"John. What...is...that?"
"I know you 'delete' stuff from your mind, Sherlock, but surely even you know what this is."
"It's an animal."
"A cat, to be precise. I would have thought a great consulting detective like yourself would be able to work that out."
"Why do you have a cat?"
"I found her on the way home from work."
"And you have it with you because...?"
"Well, she was injured. So I took her to the vets."
"You haven't answered my question."
"I'm looking after her until the vet can trace her proper owners."
"Why?"
"I didn't want to just leave her at the vets. Besides, it might be fun."
"..."
"Stop sulking, Sherlock."
Ten minutes later
"John. The thing is staring at me."
"Not thing, Sherlock. Mischief."
"Mischief?"
"That's her name."
"Good God."
"..."
"It's still staring."
"Maybe she wants you to play with her."
"I will not stoop to the level of playing with irritating furballs."
"Well I'm going to the shop to buy some stuff for her so you'll just have to deal with her."
"What? Wait! John! Come back! John...?"
"..."
"Damn."
Over the next fifteen minutes
"Go away, cat...I said go away...Stop looking at me...No! No leave that alone!...That paper will save a man's life...Don't do that...Get off me...I said get off!...Stop it!...Ahh, I have an idea..."
Half an hour later
"Sherlock, I'm back."
"..."
"Sherlock...where's the cat?"
"What cat?"
"You know what cat. Mischief! Where is she?"
"I have no idea."
"..."
"..."
"SHERLOCK! WHY IS THE CAT IN THE WASHING MACHINE?"
"It was an experiment."
"..."
"John...what are you doing? John! John, put the knife down. MRS HUDSON...HELP!"