Sometimes I look back on my old posts and get embarassed, for obvious reasons. But a post from four years ago caught my attention (LINK). With my pursuit of the Antique Cello long over now, I decided to touch up this 2011 screenplay and put in some more pictures. I had to take advantage of a new Barkingham Palace villain, too.
Sherlock: My heavens. Where did I put my cello?
Arlen: Where did you last have it?
S: I took it to, err, Ms. Marphely's house...
A: You sly dog!
S: You know I have a penchant for the classics. I've even been getting into opera lately. Wag-ner, specifically.
A: I think it's pronounced "vag-ner". Anyways, let's head over to Marphely's and look.
S: She's not expecting me back until Saturday...
A: Do you want the cello or not?
A: Did we search the whole house?
S: Except up the chimney. Soot does not suit my health.
A: I'll investigate.
S: ... Any luck?
A: There was a rope. Santa Claus must have forgotten it last year.
S: Oh! It's elementary. The cello was stolen and the culprit made his getaway through the chimney.
A: Shall I battle Scroungers and O'Leary Thugs for clues?
S: Not necessary. Just check the rope for fingerprints.
A: Looks more like paw prints, Sherlock.
S: Ah! Let's put these through the lab for analysis.
S: Indeed... these prints perfectly match our criminal record with Doctor Jackall.
A: What, he's already out from Newgate?!
S: Why yes, he escaped several weeks back.
A: *sigh* You're just telling me this now?
S: I assumed you saw all the wanted posters.
A: Yes, they were very detailed. A fuzzy mugshot with the description: "WANTED for being a bad guy and stealing stuff!"
S: Our printers may or may not need to be upgraded...
Marphely: Oh, Sherlock! The neighborhood watch is reporting noxious fumes coming from the Kensington Park rooftops.
S: Goodness! Arlen, I'm commissioning you to investigate this matter.
A: Righto. I've been to Kensington more times than I count.
A: *cough* This must be Jackall's gas golem!
Golem: Ha ha! Did you think I'd go down after two attempts? Our robot army will conquer the city!
A: Odd, I don't remember him being this articulate. Or planning to capture Marleybone.
G: I'm Stoker, you fool.
A: Oh. Wait, that still doesn't make sense.
G: H.G. Waggs was nothing more than a red herring. Dr. Jackall is the mastermind. He gave me these fumes!
A: Ohhhh. Well, I can still defeat you with relative ease.
G: Impossible! We will take ov--
A: Yep, Humongofrog always does it.
Jackall: You again! Stoker is but a pawn in the scheme. You do not want to be around when I turn into... Mr. Hyde.
A: With all due respect, Doctor Jackall sounds more intimidating.
S: Jackall! Scotland Yard here -- you are surrounded. Surrender with your paws up.
J: Never! I'll just jump 50 feet down to street level and escape the authorities again! *jumps*
A: That wasn't a good idea... oh, but at least he left the cello!
S: Looks like this cat ran out of his nine lives.
A: I'm surprised he didn't land on his feet.
S: Wait -- his body is changing form! Could it be..?
M: Oh, dear me! What am I doing down here?
A: It was... Ms. Marphely?!?
S: Despite her -- er, attractiveness -- it appears that Marphely was prone to turn into a hairy, villainous trickster.
A: And you didn't figure this out after arresting Jackall?
S: As the saying goes, a watched pot never boils. Marphely would only transform when alone. Or when dead, apparently.
M: Could someone please explain what's going on? I was having tea and suddenly ended up here on the street.
A: So Doctor Jackall is gone now?
S: Yes, but Mr. Hyde isn't.
A: What? How?
Hyde: Ah, but haven't you noticed? I'm Mr. Hyde.
A: Wait, what?
H: You've just been marveling at Marphely this whole time and haven't turned around to observe my transformation. Sherlock was the pot. I am the boiling water.
A: You really need to get your metaphors in order.
H: Hush, insolent wizard! Now, will you help me lead the coup over the Queen or shall I have to do it all myself?
A: *sigh* Oh, bother. Looks like I have to put up with another wannabe super-villain.
H: No, seriously, I'm a worthy villain. Look, here's the Antique Cello that I lured you into my trap with.
A: So... rare...
H: Exactly. And you can't have it! Mwahahah---
M: What's this, a blasphemer against the magnificent Queen?! Eat my purse, you filthy, royal-hating animal!
H: Ow! No, stop! Noooooo!
M: Ahhh! He's changing form!
S: What's going on here?
A: Interesting. Looks like a savage purse-beating boils the pot back to Sherlock.
M: I still have no idea what's going on.
S: Me neither, and I'm a world-renowned detective.
A: Don't worry, you two. Sherlock, why don't you serenade Mrs. Marphely with your cello?
S: I'd love -- er, that is, I'd be glad to.
M: Ooh, I do love some classical music to help unwind.
Thus concludes my messy attempt at numerous plot twists with completely different Marleybonian characters. It kind of evolved (or devolved) into a fan-fiction piece, but I'll just count it as improving a 4 year old blog post.