Sherlock Holmes and the Extraordinary Case of the Singing Sausage
Author's note: A drabble brought on by finals-completion-induced creativity. My first SH fic. Enjoy!
This story is dedicated to Baroness Orc and Sherlockian Girl, the ones who urged me to read SH in the first place. Many happy returns!
*****
Watson was sitting in the apartment, waiting for something very important. He counted down the seconds: "forty-five, forty-four, forty-three…" He glanced at his watch—wait, he was counting faster than his watch was ticking. His count was all off: he would have to begin again.
"Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight…" After a good twenty seconds, Watson's counting was interrupted by a high-pitched squealing noise, followed by repeated explosions.
Sherlock Holmes's voice came from the other side of the door. "Turn it off!" The flustered detective threw open the door, ran to the wall, and detached a large cord from it. "What were you thinking, Watson, waiting that long?"
"Why Holmes, my count was all off, so I had to begin again."
Sherlock Holmes rolled his eyes. "You have to keep an eye on these things, not judge them merely by time alone. I would have only given it sixteen and one-half seconds, at the very least."
"I'm sorry, Homes. I have not your skill with these contraptions."
"Watson, I am never letting you cook sausage in the microwave by yourself ever again."
"How did you know I was cooking sausage in the microwave?" Watson marveled.
"Only sausages make a squeal of that particular frequency (high B flat) when they are in danger of being overcooked. Only microwaves have the danger of blowing things up when you overcook in them. Although it is high anachronistic of the author of this ridiculous story, I could tell that you were cooking sausage in a microwave," Holmes said, exasperated. "I think I shall go and practice my violin now. At least I have a note to tune off of."