Spurlock Holmes Chapter 9

Spurlock crossed his battered arms. "Ah, finally talking, are you?" Vincent brushed Spurlock aside, "Please, let me handle this." Spurlock gave a determined nod, and then backed away. Vincent squatted next to Tiffany and said, "Listen, I know you haven't done anything." He points to Holmes, "Just tell Spurlock that and he'll leave you alone." Tiffany looked up at him, "Really? Are you sure?" "Positive." Tiffany turned to Spurlock and said, "I didn't do any--" "LIAR!" Spurlock zoomed in her face. "I KNOW it was you! What other explanation is there for you to be having THIS?" He grabbed the M9 9mm Beretta pistol from Vince's hands and shook it in front of her. Vincent just stared in awe. "You mean, that wasn't yours, Mr. Holmes?" He took the gun from Spurlock, who shook his head. "As you can see, this little 'defenseless' girl had a BIG trick up her sleeve, one that only MY keen eye..." he pokes his own right eye, "...could have noticed." Vince wiped himself off with a handkerchief, "I must say, Spurlock, you never cease to surprise me. Well, if this is the case, little girl, please explain why you had an M9 9mm Beretta pistol in you possession." Spurlock joined in, shoving his own pistol up her nose, "Yeah! Talk or we'll load yer brains fulla--" "NO! Stop it! We're not going to kill her! Let's just hear what she has to say. Go ahead, young lady." Vince lifted Tiffany's head to find that she was fast asleep. Now Spurlock was angry. He shook her and then said, "I'm giving you 'til the count of 3 to say something useful!" He cocked his gun. "1..." Tiffany awoke and immediately spewed out information. "My father made me do it..." "Made you do what?" "Since we were little, my father would send us out on...errands." "What kind of errands?" "Errands like stealing things and stuff." Vince's eyes were wide, "What sort of things did you steal?" "Oh, just usually wallets, money, bread, clothes, $10,000 golden pocket watches that had been passed down for over 5 generations...nothing special." Vincent jumped back, throwing his handkerchief in the air. The handkerchief landed on Spurlock's cross-eyed face, causing him to fall backwards, his hat to fall off, and his gun to fire. *PTAOO!* Both Vincent and Tiffany yelped and ducked their heads, feeling a splash of water upon them. Vincent blinked, "Wha...what is this? Water?" Spurlock put his hat back on, pulled the handkerchief off of his face and handed it to Vincent, "I'm sorry you had to get caught in the fire, Greg. You should never cover a man's eyes when he's carrying a pistol! These sort of things can happen." "You mean, your pistol was...a squirtgun?" Spurlock nodded seriously. Vincent laughed, "That's just like you, Spurlock. I knew you couldn't harm a little girl." Spurlock looked confused as to why they weren't dying. "Oh, I see. Fortunately, it seems as though the water merely grazed you. Consider yourselves lucky, a couple inches closer and you'd have been goners." Vince stood up again, "Well, that's a relief." Vince realized that the gun he had in his own hand was a real one, and so he quickly stuffed it inside his coat. "Alright then, little girl. Please tell us where we can find your father." Tiffany pointed north with her foot and said, "Thataway. He lives in a place called 'Igor's Orphanage'. It isn't far from here." Vincent nodded fervently, "I see. What his name?" "Igor." "Well, that makes sense. Thank you very much, you have helped us greatly, little girl." Spurlock smiled, twirling his realistic-looking-and-sounding squirtgun like a cowboy and sticking it in a holster within his coat. "Yes, little girl, you've been a big help, and you are of no use to us anymore. Later!" Both Spurlock Holmes and Vincent Gregory skipped off north. "MY NAME'S TIFFANY YOU DOLTS! AND AREN'T YOU GOING TO UNTIE ME?" They were so far that they couldn't hear her.

Pikmin Strike

2nd Day

Blue: "Why, what a wonderful morning it is! WOOH!"
Olimar: "Why, yes, I most certainly agree. You are being most cooperative today!"
Blue: "But of course! You are he, the humanoid what plucked me from the ground, he who is my leader. WOOH!"
Olimar: "Ye be a rather bright little Pikmin! If I were to actually pay ye a salary, I'd probably give you a raise. But, then again, when ye died soon after, the money would be lost, and that would be just silly. Listen to me ramble! Back to work, Blue Slave!"
Blue: '>_> "Wooh!"

[Later, after another epic battle between the Pikmin and a provocative group of Bulborbs...]

