Intro: Looooooooooooook, its last season. In case you forgot.
Fandom: We haven't. Have you seen tumblr?
Jim: Remember all my old lines!
Sherlock: Um, still got my gun on your bomb vest.
Jim & Sherlock: *STARE DOWN*
-BEE GEES BREAK WITH AMUSING IRONIC MUSIC-
John & Sherlock: Da fuck?
Jim: Don't be jealous of my ringtone.
Fandom: We are.
Jim: Moooooooom!
Irene: Hi honey. 3
Jim: Not my usual sex game…
Irene: Look, you can't kill them now, we need a series 2.
Jim: Aw, but I like killing.
Irene: I can make Sherlock love me, get him all hot and bothered then leave him high and dry.
Jim: I wanted to do that.
Irene: Give me episode 1, you can have episode 3, and we'll give John episode 2 just to be nice.
Jim: Deal.
Irene: Throw in shoes?
Jim: Don't be cracky.
Sherlock: Not to interrupt…
Jim: Gotta go, snapping time.
John: So…
Sherlock: I'm sure that phone call couldn't have been related to us.
-OMG NEW CREDITS!-
John: Look how much faster I type!
Sherlock: What are you typing? Are you blogging? Is this about me? I know it's about me! PAY ATTENTION TO ME!
John: Look at all the cases we have and look at all the book references!
Lots of random people: TAKE OUR CASE!
Sherlock: No. I'm rude.
Kids & Ash guy: We're relevant to the plot!
Sherlock: HA! Right. You don't even have name credits!
John: MY BLOG IS SO POPULAR. I'M INTERNET FAMOUS!
Sherlock: My blog is better.
John: No one reads your blog.
Sherlock: DO TOO!
John: I'm tumblr. You're Myspace.
Lestrade: OH SNAP!
Sherlock: *BITCH FACE*
Lestrade: Well then, what about this German guy in the boot?
Sherlock: Er…
John: HA! FAILOCK!
Sherlock: Shut up! I have a blow torch!
John: …
Sherlock: And cue iconic hat shot.
Fans: AAAAAAAHHHHHH!
Book Fans: Canonically he never wears that. *snap snap snap*
Random dude: I can't fix my car.
Soon to be dead dude: *stands*
Random dude's car: PAY ATTENTION TO ME!
Random dude: What's your issue!
Now dead dude: *is dead*
Lestrade: Yo.
Copper: um…
Lestrade: Don't punch Sherlock; John'll do it later.
Copper: Do I even get a name?
John: Hi.
Sherlock: I'M WEARING A SHEET. YES, WE ARE GOING TO NEW HEIGHTS OF CRAZY THIS SEASON!
John: It's really nice and green here! You'll be sad you didn't come. We could have had a holiday. A big gay holiday.
Sherlock: We'll do that in Hounds.
Doorbell: Ding ding
Sherlock: I HATE DOORBELLS!
John: So, dead guy.
Sherlock: PSH! EASY!
Copper: Wait, what?
Suit: Mr. Holmes.
Sherlock: Da fuck?
Suit: Kidnapping time. Get dressed.
Sherlock: Hell no. I only get dressed for John… wait.
Ginger Copper: I'm adorable!
John: Shouldn't you be telling me about the helicopter?
Ginger Copper: I'm still adorable!
-Overhead shot of the palace bitches!-
John: Um… sheet.
Sherlock: It's mostly clean.
John: So, you're naked under that sheet?
Sherlock: Yep.
John: Naked?
Sherlock: No doubt.
John: Naked at Buckingham palace?
Sherlock: It's how I roll.
John: Approved.
Mycroft: Sherlock! You're embarrassing me!
Sherlock: QUEEN!
Mycroft: I am rubber, you are glue!
Harry: Hello, I am delightfully upper class and snooty.
Mycroft: We should get married!
Harry: PS – the royal family likes your blog, Dr. Watson.
John: WINNER!
Sherlock: So, wtf, client?
Harry: An important one.
Sherlock: LEAVING!
