There was a knock at the main door one sunny Thursday afternoon. Followed shortly by a second knock. We heard Mrs. Hudson's click, click, click in rapid succession. Her "you are disrupting my housework" staccato walk. Not one we like to hear. We heard the doors opening and then Mrs. Hudson screamed. I started to get up. Sherlock said, "No need, just a pair of badgers." Sherlock said that so nonchalantly from the window where he was playing the violin that I simply sat back down.
Suddenly in walks a pair of Badgers on hind legs. Each had a Shoulder Holster on; one with a Ruger semi-auto and the other with a Taurus Model 85. Then the weirdest thing happened, my ears heard chittering and squeaks but my brain heard, "Sherlock we want to hire you." "What is the job?" Sherlock verbally replied. "We need help locating the 4 Yorkshiremen, who burnt our houses down during the Dorset-Badger War of 1967." As calmly as possible, I said, "You're going to kill 4 Yorkshiremen for burning down your houses during a military incursion back in 1967?". What was I thinking, a military incursion on British soil?
"No", came their reply, "We're going to kill them for drinking all of our Chateau de Chassilier wine." "And for the fact they made a big joke of it on At Last the 1948 Show a few days later on ITV."
"Oh." Sherlock and I said in unison. Sherlock continued with "I can have that information for you in a few minutes." Sherlock sat down at my computer, [MY Computer] and 2 minutes later, gave out the following names: "Tim Brooke-Taylor, John Cleese, Graham Chapman and Marty Feldman. Those are your prey, Badgers. Can Mrs. Hudson offer you tea, Bok choy, Crème Brule…?" "Bok choy makes our pee green. And does she do a real Brule? Or does she just brown the top?"
"Mrs. Hudson's just a housewife, widow to a Florida Gangster, and she just does my tea now." "If it's all the same to you we'll pass on the tea." "And now that you've fulfilled our first request, we have a second one." I said, "A problem with the Garden Gnome Badger War of 1812?" "Don't be daft Dr. Watson; it was during the 2nd Dorset Badger war of 2001. Four new men burnt down our new houses and took off with our Chateau de Chassilier wine." Sherlock asked "Did they make fun of your wine a few days later at the Secret Policemen's Ball on Channel 4?" "Yes", the badgers said in unison. "One moment", Sherlock replied. "The names of the newest four are: Harry Enfield, Alan Rickman, Eddie Izzard and Vic Reeves." "Wait a minute." Said the Ruger Badger. I've heard of them. And from that first list are those actors John Cleese and Marty Feldman?"
From Sherlock, "Yes, they are. In fact my dear Badger friends, all eight gentleman are actors and comedians. The Four Yorkshiremen is a comedy sketch the first group made famous before most went on to perform with the Monty Python team. It's been redone several times since 1967." Taurus Badger looked over Sherlock shoulder at pictures of all 8 men and said, "Morris, these are not the men we're looking for. What do you remember from that night the houses burnt down?" "Well, Bud, not much; I remember opening a bottle of the Chateau wine and waking up the next morn…." Morris wasn't able to finish his sentence as Bud began to wail loudly.
A timid "Sherlock?" from Mrs. Hudson, still downstairs; Sherlock replied. "It's nothing, Mrs. Hudson, just a Badger crying." "Oh…oh my." Bud soon stopped and Morris asked the dreaded question: "Bud what happened on those two occasions?" "It was us, Morris, we burnt our own homes. Those damn cigars we lit up caused a spark to fall into a pool of the wine we spilt." "The trail of spilt wine went all the way back to the houses and whoosh; dried twigs and leaves and they were gone. We did that twice in our lifetimes, Morris; twice." Bud began to cry again.
Sherlock's violin began to whine and stopped suddenly. "John, JOHN!" I heard. I blinked my eyes and the badgers were gone. "How did they get out of here so quickly?" "Who, John?" "The Badgers, Sherlock!"
"John, you fell asleep a half hour ago." "What were you playing?" "The 1812 Overture."
"Damn." I said, "It always gives me nightmares."