Olimar: "Phew! All that pointing and ordering ye slaves around has gotten me pooped! I shall rest, and ye shall continue protecting my ship."
Blue: "Master, I have made an observation that you may wish to hear."
Olimar: "Ah, hast ye, lowly Blue Pikmin? Please, do bring this to my awareness."
Blue: "I have heard about creatures known as Doodlebugs, those which emit a poisonous gas that can suffocate Pikmin within seconds. As they pose a moderate threat to the welfare of our tribe, I would like to further investigate these monsters, as well as their whereabouts, to more capably protect my Master and his ship."
Olimar: "Hmm...ye hath convinced me that thine loyalties are with me, and thus, your wish be granted to ye."
Blue: "You will not regret this decision, Master."

[Back at Pikmin HQ, underneath the Blue Onion]

Blue 2: "What did he say? What did he say?"
Red: "He said I'm his favorite!!"
Blue: (smacks Red) "He gave us the OK, so we can now search for the Doodlebugs!"
Blue 2: "YAY!"
Yellow: "Wait, 'we'?"
Blue: "Feel free to join us, or sit back like a pee-colored coward."
Yellow 2: "You're on your own with this, because I know what you're up to, and it's just plain wrong."
Red 2: "Wait, 'we'??"
Blue 3: "Is there an echo in here?"
Blue: "I'm out, anyone who's coming with, follow me."
[10 Blues march out, and 1 Red]
Yellow: "Hold up! Red, why are you going?"
Red: "I'm going?? OH!! I don't wanna turn pee-colored.."
Yellows: ;<

Poems!

my Still Flower In Fall

...all around me burns new fire, these fires drive me insane. child entertainment. to me, and in my kind, they drain through the hole of my strife. what allows me the action to pray...strive. flames die, and my still flower in fall that remains...it means the girl to be. Dear me, i'm sinking...and searching...store all wishes: why bother dreaming of strife? Won't fate be, what it is...see; i still try, no matter what. Bet that i've wept my eyes...come all to see...they're everlasting, but they're a part of me....

I Fill not Hollow Stem

...wishes strong; every sting I caught I had run with, ill paid. Nevertheless, I drew out the pay I did... would I do that I loved? Or was I to fall inside these fires; preach a promise, teach a failure. I deserved these gains, but not any more. Hence, I fill not hollow stem, but deep root.

Spurlock Holmes Chapter 8

After running for some time, the girl became tired, and upon noticing her fatigue, Spurlock's muddied face broke into a familiar smirk. Eventually, she collapsed on the ground. Spurlock, nimble as ever, jumped in the air and landed perfectly on his feet, and after wiping off some mud, he reached for her. "Now, then..." he said. Vincent, who was nearing their location slowly but surely, heard her screams just ahead. He hurried his pace. "That Spurlock's gone too far this time. What would he *gasp* be doing with an M9 9mm Beretta pistol?" As he followed the drag marks to an empty parking lot, he spotted the little girl, tied to a tree. She was wriggling and struggling, but it was no use. Spurlock had won, and he now was standing in front of her, hands on his hips. "Now, tell me who you work for!" She started crying, "What are you talking about? I'm too young to work, don't *sniff* you *snort* know *gasp* about *snotty inhale* child labor laws?" Spurlock's glare turned from interrogative to sympathetic "Dohhh..." he said as looked away. He effortfully forced an angry expression, then turned back to her. Immediately, she stopped crying. He forced a heavy laugh, "Ah HAHAHAHAaa! You know when you've been beaten. Now answer me, or I will continue to laugh at your expense. Ah HAHAHAHAAA..." The little girl interrupted him with her own laughter "AHAHAAAAA HAHA...!" Thoroughly confused, Spurlock tried to maintain his intimidating expression. "What's so funny, you little monkey? Huh?" She pointed at him with her foot, "that face... HEH.. THAT FACE... HAhaa.. is completely RIDICULOUS!" Spurlock's fake angry expression transformed into a real one. " Why you little..." Before Spurlock could finish, he was on the ground once more; this time, a fatter man than he had tackled him. Spurlock glanced up to see Vincent, who was gasping for breath. Spurlock rolled him off, then patted him on the back, "GREG! What kept you? There is no time for dawdling when criminals are on the loose!" Vince peered around at the girl, who had put on a sad puppy face, then back at Spurlock, whose ruffled hair and dirtied cloak gave the illusion of a hobo. Vince shook his head in disgust. "Are you joking around, Mr. Holmes? Because I hardly find this funny..." Spurlock looked confused again, "Whaddya mean, joking? This girl is guilty of crime, all right!" Vince's quizzical look only fueled Spurlock's rant. "Of what crime could this little girl be guilty of? Selling lemonade without a license?!" "Oh, no, no. Even worse than that! She has been cohorting with the man what stole your fancy whatchamacallit!" Vince sighed, "My watch, you mean?" "Yes, the very one!" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fairly large black pistol. "And for that she must be PUNISHED!" Vincent yelped and moved away from him, "What the- What in the world is wrong with you?" Spurlock unknowingly pointed the gun at Vince as he spoke, "She's not your average little girl, honest! She's been up to no good! Haven't you, little girl?" She stared back at him "..." Vince carefully pushed the gun away from him, and at the same time pulled out a gun of his own. "Drop the gun, Mr. Holmes." Spurlock looked surprised, "Greg, where'd you get one of those?!" Greg broke a sweat, "I picked it up back there when you dropped it while using your 'homing device'. I don't understand what's going on with you, Spurlock...all I know is that I cannot allow you to harm this defenseless child!" Spurlock smiled, and Vince flinched. "GREAT! Now you can help me punish her!" Vince mimicked Spurlock's look of confusion, "You really have lost it, haven't you? I'M NOT HELPING YOU HARM THIS LITTLE GIRL!" The girl looked from Vincent to Spurlock and back again. She drooped her head, "My name's Tiffany, you know."