Mycroft: *troll*
Sheet: I am done covering this boney batch.
Fans: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Sherlock: Stop ruining my exit!
Mycroft: Stop being prettier than me!
John: Stop holding up the sheet.
Sherlock: What?
Mycroft: What?
John: You heard.
Harry: Okay…
-And now we put on clothes, crushing the hearts of all Cumberbitches-
Mycroft: So, here's our 'cover story.'
Harry: You get a lady villain this time.
Mycroft: And she's a dominatrix.
Sherlock: Interested.
John: *jealous*
Irene: Hello Sweetie 3
Jim!text: Sending hottie shots.
Irene: Got my masturbation material for tonight!
Sherlock: So?
Harry: Photos.
Sherlock: Should I pose?
Harry: Lesbian ones.
Sherlock: Dull.
John: NOT dull.
Mycroft: No ransom though.
Sherlock: Power play? I read a fic like that.
Harry: So?
Sherlock: Stealing an ash tray.
Harry: Have my lighter.
Irene: Time to play dress up!
Kate: I'll get the video camera.
Sherlock: Time to play dress up!
John: I'll get the riding crop.
Irene: Ironic!
Kate: Can we have a real lesbian sex scene before the boys get here?
Irene: Well, I am wearing my battle dress.
Kate: Score.
Sherlock: Punch me in the face.
John: Okay.
Sherlock: No, wait! You're supposed to have reservations about hurting me!
John: Nope!
-PUNCH – PUNCH – OMG LOOK AT US FIGHT. JOHN = BAMF-
John: When John Watson has a bad day people die!
Sherlock: No fandom memes.
-Ding ding-
Katie: Hello obvious fake?
Sherlock: *wibble* John was mean!
Kate: Are you dressed like a vicar?
Sherlock: Look how cute and sad I am!
Kate: The price of admission is one bang for the redhead.
Fans: SO MANY GINGERS!
Sherlock: Ha ha! Inside using my oh-so-clever disguise.
Irene: Hello sexy!
Sherlock: NAKED! DOES NOT COMPUTE.
Everyone in the fandom: …I have a girl crush.
Irene: Let's skip the plot and have sex on my couch, holy man.
John: …
Irene: And now it's a threesome.
Sherlock: My computer brain is stalling… should not have downloaded Vista.
John: ….
Irene: Blinded by my perfection?
Sherlock: Stick to plan, stick to plan…
Irene: Aw, you're got a wound. Sorry you had to punch your boyfriend, John.
John: PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!
Irene: I'll wear the coat.
Cosplayers: JEALOUS!
Irene: So, what's up with dead field guy?
John: Buzah?
Irene: You're not getting my photos, so impress me instead.
Sherlock: Speech is difficult.
John: Sooooooo, you busy later?
Sherlock: GUARD THE DOOR, JOHN!
John: …cock block.
Sherlock: And cool transition to the field.
Irene: My couch is coming along.
Sherlock: Car back fire, standing sport guy, soon to be dead because…. Class?
Irene: Er…
Sherlock: Ooo, I'll have to mark you down for that.
John: See? We are using the lighter!
Irene: FIRE ALARM! MY ELECTRONIC BABY!
Sherlock: HA! Fooled you! Wall safe, hello.
Irene: …fuck.
Sherlock: Let me analyze this key pad.
Irene: If you were straight you'd know the code.
CIA: I WILL FUCKING SHOOT YOU.
John: You'll get yours later.
CIA: EVERYBODY ON THE FLOOR.
Sherlock: Please tell me this isn't a sex game?
CIA: Open safe, please!
Sherlock: Don't know the code.
CIA: Not my problem!
Sherlock: Bitch, plz.
CIA: Shoot Dr. Watson.
Sherlock: JK, NO, I'LL OPEN IT!
CIA: I like threatening people.
Irene: I'm going to discretely look down at my chest. Not a signal or clue. Nope.
Sherlock: I hope my mental measuring tape works…
John: Why is it always me? Always 'let's shoot John' or 'let's attach him to a bomb.'
Irene: Whiner.
