I’ve been getting spam comments on posts I made in 2005, and it made me curious about what I’d written back then. While poking around in the past, I found the following, entitled Words From a Friend. Quite entertaining after the recent Holmes movie…
Good day, readers of this fine blog! Waston and I are taking time out of a very intriguing tour of the world to speak to you from Miss Rebecca’s home on the Net.
What’s that, Watson? Oh yes, right you are, old chap! Beg your pardon, Rebecca, I had forgetten you’re married. Seems I’ve known you for ages as “Miss Rebecca.” Tell me, how is married life? Oh yes, I agree, silly question. Won’t happen again.
Now, where was I? Thank you, Watson. Yes, dear readers, I am in fact the world-renowned Sherlock Holmes. I pop in now and then to visit Rebecca and catch up on the goings-on in her life. She’s been telling me about a few of the plots that have come to her lately. I must say, she has quite the imagination. And have you seen how often she visits the local library? She certainly defines the term “bookworm.” I can understand why she intends to become a librarian someday. “Right up her alley,” as they say.
I was just telling Watson the other day that I’d received a request to solve a mystery involving a library, two Scottish gentlemen, and a rather fat feline. He thought I was mad for wishing to consult with Rebecca, but I reminded him that she is a lover of both books and mysteries. Perhaps she wil be an excellent assistant on this case, for you must know I am the most brilliant man in the world and do not need a partner in the detective business. Only a nudge in the correct direction. Watson is good for that, too.
Yes, yes, I hear you, Watson. He wants his name on the case reports too, not merely as an observer but as an active participant. How can I explain to him that everyone expects me to be the genius and I can’t let them down? Not that Watson is an ambitious fellow, but it must be trying on the nerves to have the spotlight on one’s companion and never on oneself. Fortunately, I have never had that dilemma. No, the world flocks to my door and I graciously entertain all my loyal fans.
What’s that, Watson? Oh yes, time to be off! I’ve had an epiphany regarding this library mystery, and we shall now apprehend the criminal, furry though she is. (Who would have thought that a cat who resembles her name – Pumpkin – could ever find the agility to steal and escape with the oldest copy of Robbie Burn’s poetry collection?)
Cheerio, readers! Until next time…