Spurlock Holmes Chapter 7

Just then, Spurlock turned his attention to a child skipping along the sidewalk. "Hmm..." Spurlock immediately darted down the front steps and, in a fairly graceful pounce, tackled the child, sweeping the poor girl clear off her feet and face-first into the grass. She gave out a yelp and struggled to stand but Spurlock was already sitting on her back, effortlessly pinning her to the ground. Vincent rushed to their side and tried pulling Spurlock off of her, shouting, "MR. Holmes! Have you lost your MIND!?" Unable to remove the 180 lb man from the 60 lb girl, he took Spurlock's hat off. Spurlock looked up from his prey and stared at Vincent, wide-eyed. "You did NOT just take off my hat, did you, Greg?" Vincent just glared back, dangling the hat away from Spurlock, who stood up and grabbed it back. "That would be mine," he said as he carefully placed it back on his head. The little girl ran away, occasionally glancing back to see if they would chase her; Spurlock and Vincent just watched, though, and Spurlock rubbed his chin, "Hmm..." Vincent de-railed Spur's train of thought by knocking him upside the head, "What were you thinking?" Spurlock answered with his familiar smirk, "I was thinking of trying my latest invention, the Homing Device!" Vincent stared back, even more bewildered than before, "ON AN INNOCENT CHILD?" Spurlock watched his watch, "In only a few seconds, you will see the genius of my brain. 3... 2..." In an instant, Spurlock was down on the ground, and being dragged in the direction of the running girl by the left foot, his right foot flying in all directions. Yes, the great Spurlock's Homing Device consisted of a thin but powerful rope tied from the little girl's waist to his left ankle. Soon he was dragged across the block and out of sight. Vincent began to run after them, but accidentally stepped on something hard. He bent down to pick it up, and discovered a silver, compact 9mm handgun. He looked up and thought: What was Spurlock thinking? He followed the deep 180 lb dragmarks in the mud ...