Sherlock: VATICAN CAMEOS!
-EPIC SLOW-MO FIGHT SCEQUENCE-
Fans: DAT ASS.
John: …I didn't get to do anything.
CIA: Owie.
Sherlock: Got your phone.
Irene: I will cut you.
John: Field trip upstairs?
Kate: I'll just lie here, shall I?
Sherlock: Do de do, I totally win.
Irene: DRUGGED YOU!
Sherlock: Shit, forced relapse!
Irene: SLAP A BITCH!
Sherlock: Holy fuck, it's blurry!
Irene: Give me my fucking phone!
Sherlock: No! I called claimsies!
Irene: RIDING CROP BEAT DOWN.
Fans: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!
Sherlock: Ow, okay, ouch, have it!
Irene: Why thank you, honey. I knew you liked it rough.
Sherlock: …riding crop fantasies cementing.
John: Omg, what did you do to my boyfriend and did you take photos!
Irene: Time for BAMF escape out of the window on a rope.
John: …legs.
Irene: PS – Sherlock totally checked out my smoking hot bod.
Sherlock: *gurgle*
John: It's okay, honey, this'll make a great hurt/comfort fic.
Irene: OMG! I figured out your field guy case!
Sherlock: These transitions are making me nauseous…
Irene: BOOMERANG! Damn, your mind is sexy!
Sherlock: Can't… sentence… properly.
Firefly Fans: I GET THAT!
Irene: Enjoy your coat 3
-Magic, we're home-
Sherlock: JOOOOOOOHN!
John: Y'ello?
Sherlock: WOMAN, WOMAN, WTF, WOMAN!
John: Uh… nope, but Lestrade filmed you on his phone. Up on facebook now.
Sherlock: I am impersonating a drunk giraffe.
Doctor Who Fans: I GET THAT!
John: Let me just man handle you to bed.
Irene!text: Ahh, baby, right there!
Sherlock: Um… I should probably change that sound…
-221B Baker Street, now with egg cups-
Sherlock: Whatevs! It's totally fine. I lost the phone on purpose. Toooootally fine.
Mycroft: What. The. Fuck.
Sherlock: It's totally fine!
John: Cept that Sherlock has a crush on her and I'm jealous…
Mrs. Hudson: You're a bad big brother.
Mycroft: Shut up, old lady!
Sherlock & John: WHAT YOU SAY!
Mycroft: Er… JK.
Irene!text: Ahh, baby, right there!
Everyone: *stare*
Sherlock: SO! Government secrets on her phone?
Mycroft: Maybe.
Sherlock: Totally.
Mycroft: James Bond reference!
-Violin transition-
Sherlock: Yes, we are actually having a Christmas party!
Lestrade: Why did I even come to this? Don't I have real friends?
John: Look! New girlfriend.
Sherlock: You mean new beard.
Jeanette: I was under appreciated in The Hour too.
Molly: HI, HI, HI!
Sherlock: Meh.
Molly: SEXY DRESS.
Lestrade: Jaw, meet floor.
Sherlock: John's blog is so much more interesting.
John: Let me lean over you in my Christmas sweater.
Sherlock: Can I unwrap my present?
John: Hee hee, deer stalker.
Molly: I love chit chat.
Sherlock: And you love being over dressed, excessively hair styled, over large earrings, and fancy wrapped present for your Mr. Right.
John: This is going to hurt…
Sherlock: I'm sure this well wrapped present is… totally for me…
Molly: I'll just go kill myself, okay?
Everyone: Awkward.
Sherlock: …sorry, Molly.
John: ALL MY SHOCK AND AMAZEMENT.
Irene!Text: Ahh, baby, right there!
Everyone: Hold up!
Sherlock: …
Irene!text: Left you a present. Now I shall die. *dramatic hand to forehead* FAREWELL!
Sherlock: …it's her camera phone. *sniff*
John: *CREEPIN*
-WE LOVE BARTS-
Fake!Irene: *soooooooooo dead for real*
Mycroft: I was hoping to go to the morgue on Christmas!
