Captain Sherlock raced to the bow of the ship. His faithful first mate, Redbeard, had just run the bell that meant trouble was afoot. As he stared over the prow of the boat, he scowled. It wasn't just trouble, it was terror of the first kind.
"But we be not scared, eh, Redbeard? We'll take down this monster once and for all! Ready the cannons!" Redbeard panted, his tongue hanging out in a brave and jaunty manner. Captain Sherlock picked up the bag of water balloons he had prepared for just such an occasion, took aim, and...
"Mycroft, you big stupidhead! You ruined my game!"
"Honestly, Sherlock. You expect me to stand here and let myself be drenched when I'm meeting the Secretary of State in two hours? I refuse to fall for that trick again."
"Well, if you knew I would do that, why did you walk past anyways? Now your umbrella is soaked!"
"Because now you don't have any water balloons left to get me with later. My umbrella will dry in an hour or so; my suit would not. Now go back to your game."
Sherlock narrowed his eyes, then suddenly they widened again as he had an idea. This would teach Mycroft to waste his water balloons!
He waited until he was sure Mycroft was back in his room,probably plotting ways to get rid of Sherlock like Sherlock did him, then he put Redbeard in his elevator and climbed out of the tree house. As soon as he hit the ground, he walked across the yard and into the kitchen, trying to look apologetic on case Mycroft looked out his window.
The first step to any plan is to assemble the materials needed. In this case, they were one of the last two slices of chocolate cake, ground walnuts (Mycroft was horribly allergic to them and broke out in hives at the slightest provocation) , a bag of sprinkles, a plate, and paper and pen.
Next, he applied the materials. He picked up the bag of ground walnuts and sprinkled them all over the cake, thick enough to make Mycroft sick but not thick enough to notice under the layer of sprinkles he was putting on.
... He dusted the other slice in ground walnut as well, just to be sure.
Then he wrote 'Sorry.' on the piece of paper and set everything on the plate, which was then set in front of Mycroft's door. He knocked, a good, loud knock, and ran into his room, sure that his plan would succeed.
Mycroft opened the door and looked down. He saw the plate of cake and the note and frowned. His brother was never apologetic with reason. And why had he put so many sprinkles on the cake? Mycroft didn't quite think his brother would do something to it, but better safe than sorry, right?
He brought the cake downstairs,regretfully throwing it into the garbage can, and got out a new slice.
Half an hour later, Mycroft Holmes was covered in massive, itch y, purple hives, and was completely unfit to meet the Secretary of State.