John walked in the flat to see Sherlock sitting on the floor in his pajamas, surrounded by an array of paperclips. He stopped in the doorway, his coat halfway off, his mouth open in shock and confusion.
"Sherlock, what the hell is this? Where did you get all these paperclips?" John slid off his coat and stepped quickly inside. He closed the door in case Mrs. Hudson decided to come up and check on them.
"I found them, and kept them, and decided today I'm going to sort them. Organization is everything, you know. I crave organization." Sherlock didn't look up as he talked, his hands darting everywhere to place the clips in separate piles. "Sit down, you're putting me off."
"I'm putting you- never mind." John sat in his favourite chair. "Also, that can't be true. Nothing in this flat is organized at all. If you 'craved' organization it would be."
"Wrong." Sherlock continued to sort. John waited.
"Care to elaborate?" John asked. Sherlock shook his head. "Well what are you going to do with the paperclips?"
"Put them in separate labeled boxes, place them on a shelf, turn them backwards so I can't see the labels, and forget about them until I need them again. What are you going to do with them?"