Sherlock: I am having a complex internal reaction to this event.
Molly: Dislike.
Mycroft: Cigarette?
Sherlock: I'll take ten.
Mycroft: And ready for the brothers money shot.
Film Majors: LIKE.
Sherlock: Emotions suck, right?
Mycroft: Right.
Sherlock: Cool… *sniffle*
John: Search for drugs is result negative.
Mycroft: Cancel your girlfriend plans.
John: Shit.
Jeanette: Just get gay married already!
Sherlock: SAD VIOLIN MUSIC!
John: Um.
Sherlock: Your blog counter is stuck.
John: And?
Sherlock: IDEA.
Phone: 1895? Uh, nooo.
Book Fans: AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!
Random Girl: Hi.
John: Hiiiiiii.
Random Girl: Get in the car.
John: Oh.
-Dun dun dun abandoned something industrial like building dun dun daaaaaah-
John: Mycroft, how do you know so many obscure creepy locations?
Irene: Hi. Need my phone back.
John: Displeased.
Irene: Oh come on, of course I can fake die.
John: Well, you best better make my boyfriend happy again or I'll go army John on you.
Irene: Remind me to get you an engagement present.
John: JK, not gay.
Irene: And I don't have lots of sex with women.
John: Oh, mental image.
Irene: Texted him.
John: ….ps - he's still MY boyfriend.
Irene!text: Ahh, baby, right there!
John & Irene: Oh shit, twist!
Sherlock: ALL THE FEELINGS! I float on air like magic…
221B Baker Street's Door: *sniffle* Ow.
Sherlock: Analyzing.
Mrs. Hudson: DAMSEL IN DISTRESS!
Sherlock: OH. NO. YOU. DIDN'T
CIA: Yo! Give me phone.
Mrs. Hudson: *whimper whimper whimper*
Sherlock: Okay, sure, check if I'm armed.
CIA: Sounds legit.
Sherlock: FUCK YOU, HEAD BUTT.
Mrs. Hudson: Why are we all getting punched this episode?
Sherlock: It's okay surrogate mom, I'm going to seriously injure him!
John: Da fuck?
Sherlock: Time to cause some pain.
John & Mrs. Hudson: Witnesses leaving!
CIA: This feels like karma…
Sherlock: American bitch, meet window.
Window: Meet pavement.
Lestrade: Should I charge you or something?
Sherlock: Naw.
John: Poor Mrs. Hudson!
Mrs. Hudson: Stop leaving the phone around it is worth £17,300, you idiot.
Sherlock: 3
Mrs. Hudson: HBIC.
John: So… Irene…
Sherlock: *whistles*
-And now we're at Barts again!-
Sherlock: Scanning your phone!
Molly: Why the hell do I like you?
Sherlock: This is one crazy phone, bombs included!
Molly: So… your girlfriend's phone?
Sherlock: You think I'd x-ray my girlfriend's phone?
Molly: Without a doubt.
Sherlock: IDEA FOR PASSCODE.
Phone: 221B? PULEZ!
Molly: HA! I mean…
-Back at Baker Street… time passes?-
Sherlock: *SNIFF* I smell sexy woman.
John: …I'm a man.
Sherlock: And don't I know it.
Irene: *sleeps*
Sherlock & John: So?
Irene: People are, like, trying to kill me and stuff.
Sherlock & John: Uh huh.
Irene: Need my phone.
John: Um, it's so totally not here.
Sherlock: It's in my pocket.
John: God, you're whipped.
Irene: Gimmie.
Sherlock: Passcode?
Irene: Nope.
Sherlock: Is it 1234?
Irene: Um… passcode fail.
Sherlock: HA! FOOLED YOU!
Phone: Uh, no.
Sherlock: er…
Irene: FOOLED YOU!
John: Baby name, Hamish.
Sherlock: What kind of middle name is Hamish?
John: What kind of first name is Sherlock?
Irene: At least it's not Benedict.
Sherlock: Who would ever be named Benedict?
Fans: *squeal*
Irene: Here, decipher this e-mail.