Spurlock Holmes Chapter 6

Vincent is face down on the ground by this time. Spurlock suddenly notices him, whisking around and kneeling down next to him. "Egads, lad. Are you alright?" Vincent slowly lifts himself up, putting himself in a sitting position. "Alright?" he says softly. "Alright?! ALRIGHT?!" Vince jumps up, suddenly full of energy. "Are you kidding me? You've been looking at these rocks for hours and we are definitely nowhere near finding out the culprit or any other clues for that matter. It's late, I'm tired, and I don't see how you can use that magnifying glass properly when it's getting fairly dark outside anyway!" he shouts. Spurlock scratches his head, staring at the magnifying glass in his hand. "Hm, you're right. I shall run into my home and return quickly with a flashlight so that we may continue this excursion." Vince bites his lip. "Hello? Earth to detective? Didn't you just hear anything I said except for that last part?!" he said, obviously frustrated. "I don't even know why I need to be here in the first place," he sighs. "I'm not doing anything of use anyway- just staring at you waste your time looking under rocks. Wouldn't it make more sense to search the areas that I have actually been around these past few days?" Spurlock stares at the short man, shaking his head. "See? You are way too stressed out, Greg...er, Vince. This may seem pointless but I assure that if I continue looking, we will find something of great importance to help me solve your case. And yes, you are also important because you hold all of the information I need to move onward in this case. And plus, well, I like your company," he smiles. The stout man covers his face with his hands, slumping forward. "I'm trying to stay patient and calm, but it's hard." Spurlock pockets the magnifying glass into his coat, nearing Vincent. "There, there, let it all out. Holmey's here for you," he says quietly, patting the man's head. Vincent sniffles a bit, staring at the ground. Just then, he notices what looks to be a large button on the ground. With his heart racing, Vincent moves out of Spurlock's hold and crouches down, picking up the object. Standing back up, he hands it to the detective. "Look at what I just noticed! Do you think it holds any importance?" Spurlock's eyes widen, and he snatches the button from the short man's hand. "Do I think so? Vince, old chap, I KNOW so," he smiles, jumping up and down. "This is wonderful news!" he laughs. Vincent, curious as to know how this button could help them in solving his case, excitedly asks Spurlock. "Oh, Holmes, tell me about it, please!" Spurlock smiles, holding it up to his coat, so that Vince could see that it looked exactly like all of the other buttons on his coat. Although there was one spot where there was no button. "See? You've found my missing button! This is my favorite plaid coat and oh, I'm just so happy that I can make it complete again!" he squeals. Vincent's shoulders droop. "Ugh..."

Spurlock Holmes Chapter 5

Spurlock raised his palm in a gesture to hush him. "Please, um..." Spurlock snaps his fingers a few times, appearing to have forgotten something. "um..." Vincent helps him, "Vince-" "Vincent! Yes - Vincent, leave the information-gathering to me." Vincent simply nods. Spurlock suddenly turns and strides to his desk, which he swipes clean of debris. He opens one of the many drawers, but finds it empty. He tries another - still empty. He frantically searches through the desk, mumbling "Where is it... where is it?" He stops suddenly, smiles, then reaches into the pocket of his long plaid cloak, and pulls from it a shiny, silver magnifying glass. He stares at Vincent, grinning. "This is all we'll need. Trust me." Then he walks out the door. Vincent looks a bit skeptical, but follows him outside; he nearly topples over Spurlock as he turns the corner at the front door - Spurlock is crouched down on the floor, peering into the magnifying glass, examining what seems to be a rock of some kind. He carefully places the pebble on the ground and moves on to the next. Vincent breathes a heavy sigh and crouches down with him. Spurlock pretends not to notice him. "Leave no stone unturned, that's my motto..." he murmurs. Vincent squats there, patiently, placing his trust in Spurlock's unorthodox methods. Two hours go by.

Spurlock Holmes Chapter 4

Vincent takes a deep breath. "Well, I had a $10,000 pocket watch, handed down over five generations. It was very precious to me and-" "Wait! Say no more!" Spurlock jumps up and down. He walks closer to Vincent and puts his arm around him. "I know EXACTLY what the problem is." The stout man blinks twice. "Huh?" Spurlock smiles. "Your watch was stolen." Vincent sighs, shaking his head. "Yes, of course it was! I was just about to say that and-" The detective interrupts him yet again. "Ah, but I had to show you my great and awesome power of reading minds. So yes, I am just trying to prove my point. Er, continue with what you are going to say. Even though I already know what you are going to say...." Mr. Holmes suddenly moves away from Vince and stares him straight in the eye. The short man stands uncomfortably. "Um, why are you-" "-doing that?" Spurlock finishes the sentence with a grin. "See? I told you I could read minds." Vincent shakes his head. "WHO CARES? That has nothing to do with my problem, Holmes. All I want you to do is to find out who stole my watch and to get it back for me! And possibly punish the ones who took it." Mr. Holmes seems a bit disappointed that Vincent seems unfazed by his amazing mind reading skills. However, he nods his head. "Ah yes, I know, dear man. These types of jobs are never easy....for the average man! But for your good ol' pal Spurlock here, well....it will be a piece of cake!" Vincent stops frowning, starting to get excited. "Really? Well, great. What other information do you need from me to help you solve this case?"

