When Mr. Brett tried to consult Mr. Holmes… (just a fantasy, y’all)

I have just been digging through my archive and came across this… a few lines from the age of my hardcore fangirling days, namely swooning about the one and only Jeremy Brett – and Sherlock Holmes, the character he used to play so marvelously. This is actually an unfinished draft for a piece of parody I’d attempted, and will probably only mean anything to those people who are VERY familiar with the Granada Sherlock Holmes series as well as at least some JB interviews and/or biography, oh, yes, and a little nod to the community of H/W shippers… To everyone else, it is probably very much non-sensical. Posting this here for old times’ sake.

~~~

It’s Baker Street, early morning. Yes, Baker Street indeed, and Jeremy is looking quite incapable to believe it. He is also looking almost frightened out of his wits. Hastily turning around as if hearing something threatening approaching…

JB:

(agitated) Omigod! They’re coming… (frantically pounding on the door) LET ME IN! For Heaven’s sake, LET ME IN!

The door opens. An elderly lady stands before him, and she is cleary not amused.

Mrs. H.:

Good Heavens, Sir! You have roused me! What is the matter?

JB:

Please, I need help!! You must protect me!

Mrs. H.:

Sure, you WILL need protection indeed, if you confront Mr. Holmes before he has even had his early morning cigarette. But do come in, Sir, if you insist. Now that you have roused me so rudely, I can retort on Mr. Holmes as well.

JB:

QUICK! Or else they will detect me!

Mrs. H.:

So do come in. And mind the 17 steps.

JB:

17? You’ve counted the steps?

Mrs. H.:

(shooting him a look) Sir, this is Sherlock Holmes’ household. I have learned not only to look, but also to observe!

JB:

Well… I am impressed.

Mrs. H.:

This way, if you please. Pray wait in the sitting room, I will get the gentlemen. By the way, whom shall I announce?

JB:

The name is Huggins, Jeremy Huggins.

Mrs. H.

Very well, Sir. (leaves him)

JB enters the room rather tentatively. It is only halfway lit, but you can notice a mess of scattered papers on the floor, tables and chairs. There seems to be something soothing about this room, and a strange déjà-vu in all this. Suddenly we hear a little snorting noise, causing nervous JB to almost jump out of his skin.

JB:

Aaargh! Nooooo!

A face, very indignantly, appears above the edge of the couch’s backrest.

Holmes:

MRS. ORINOCO!! I wonder if you would do me the very great kindness of considering the possibility… the heck with it, just GO AWAY!

JB:

Orinoco? No, my name is Huggins, and I am generally considered to be a MISTER. Beyond that I really do need your advice, Mr. Holmes!! I am in serious trouble, as you might already know.

A sudden flash of daylight as Dr. Watson over-dramatically pulls back the curtains from the window.

Holmes:

(apparently having slept on the couch and looking rather wrinkled up, mumbling something about the theatrical part usually being HIS department) Oh, should I, indeed? I do not think so. I am sorry, my dear Sir. I can assure you, apart from the obvious facts that you are an actor and that you do a lot of meditation, I know nothing about you.

JB:

(looking utterly taken aback) So you DO know me after all?

Holmes:

(yawning) Not in the least, it was a simple deduction: Only an actor could be eccentric enough to wear such bright red socks to a semi-formal morning suit. Speaking about formalities, I must beg you to excuse the state of our surroundings as well as our slightly deranged attire. We have been just closing a rather complicated case last night and must have fallen asleep here. This is my good friend and colleague Dr. Watson, you can feel free to speak openly to him as well as to me. Which brings me to the question, in which way we may be of your assistance? Please, take a seat. I perceive your fingers are shaking, are you feeling cold?

JB:

No, Mr. Holmes. My hands are shaking from fear. TERROR, to be exact!

Holmes:

Oh! And why is that so?

JB:

I am being stal- (suddenly interrupting himself) How could you have possibly guessed that I practice meditation?

Holmes:

I NEVER guess, Mr. Huggins.

JB:

But how do you know…?

Watson steps forward and points at Jeremy’s feet.

Watson:

Levitation, Sir. Your shoes do not even touch our Persian carpet.

Holmes:

Quite so. Mrs. Orinoco will be quite obliged to you on that account.

JB:

Mrs. Orinoco?

Holmes:

Yes, our good housekeeper.

Watson:

(frowning) That’s Mrs. HUDSON, Holmes!

Holmes:

Oh, really? Well, I knew at least it had something to do with the name of a river… Never mind, who could possibly keep up with all those names? There is this guy, Conan the Barber…

JB:

I beg your pardon?

Holmes:

No, I mean, Conan… (tentatively) the Barbarian…?

Watson:

I assume you are referring to Conan DOYLE!

Holmes:

Ah, Doyle, of course! This Conan, anyway, he has difficulties in remembering her name, too. He sometimes calls her “Turner”… (suddenly turning impatient) But if you would condescend to tell us about your problem, I shall be better able to advise you. I recall you claiming the matter to be an urgent one!

JB:

Yes, that is true. Mr. Holmes, they’re after me! Have you not read the latest news on the internet?

Holmes:

No, not this morning. So, let us at least consult my index!

Watson:

(searching) I can not find any “Huggins” in here, Holmes…

JB:

Oh! I am sorry I forgot, you’ll have to look under “B” for “Brett”. That is my stage name.

Holmes:

Brett, indeed! I believe I we used to have a tailor with that name… right, Johnny?

Watson:

Pray Holmes! Would you please stop calling me that way?

Holmes:

Oh, come on, we’ve been sharing these rooms for decades now. You even know how I look in a nighty! Why won’t you allow me to call you by your first name?

Watson:

My first name is “John”, Holmes! And that is such a common name! Everybody is called John these days.

Holmes:

No, not me, they call me “Sherlock”.

Watson:

No, Holmes, they call you “Holmes”!

Holmes:

Hm. How about “Bosie”?

Watson:

WHAT?

Holmes:

Well, as a nickname. For Boswell.

Watson:

Are you trying to be funny?

Holmes:

Funny? No, that’s supposed to be your part.

Watson:

(now getting somehow upset) No, it’s NOT! You’re talking about this other guy, Nigel Whatshisname! I AM A MEDICAL MAN! I AM TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY!!

Holmes:

(placatingly) Oh, all right.

JB:

(slightly irritated about new change of topic) Errr… Gentlemen, I am sorry to interrupt, but I happen to have this URGENT problem…!

(T.b.c.)

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