson gone all the way to France to buy the best claret?
Holmes decided to start eating the roast beef and yorkshire pudding on his own.
When suddenly the door opened...
... but it was not Watson who stood there...
it was THE woman...
... Irene Adler...
... she stood there wearing a lovely green evening dresss... very low-cut...
"Are you surprised to see me, Mr. Holmes?" Irene Adler asked.
Holmes dropped his fork.
"What are you speechless, Mr. Holmes?" she approached the world's first and greatest consulting detective.
"I deduce... you are here to give me a birthday present," Holmes approached her.
Irene Adler got down on her knees.
"I use my mouth for more than just singing," the popular singer of opera and stage stated.
Holmes dropped his trousers.
* * *
"Lestrade, Lestrade, what the Hell are you doing?" the deep masculine voice shouted, "Irene is giving me her birthday present. Stop it, Lestrade!".
The black Labrador dog named Lestrade got off Lord Tweedsmuir.
For today January 6th was Sherlock Holmes' birthday and Lord Tweedsmuir had been dreaming that he was Sherlock Holmes on his 40th birthday back on January 6th, 1894.
"Out Lestrade, out!" Lord Tweedsmuir commanded.
The vampiress songstress Angelique Dumont entered the room wearing a low-cut white nightgown.
"Lestrade has disturbed your sleep, your Lordship?" Angelique smiled.
"Indeed," Lord Tweedsmuir harrumphed, "I had been having a most pleasant dream. I had dreamed that I was Sherlock Holmes back on his 40th birthday on January 6th,1894 and the lovely and beautiful Irene Adler was giving me my birthday present."
"What a positively scandalous dream... and so bohemian," Angelique Dumont laughed a soft feminine laugh.
"That's very well put," Lord Tweedsmuir smiled.
"Irene Adler..." Angelique Dumont approached Tweedsmuir, "To Sherlock Holmes she is always THE woman. Have you ever thought about THE name of THE woman, Lord Tweedsmuir? That name... Irene Adler?".
"Irene Adler?" Lord Tweedsmuir repeated the name.
"Lord Tweedsmuir, how many steps separate us in your household? How many steps from my coffin in the basement to your bedroom up here?" Angelique Dumont put her soft feminine hand tenderly on Lord Tweedsmuir's shoulder.
"There are 39 steps exactly," Lord Tweedsmuir replied.
"Irene Adler..." Angelique whispered a soft delectable whisper in Lord Tweedsmuir's ear, "Irene is the Greek word for peace... and Adler... well... you know what an adler is don't you, Lord Tweedsmuir?... a snake... a serpent... in this year of 2007, Lord Tweedsmuir, do you think a snake... a serpent... will stand up... and proclaim a kingdom of PEACE for the world?"
The New Orleans vampiress pulled down Lord Tweedsmuir's pyjamas and went down on her knees.
"Angelique," Lord Tweedsmuir shrieked, "what sharp teeth you have."
* * *
Captain Robert Falcon Scott II stood on the deck of his boat the Discovery II and rubbed his eyes.
For he could not believe his eyes.
He thought he saw a giant snake... a giant serpent... emerge from the River Thames and head in the direction of the Houses of Parliament at Westminster.
On the bank of the Thames meanwhile, Amadeus Emanon (the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set's genetically cloned personal concert pianist and hired assasin) was following Japanese vampire huntress Moritaka Hayasawa down the street.
He had been ordered to spy on Miss Hayasawa by his boss.
Amadeus carefully took in every sway and swish of Miss Hayasawa's dark navy blue skirt as she walked. Every swish and sway over the back of her black leather boots.
Amadeus was enjoying this particular assignment most wholeheartedly.
Moritaka Hayasawa turned a corner.
Amadeus likewised turned the corner.
He suddenly felt the sharp edge of a silver dagger against his throat.
"Why are you following me?" Moritaka Hayasawa peered sharply into Amadeus' eyes.
* * *
Athena Guerrido wore a white blouse, a short tartan skirt, black silk nylons and black spiked stiletto heeled shoes.
She was drinking a glass of Lancaster Ale.
She sat across from Dracul Van Helsing in the Sherlock Holmes Pub and Restaurant on Rice Howard Way in Edmonton.
They were celebrating Sherlock Holmes' 153rd birthday.
"To Sherlock Holmes," Athena raised her glass of beer.
"To Irene Adler," Dracul raised his.
They clanked glasses and drank.
"So Christopher Dracul Alexander Van Helsing," Athena Guerrido gazed into his eyes, "who's your Irene Adler?"
To be continued.
Sherlock Holmes was celebrating his 40th birthday in his residence at 221B Baker Street, London.
His housekeeper Mrs. Hudson had made roast beef and yorkshire pudding for two.
