Chapter 1
Two people were sitting in a therapist's office on a rainy day. One of them was a main character, and the other will probably never be seen again.
The latter, who was a therapist, wrote something down on her notepad. "Alright. On a scale of one to ten, how are you feeling right now? Answer with yes or no."
"...I have no idea how to answer that question."
"Yes or no."
"...Yes."
In a faraway land, Lorne Malvo shot up a bunch of people in an elevator.
"So how is your blog going?"
"Uh, yeah. It's good. Real good." John Watson, a small angry blond man, nodded unenthusiastically at the thought of his new blog.
"You haven't written a word, have you?"
"I wrote a word!" John protested. "It was...my password...but hey, it's a start!"
"John, you're a soldier, and it's gonna take you a while to adjust to civilian life. And writing a blog about everything that happens to you will honestly help you."
Outside the office, a flaming police box crashed into the ground, exploding upon impact. John shrugged. "Nothing ever happens to me."
-Elsewhere-
Lestrade, Donovan, and some other guy who looked vaguely like a dinosaur were stuck in a press conference about serial suicides.
"Detective Inspector, how can the suicides be linked?" asked one of the reporters.
Lestrade took a sip from his coffee. "Hell if I know."
"Sir, please, I am just trying to write an article."
"They all took the same poison," Donovan piped up. "And they were all found in places they had no reason to be. None of them had shown any prior indication of—"
"But you can't have serial suicides," another reporter interrupted.
Lestrade took another sip of his coffee, which everyone suspected was actually brandy. "Haha idk."
Just then, everyone's phone rang with a text notification that just said: Wrong!
"It says wrong," one of the reporters observed.
"No fucking shit it does, Susan!" another reporter screamed. "Always tryna point out the obvious!"
Another text: Wrong!
At this, the room broke out in a full out brawl. One of the reporters threw a chair, then a table, then an entire person.
Lestrade shrugged. "Okay."
-ElseElsewhere-
After being called to an intervention meeting about his blog, John went to get some coffee. He was planning to spend the rest of the day in his apartment doing literally nothing, but a loud cry off to the side sent those plans down the drain.
"EYYYYYY Johnny boy! Wassup?"
"Hello...Mike…"
Mike Stamford was sitting on one of the benches in the park, several thousand coffee cups scattered around him. The resulting caffeine rush had enlarged his eyes to the size of the moon, even though it was not quite nine PM. "What's been up with you, bro?"
"We haven't spoken since college," John said since he was an actual trash can.
"I've been great!" Mike continued as though he hadn't heard him. Maybe he hadn't, since his eyes took up most of his face. "Where have you been living these days?"
"In a shoebox in the middle of the road," John answered with shifty eyes. "I'm too broke to afford a flat by myself, and I doubt anyone would want to share a flat with me."
Mike chuckled. "You're the fifth person to say that to me today!"
"...Who was the first?"
"A small old lady living in a dumpster. The second was a cat that used sign language to communicate with me. The third was an ancient being older than time itself…"
"I've decided I don't care anymore. Bye." John left.
"The fourth was the strangest and smallest gay I've ever met…"
-In Some Other Part of London-
A strange small gay was working in a morgue in some other part of London. His name was Sherlock Holmes, and his cheekbones were large enough to shelter several small children in the face of a medium-sized storm, or protect the sick and wounded from the cruelty of the world.
There was a strange rubbery noise as Mike's enormous eyes squeezed through the door, followed by the rest of his body and John. "Eyo Sherlock! What's up?"
"I'm sciencing." Sherlock was pouring a chemical back and forth between two beakers. Suddenly it bubbled over and spilled onto his hand, giving him third degree acid burns. "Ok."
"Those are third degree burns," John pointed out unnecessarily. "Shouldn't you get that, like, fixed?"
"I'm afraid not. Death is inevitable, Sexy Army Man Whose Name I Don't Know," Sherlock said.
"I'm John Watson."
"John…" A solid five minutes of homoerotic staring occurred. Mike stared at everything since his large eyeball capacity allowed for that.
Just then, Molly walked in with coffee.
"Wow, that was fast," Sherlock commented. "Usually there's a long line."
"There was. And there still is a long line, but none of them are moving anymore." Molly left the room, leaving an ominous chill behind.
Sherlock turned back to John. "How do you feel about the violin?"
"Well, I guess it's a nice instrument, though I'm really more a saxophone guy—"
"I don't care anymore. Wanna move in together?"
"Well, I don't see why not…"
"Sometimes I play the violin and at other times I don't talk for days. I have a tendency to lie flat on various objects and sometimes I pretend to die, then come back to life."
"You sound an awful lot like a vampire."
Sherlock cleared his throat nervously. "Well...you sound a lot like an Army doctor who's been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him – possibly because he's an alcoholic; more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic – quite correctly, I'm afraid."
There was another solid five minutes of staring. John's eye twitched. "What the fuck?"
"I think that's enough to be going on with." Sherlock walked backwards around the desk and towards the door. "The name is Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221b Baker Street. Afternoon!" He backwards-walked into the door.
John looked into the camera with a worried expression. "Alright then."
Welcome to my new BBC Sherlock parody! Basically the premise of my parodies is that every character is insane and there are one or two concerned bystanders (one of them will always be Martin Freeman). I've written a Hobbit one if you want to check that out.
Leave a comment letting me know what you thought, and which character you are excited to meet next!