During "The World's Greatest Criminal Mind", we see that Professor Ratigan has a voodoo doll made to resemble Basil of Baker Street. Who knows what trouble he may have put Basil through with it in the past? Just a guess, but some of it might have gone like this:
Professor Ratigan sits at his throne, thinking. Specifically, he is thinking about his hatred for Basil of Baker Street, whom he sees as nothing more than a miserable, meddlesome, second-rate detective.
"Every time one of my marvellous, evil schemes is on the very brink of fruition, that pesky little twerp has to come and foul it all up!" he seethes. "How I would love to see him done away with!"
Then he spies the voodoo doll he has on the shelf, a little away from him. Now, it has not escaped his mind that he could easily take that doll and use it to force Basil to jump over a cliff, or over a bridge, or shoot himself in the head, "And oh, how delightfully humorous it would be to watch him as he does so! HAHAHAHAHAHA!", but as amusing as he thinks it would be to watch Basil, looking on at his own actions in horror and not being able to do anything about it, it just isn't good enough. And why? Because it's too obvious. It does not require brainstorming and planning and devising; anyone could come up with that idea the second they had the voodoo doll in their clutches. Why, if a three year-old child knew how to control someone with voodoo, they could do it!
No, the day will come when Ratigan has perfected a truly dastardly way to bring about Basil's obliviation, but until then, he can still use the doll for some amusement. Naturally, he won't be able to watch what's happening on the other end of that spiritual connection, but knowing it is happening and picturing it in his mind is enough for now.
/
Meanwhile, at 221 Baker Street, Basil, the Great Mouse Detective, is smoking his pipe in his chair, eyes closed and relaxing, when suddenly, he jumps right up and begins dancing a traditional German dance.
"What? Oh no, confound it!" the startled, angry detective shouts, "he's at that THING again!"
Hearing his shouting, his landlady, Mrs. Judson, comes out of the kitchen, where she's making some cheese crumpets. "What is going on here - OH! Mr. Basil! For shame!"
Basil is pulling his trousers off and thrashing them around above his head, like a cowboy with a lasso. Then he gets down on all fours and starts chasing his tail, barking like a dog.
"Mr. Basil! Enough of this nonsense! Get up and put your trousers on at once! You're a sight like this!"
"If I could - RUFF! - stop - RUFF RUFF! - Mrs. Judson - RUFF RUFF! - I most certainly - RUFF! - would! RUFF RUFF RUFF!" Basil tries to explain. Just then, he does stop. He stands there for a moment, catching his breath. Then, suddenly he starts singing, horribly off-key, "London Bridge is falling down! Falling down! Falling down!" And at this point, he does a series of jumping jacks over to the front door, bangs head on into it, then opens the door and continues to dance and sing outside, and all the way down the street.
Naturally, the mice stop and stare, women cover their children's eyes, men start laughing and saying things like, "I always knew the detective was mad!", and Mrs. Judson runs out after Basil, crying out for him to desist and come back at once, not understanding what's gotten into her tenant.
But the show-stopper is yet to come. Basil suddenly goes over to a perplexed and frightened young woman, grabs her, and begins a frantic imitation of a waltz with her, jabberin nonsense in first a Cockney, then a Northern English, then an Irish, then an American accent, then he can-cans over to a gentleman and his wife, swipes the gentleman from the woman's side, and begins dancing, singing to him in a faux-operatic manner. Cart-wheeling away from the befuddled and alarmed couple, Basil sits in the middle of the cobblestone road, legs splayed out to the sides, and begins drumming on the pavement with his fists, singing an African chant. Then he stops, lies down on one side, and begins running around in a circle, laughing.* A human carriage is travelling along that very road, headed straight for him, but Basil can't seem to stop - or rather, he won't seem to stop; he can only look on in horror at what may be his impending doom as he continues to run around on his side, apparently making merry of it.
Everyone around him is very frightened and upset due to his recent antics, but still, at the sight of a fellow mouse about to be crushed - not to mention their beloved, if not bizarre, master detective Basil - they get into action. Many of the gentlemen run into the street to help Basil, while the ladies and some of the others look on, silently hoping all will be alright. Just as the men reach Basil, however, he leaps upright, and begins hopping away, backwards, arms plastered at his sides, legs straight and feet stiff, and repeating the exclaimation, "Blip-blip-blip-blip-blip!"
As the carriage arrives, the gentlemen mice only barely manage to get out of the way in time, while it passes overtop of Basil, who is safely in the middle of the distance between the wheels on either side.
Feeling for the good citizens who tried to help, and wishing he could stop doing all these weird, crazy activities which almost put them in jeopardy, Basil calls out to them, "So sorry, Blip! Quite unintentional! Blip-blip-blip! Won't happen again! Blip-blip-blip!"
As he continues to hop away, unable to see where he is going and unable to change from that frozen position, knowing that somewhere in London, or wherever Ratigan's hideout is, his greatest foe of all time is having a blast while embarrassing him like this, all he can do is think to himself, "Ohhh, that vile sewer rat! When I finally get him landed in jail, and when I finally locate his hideout, and when the police begin emptying it of his loot and bounty, I shall personally see to it that blasted doll is destroyed before anything else is done!"
The end.
AN: Okay, maybe that was a bit mean to poor Basil, but obviously Ratigan is the one to blame, not me.
*That asterisk is to confirm, for anyone who might have thought it but was not sure, that I borrowed that antic from the movie "Singing in the Rain". I couldn't resist; that move is pure gold!