But damn it, where was Watson?
Watson said he had gone out to buy a bottle of the best claret for the celebration.
But had Watson gone all the way to France to buy the best claret?
Holmes decided to start eating the roast beef and yorkshire pudding on his own.
When suddenly the door opened...
... but it was not Watson who stood there...
it was THE woman...
... Irene Adler...
... she stood there wearing a lovely green evening dresss... very low-cut...
"Are you surprised to see me, Mr. Holmes?" Irene Adler asked.
Holmes dropped his fork.
"What are you speechless, Mr. Holmes?" she approached the world's first and greatest consulting detective.
"I deduce... you are here to give me a birthday present," Holmes approached her.
Irene Adler got down on her knees.
"I use my mouth for more than just singing," the popular singer of opera and stage stated.
Holmes dropped his trousers.
* * *
"Lestrade, Lestrade, what the Hell are you doing?" the deep masculine voice shouted, "Irene is giving me her birthday present. Stop it, Lestrade!".
The black Labrador dog named Lestrade got off Lord Tweedsmuir.
For today January 6th was Sherlock Holmes' birthday and Lord Tweedsmuir had been dreaming that he was Sherlock Holmes on his 40th birthday back on January 6th, 1894.
"Out Lestrade, out!" Lord Tweedsmuir commanded.
The vampiress songstress Angelique Dumont entered the room wearing a low-cut white nightgown.
"Lestrade has disturbed your sleep, your Lordship?" Angelique smiled.
"Indeed," Lord Tweedsmuir harrumphed, "I had been having a most pleasant dream. I had dreamed that I was Sherlock Holmes back on his 40th birthday on January 6th,1894 and the lovely and beautiful Irene Adler was giving me my birthday present."
"What a positively scandalous dream... and so bohemian," Angelique Dumont laughed a soft feminine laugh.
"That's very well put," Lord Tweedsmuir smiled.
"Irene Adler..." Angelique Dumont approached Tweedsmuir, "To Sherlock Holmes she is always THE woman. Have you ever thought about THE name of THE woman, Lord Tweedsmuir? That name... Irene Adler?".
"Irene Adler?" Lord Tweedsmuir repeated the name.
"Lord Tweedsmuir, how many steps separate us in your household? How many steps from my coffin in the basement to your bedroom up here?" Angelique Dumont put her soft feminine hand tenderly on Lord Tweedsmuir's shoulder.
"There are 39 steps exactly," Lord Tweedsmuir replied.
"Irene Adler..." Angelique whispered a soft delectable whisper in Lord Tweedsmuir's ear, "Irene is the Greek word for peace... and Adler... well... you know what an adler is don't you, Lord Tweedsmuir?... a snake... a serpent... in this year of 2007, Lord Tweedsmuir, do you think a snake... a serpent... will stand up... and proclaim a kingdom of PEACE for the world?"
The New Orleans vampiress pulled down Lord Tweedsmuir's pyjamas and went down on her knees.
"Angelique," Lord Tweedsmuir shrieked, "what sharp teeth you have."
* * *
Captain Robert Falcon Scott II stood on the deck of his boat the Discovery II and rubbed his eyes.
For he could not believe his eyes.
He thought he saw a giant snake... a giant serpent... emerge from the River Thames and head in the direction of the Houses of Parliament at Westminster.
On the bank of the Thames meanwhile, Amadeus Emanon (the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set's genetically cloned personal concert pianist and hired assasin) was following Japanese vampire huntress Moritaka Hayasawa down the street.
He had been ordered to spy on Miss Hayasawa by his boss.
Amadeus carefully took in every sway and swish of Miss Hayasawa's dark navy blue skirt as she walked. Every swish and sway over the back of her black leather boots.
Amadeus was enjoying this particular assignment most wholeheartedly.
Moritaka Hayasawa turned a corner.
Amadeus likewised turned the corner.
He suddenly felt the sharp edge of a silver dagger against his throat.
"Why are you following me?" Moritaka Hayasawa peered sharply into Amadeus' eyes.
* * *
Athena Guerrido wore a white blouse, a short tartan skirt, black silk nylons and black spiked stiletto heeled shoes.
She was drinking a glass of Lancaster Ale.
She sat across from Dracul Van Helsing in the Sherlock Holmes Pub and Restaurant on Rice Howard Way in Edmonton.
They were celebrating Sherlock Holmes' 153rd birthday.
"To Sherlock Holmes," Athena raised her glass of beer.
"To Irene Adler," Dracul raised his.
They clanked glasses and drank.
"So Christopher Dracul Alexander Van Helsing," Athena Guerrido gazed into his eyes, "who's your Irene Adler?"
To be continued.
posted by Christopher @ 12:47 PM
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