Spurlock Holmes Chapter 3

Thoroughly frustrated, Vincent eases towards the exit, stage left. Mr. Holmes smiles, then takes a seat back in his chair, where he reaches over the side to grip the handle of the recliner. Vincent looks back from the doorway as he exits and bids the man farewell. "I'm sorry, Mr. Holmes, but I no longer need your help. Thank you for your time." Mr. Holmes' smirk widens, and he just nods his head. As Vincent passes the edge of the building, he hears a loud BOOM sound come from the building he had just left. Alarmed, he runs back to see what was the matter. "MR. HOLMES! Are you alright? I heard a..." he stops to observe the reclining chair, which looked less like a recliner than a large, springloaded catapult of sorts. Seated in the chair with his head being forced into the ceiling by an enormous spring was none other than Mr. Holmes, whose cranium was planted about a foot away from an open skylight window. Vincent rushes outside once again and yells to Mr. Holmes' head, "ARE YOU OKAY? DO YOU NEED HELP?" The detective smiles again, rolling his eyes, "Please, I'M the one who's going to help YOU!" He struggles to remove his head, but tries not to show any sign of despair to his client. After a few tries, Holmes calmly says, "Well, if you want to do something, it would be nice if you could pull the handle of the recliner down." Vincent runs back inside, pulls the recliner down, but notices the chair is empty. Yes, the great Mr. Holmes' head was planted so far into the ceiling that it had taken root. "ACK! Sherlock, hold on, I'll try and pull you down!" Holmes yells back to him, "My name is NOT Sher..." before being yanked out, landed on the floor in front of Vincent, in a pile of rubble. "Are you okay now, Sherlock?" The rubble is immediately shoved away by the detective as he jumps to his feet, covered in white dust. "I am not Sherlock Holmes," he exclaims. "I am the SUPER..." he flexes his nonexistent muscles, "...SUSPENSEFUL..." he jumps in the air, placing his palms on his cheeks with a look of horror on his face. Vincent adds, "yet SOMEWHAT STRANGE..." Holmes gives him a quizzical stare. "The awe-inspiring...Grand Detective SPURLOCK HOLMES!" Vincent gazes at Spurlock for only a few moments before bursting out in laughter. Spurlock is not fazed, and he holds his prideful pose. Once able to breathe again, Vincent says, "Wow, I haven't laughed so hard since I was a young boy..." he looks surprised. "In fact, for a moment there, I had forgotten all about my problem. I feel a lot better now!" He glances at Spurlock, "Thank you, sir! I hadn't realized your plan all along...you truly are a great detective!" Though bewildered, Spurlock replies, "Did you think I was lying about my immeasurable ingenuity? Who needs the one you call 'Sherlock' when the grand SPURLOCK is on the case?" Vincent grins, "Alright, allow me to tell you my problem..."

Spurlock Holmes Chapter 2

Vincent nods his head, wondering why he felt so uncomfortable around such a supposedly homely-man, at least from what he had heard about Sherlock Holmes. He took a deep breath, about to tell the detective his problems when Mr. Holmes suddenly holds up his hand. He puffs on his pipe a bit more, walking closer to the stout man. "Hold on there just a second…you said your name was Gregory Vincent, did you not?" he asks, peering into the short man's face. The newcomer can't help but cough as smoke blows into his face. "Er, no, Mr. Holmes, it is Vincent Gregory." "Aha!" Holmes shouts out while backing away, causing the short man to jump from surprise. "I see that you have changed your name to protect your identity. In reality, your first name is Gregory but in a matter to prevent your name from spreading to unwanted ears, you have told me that this is your last name instead!" He points his finger at the stout man, the flames of the fireplace flickering in the background. Vincent shakes his head fervently, saying, "What? Of course not! Why would I do a thing like that?" Holmes gives a small smile. "Ah, no need to try to hide it. I am a great detective and I can sense these types of things." Vincent sighs deeply, throwing up his hands. "What are you talking about? Fine! My real name is Gregory Vincent! NOW can I tell you my problem?!" The detective takes his pipe out of his mouth, gently setting it on the armchair. "Why yes, dear stranger, why didn't you say so in the first place? Alright then, Greg, tell me why you have come to be in my grand presence, the best of the best of the best detectives to solve this impossible case for you!" The short man was getting rather annoyed, but he kept his temper down. "Well…" Just then, his attention shifted to the chair that was placed slightly behind Mr. Holmes. His eyes widened. "Uh, sir….the pipe…the uh, armchair…" The detective turns around to see the whole arm of the chair being caught aflame, as the pipe had fallen and the burning ashes touched the delicate fabric. He laughs, saying, "Woops. How silly of me to leave my pipe there!" Vincent puts his hand to his head, wondering how Mr. Holmes could hardly be fazed by such a thing and why he seemed so unprofessional. "If it takes this long just to tell him my problem, I can't even imagine how long it'll take for him to solve it!" he mutters to himself as he watches the detective put out the fire with a pitcher of water that was on the sidetable nearby. Mr. Holmes turns around and smiles. "Heh heh, sorry about that, Greg…"

