(this is pure crack and I regret nothing….well, sort of I mean…)

Sherlock Crack Chapter one
Black: Me
Red: T'Leyah
Blue: Hope

The day began with a murder. The town's constituents were ablaze with fear and rabid with rabies of sadness. The rabies of sadness was killing pedophiles. However, murder was still murder; so despite the rabies of sadness killing pedophiles, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson of 221 B Baker St. were on the case.

"Elementary, my dear Watson," Said Holmes, "is the common time period where a young child begins to-" Then suddenly there was an exploration coming from across the street.

It was Moriarty's 'Rabies-of-Sadness' creator backfiring.

"What in blue blazes was that? Holmes, we should investigate the cause of such disruption!" Watson suggested.

"Indeed we shall," Holmes said walking epically to the scene of the explosion, walking-cane in hand.

"Hold on!" Watson said, reaching out and grabbing Holmes' shoulder, "It could be dangerous…I don't want you to get hurt!"

Holmes turned around and held Watson's hand while cupping his cheek, "Dear Watson, you know I'll make sure my body is unharmed…for you."

"Ok," Said Watson, his faced flushed in red as he stared straight into Holmes' rich blue eyes.

"I have to go save the day," Said Holmes, "But before I do…"

(My friends had work to do and allowed me to continue on my own –most non-crack moment)

Sherlock leaned forward and pressed his lips to John's. At first it was slow and soft, a promise being made, but it didn't stay that way for long. They couldn't care, at that particular moment, about Moriarty and the rabies of sadness. Sherlock pushed John back into the house. They stumbled up the stairs and into the bedroom.

"Wait," Watson said, stopping Holmes' movements. "What about the Rabies of Sadness?"

"It's too late to stop him John," Sherlock replied, pushing John down onto the bed. "It's already happened. The only thing we can do is try and keep very happy so the rabies of sadness don't turn us into killers as well."

Sherlock climbed on top of John and kissed away the up-coming rebuttal. However, Sherlock pulled away to take off their shirts and the argument came anyway.

"But if everybody else is murderous, what happens if they come to kill us?" Watson asked as Sherlock slipped his shirt off.

Sherlock sighed and sat on John's legs. "Honestly. They're just going to have to wait now then won't they?"

Before John could utter another word, Sherlock began to remove his pants, and all words were lost.

(And then they came back and ruined my romance!)

"Holy shit, Sherlock, there's a llama on your taint!" Cried Watson.

"Is that really your main thought right now?" Sherlock responded.

Mycroft, bursting quite unwelcomed through the door, spoke before Watson could, "Don't worry Sherlock. I've come to save you from the llama…or rather save him from you."

"Oh, Mycroft, thawnk ya soo mawch! I jus' woke up and waz on this dude's ball sack," cried the llama.

(Then Hope got to freaked out and left )

"I'll have you know, Mycroft, that my ball sack happens to have never felt better," Sherlock said with a wink towards John.

"Sherlock, I could give a rat's ass about the condition of your troublesome bullocks, you are abusing that poor llama you twat!" Yelled Mycroft.

"You two don't suppose you could solve this later do you?" John asked, writhing on the bed.

"Not now, baby, the honor of my balls is at stake here!" Holmes retorted.

"Well, if you don't solve this soon, the honor of your balls won't matter any longer because they'll never be touched or seen again!" John yelled, losing his patience.

Horror stricken, Holmes yanked the mini-llama off his genitals and chucked it at Mycroft, skillfully knocking them both out the near-by 3-story window.

"Curse your balls!" Mycroft shouted as he fell on top of Moriarty below.

~end~