Sherlock: I LOVE PUZZLES!
-Slow-mo solve the code scene, and by 'scene' we mean 8 seconds-
Sherlock: It's a plane, Heathrow, tomorrow night, to Baltimore – number pairs, seat numbers, no number 13, obviously British and I am still a BAMF.
John: *swoon*
Irene: Let's fuck, right now in front of John.
Sherlock: Make that 'with John' and you've got a deal!
John: Should… be… objecting… um, Bond reference?
Sherlock: Bond reference? My spidey senses.
Irene: *discretely texting* I am so good.
Jim: oooooo! I expect video!
Irene: Already on facebook.
Jim!text: Any seats left on your plane, Mr. Holmes?
Mycroft: Fuck my life.
-ooooo violin and mood lighting-
Sherlock: Historical reference!
Irene: *purrr*
Sherlock: …um… John?
Irene: Just me, cheekbones.
Sherlock: …
Irene: Have you ever had anyone?
Sherlock: Had anyone what?
Irene: Sex.
Sherlock: Missionary? Doggie Style? 69? In a bed? Against a wall? Shower? With handcuffs? In the kitchen? Anal? Oral? Blind folded? Dressed up? Top? Bottom? Threesome?
Irene: …any.
Sherlock: Then no.
Irene: Let's have dinner.
Sherlock: No.
Irene: You can't say no, we have to flirt and get all close.
Sherlock: No means no.
Irene: I have a sexy brain.
Sherlock: nnnggghhh.
Mrs. Hudson: COCK BLOCK!
Suit: Yo.
Irene: *discreetly flee*
Sherlock: Can we get a take away on the way?
-Plane full of dead people in creepy lighting-
Sherlock: Um.
Mycroft: YOU FUCKED UP EVERYTHING!
Sherlock: LOL not!
Irene: *ahem*
Sherlock: Oh.
Irene: I have so many secrets this phone has a terabyte of memory.
Computer Geeks: ooooooooo!
Mycroft: Stop being so classy, bitch.
-There is a lot of mood lighting in these last scenes-
Irene: I WIN.
Mycroft: *woe*
Sherlock: *grump*
Irene: Here is my long list of demands.
Mycroft: …hover craft?
Irene: Don't question.
Sherlock: *GRUMP*
Irene: Jim says hi.
Mycroft: I know.
Sherlock: OMG. HE DIDN'T TEXT ME!
Irene: And you've got nicknames – the iceman and the virgin.
Sherlock: Which is which?
Mycroft: I hate you both.
Sherlock: JK, WAIT. I KNOW YOUR PASSWORD!
Irene: Psh, whatever.
Sherlock: You have the hots for me.
Irene: Not even; I'm totally dating Kate.
(Kate: IT'S CANON, YOU CAN'T TELL ME NO!)
Sherlock: And I'm dating John, point?
(John: So canon it hurts.)
Irene: Well, what then, pretty boy?
Sherlock: Pulse.
Irene: Fuck. Science.
Phone: I AM SHER-LOCKED.
Fans: OMG, ME TOO!
Irene: Do you expect me to talk?
Sherlock: No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to die!
Mycroft: *hums Goldfinger*
-ooo scene change to umbrella-
John: Um.
Mycroft: I'm allowed to smoke, I'm the older one.
John: So, Irene?
Mycroft: Witness protection.
John: Really?
Mycroft: No.
John: Fuck.
Mycroft: But we're going to lie to Sherlock to protect his fragile barely made heart.
John: Deal.
Mycroft: PS – Piratelock.
Fans: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!
Sherlock: Doin' my experiments.
John: So, about Irene…
Sherlock: Oh, really? What? Hmm? Feigning interest.
John: Uh… she's, um… safe?
Sherlock: I totally believe you.
-FLASHBACK-
Irene: Bye bye text.
Irene!text: Ahh, baby right there
Sherlock: Feel the power of my sword!
Irene: I knew hitting him with the riding crop would pay off later.
-Present-
Sherlock: FIN.