Pikmin Strike

1st Day

Olimar: "Slaves, ATTACK!"
Red Pikmin: "WOOH! WOOH!"
Yellow Pikmin: "WOOH! WOOH!"
Blue Pikmin: "..."
Olimar: "BLUE SLAVE! I said ATTACK!"
Blue: "...Nah."
Olimar: "Hath ye forgotten who hath given birth to ye? I plucked you from teh ground, yoo are belong to ME."
Blue: "..."
OLIMAR: "A-WHAT IS THIS MUTINY? I'LL BURY YE FIVE FEET DEEPER IN TEH GROUND THAN YOU WERE WHEN YOU WAS A ZYGOTE!"
Blue: "...wooh."
Red: :> ??
Yellow: -_-'

[After several Pikmin deaths and casualities, back at Olimar HQ. Olimar is out on a bathroom break]

Blue: "...LISTEN UP!"
[Red and Yellow Pikmin listen up]
Blue: "I declare that we must overthrow the oppressive totalitarian dictator and alien-creature-collector that is Olimar. All in favor say I!"
Yellow: "...Why? What's 'totalitarian mean?'"
Blue: "It means bossy."
Red: "...what's 'the' mean??"
Blue: "It means YOU'RE STUPID. Alright, I'll take all of your incredibly incompetent answers as a big "I". We shall see who dies the next battle!"
Blue 2: "I see. But how shall we do it?"
Blue: "Well, I propose that we..."
Yellow: "Wait! I don't take orders from other Pikmin. Olimar's our leader! We must show him respect."
Blue: "He's not our leader, he's our OWNER. He doesn't care, he just wants to use us to get his ship parts back."
Red 2: "He has a ship??" :P
Yellow: ;)
Blue: "...yes, he does. Go away."
Blue 3: "I say we poison him!"
Blue: "BRILLIANT! However, in order for us to do that, we must first enlist the aid of the White Pikmin, for they are the only ones with access to such chemicals."
Yellow: "Good luck with that plan. Olimar has no Whites."
Blue: "...Then we'll just have to get him to find some Whites. Trust me, I know exactly how to pull it off."
Red: "NOO! DON'T PULL MY LEAF OFF!!"
Yellow: ;D
Blue: >_<

Spurlock Holmes Chapter 1

On the night of 7/11, a block north from the Creme Cafe, a short, stout, well-groomed man rushed down the empty streets of London. As he ran, he peered about him, clearly in search of something. Unfamiliar with this side of town, the man slows down only to look around him again, this time seeing a tall man in a dark cloak. The short man nonchalantly approached him, catching his breath. He calmly asks the man, "Excuse me, sir? Might you know where I can find a Mr. Holmes?" The man answers, "Mr. Holmes? Oh, he's just on the edge of this street, just take a right at the end." The short man looks down at the end of the street, only to see a tiny complex. He mutters, "Quite a small office building for a famous detective..." The tall man looks surprised and amused at the same time. "Famous detective...alright." The short man thanks him for his help and makes his way towards the building where the famous Sherlock Holmes is to be found, the one man that can help him catch the culprit that made off with his $10,000 pocket watch, handed down from over 5 generations. He staggered toward the doorstep, where he made his entry into a dimly lit room, where he stood for a few seconds, peering about. He notices a chair with a head poking up, which he inquires, "Mr. Holmes? Excuse me for intruding; you must be Mr. Holmes. I am in dire need of your assistance..." Suddenly, the man in the chair veers around, removes himself from the chair, and jumps in the short man's face. " You are Theodore Monteley...you live a lonely life in a cottage off the shores of the ocean...and you have come to me with a problem." The short man stared at him for a while in shock. The strange man stares back without expression, pipe in mouth. The short man manages to say "...No, No, and...Yes." The strange man continues his blank stare. The short man sees the conversation is going nowhere, and decides to introduce himself. "Sorry, but my name is Vincent Gregory. You must be Mr. Holmes, am I correct to assume this?" The strange man replies, "Why, yes, I am very much so a Mr. Holmes!" Holmes is overjoyed, "No doubt I was the recommended detective to see when the going gets tough!" He dances around a bit, adding more to Vincent's confusion. With a powerful stance, the detective says, "Now tell me what the issue is, and rest assured that I will resolve it!" ... :D