I haven't written fanfiction in for-freaking-ever. And I don't plan on starting a long story. However, this crackfic one-shot got in my head and it JUST WON'T LEAVE.
I own neither Sherlock (except for DVDs) nor do I own Mystery Science Theater 3000 (again, except for DVDs).
Characters might/will be extremely out of character. But it wouldn't be a crackfic otherwise. Also, I CAN sort of see Sherlock doing this.
Traditional Japanese Kabuki Play
"John, why are we here again?" Sherlock whispered. At the moment, the consulting detective, his blogger, Inspector Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, Sarah, and Mycroft Holmes were sitting in the front row of a local community theatre, awaiting something painful, Sherlock assumed.
"Because I was invited and Lestrade tricked you into thinking this was a case," John said matter-of-factly. Lestrade, overhearing, gave a nervous chuckle and throat-clearing at Sherlock's pointed glare. A scathing retort would have been in order had three costumed individuals taken the stage at that time. There was polite applause from everyone but Sherlock.
Sherlock bit his tongue to hold back all insults he would have hurled at the sight of Anderson in a long black wig what John called "KISS makeup" and Donovan in a kimono. Molly Hooper's kimono actually looked decent…maybe. It was hard to tell, the way she was cowering behind her parasol. Anderson cleared his throat and stepped forward.
"Hello and konichiwa!" he announced. "Tonight, we present a traditional Japanese kabuki play. Translated to English, this ancient work is entitled…Agatha Christie's 'The Mousetrap'!"
"Sherlock," John whispered quickly, "if you spoil the ending, all of England and their farmer's mums will murder you." Sherlock scoffed and turned his head back to the stage, where Donovan was stepping forward.
"Now, how many of you are familiar with Japanese theatre?" Donovan asked. Sherlock deduced quickly – Mrs. Hudson, Sarah, Lestrade, and John: a resounding NO. Mycroft: yes, but the way he was smirking at Sherlock indicated that he would not be raising his hand.
"Very well," Sherlock muttered and stuck one gloved hand in the air. Donovan's smile, forced as it was, became even tighter.
"Ah…yes, the fr—Sherlock," she covered quickly. "And do you enjoy kabuki theatre?"
"Actually, I prefer noh theatre," Sherlock said. John turned his head at Sherlock, while Mycroft's smirk grew wider. Donovan and Anderson looked puzzled.
"Well, then why did you raise your hand?" Anderson asked.
"Because I like noh theatre," Sherlock said plainly. "Noh plays are my favorite."
"So you don't like any theatre at all?" Anderson elaborated. Sherlock closed his eyes, bored already with this frustration.
"No, let me explain," he began. "Noh theatre is classic Japanese drama, noh plays have been produced since the thirteenth century, and noh actors are revered even today." He was surprised they didn't know this; if they were performing a kabuki play, surely they would have researched all forms of Japanese drama to decide in which form Agatha Christie's "The Mousetrap" would be put to best use.
Donovan shook her head, sneering in disbelief, identical to Anderson's facial expression. Molly simply watched the exchange silently.
"Why are you dissing Japanese theatre?" she asked, affronted. "What's your deal, freak?"
"Uh, Sherlock, I don't think this is—" John started, but Sherlock held a hand up.
"No, no, John, I got this," he insisted. "Now wait a minute, Sally, listen to me. Noh theatre started in Japan."
"Oh, so now you tell us Japan doesn't have any theatre whatsoever?" Anderson asked.
"They have lots of theatre, Anderson, including noh theatre," Sherlock said.
"So, they have lots of theatre, and they have no theatre," Donovan said conclusively.
"Exactly," Sherlock agreed, gesturing with his hand.
"What?" Anderson asked.
"No theatre," Sally repeated.
"Yes," Sherlock said.
"What?" Anderson repeated, Donovan joining him this time.
"Noh theatre: N-O-H," Sherlock spelled slowly. Everyone else nodded in vague understanding…except for the three on the stage of course. Donovan pinched the bridge of her nose, Anderson's white face was showing red cracks, and Molly still watched from the background.
"N-O-H, huh?" Anderson exclaimed, face paint cracking even more. "Well, there, you've just gone and shown what an idiot you are!" Donovan patted his shoulder gently.
"Hold on, hold on, I'll handle this, Anderson, just calm down," she said, turning to Sherlock. "Freak, I'm going to ask you a series of simple questions which even a cretin like you could answer 'yes' or 'no'." Sherlock rolled his eyes as she leant forward and spoke slowly. "Now, is there theatre in Japan?"
"Yes," he obliged her.
"Good! And do you have a favorite particular type of Japanese theatre?" she continued.
"Yes," Sherlock repeated. Donovan nodded and smiled a little.
"Well, good, good, now we're getting somewhere!" she said happily. "Freak, will you tell me the name of your favorite form of Japanese theatre?"
"Noh," Sherlock stated.
"Why not?" Donovan exploded.
"Why not what?" Sherlock asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Why won't you tell me your favorite Japanese theatre?"
"I just did!"
"Did what?"
"Told you my favorite form of Japanese theatre!"
"You did?"
"Yes."
"Well, will you tell me again?" Donovan asked through clenched teeth.
"Yes – noh," Sherlock answered through equally clenched teeth.
"Oh, COME ON!" Anderson exclaimed, tossing his wig on the floor in frustration.
"Freak, I'm gonna grab a stepladder so you can jump up my butt!" Donovan shouted. Dead silence.
"…I'm sorry, so I can do what?" Sherlock asked, disgusted. Anderson jammed his wig back on his head, hairline askew.
"May we do our little kabuki play now?" Anderson asked, exasperated. Sherlock shrugged.
"Go ahead, but remember, I like noh theatre more than I like kabuki theatre," Sherlock acquiesced.
"I THOUGHT YOU DIDN'T LIKE KABUKI!" Donovan yelled.
"I DON'T!" Sherlock yelled back. Donovan and Anderson's yells were unintelligible and interlaced with sobbing. Sherlock felt John's shoulder shaking, and he turned to see his blogger stifling laughter.
"That was brilliant," John said breathlessly, tears running from his eyes.
"You gotta mess with them every now and again," Sherlock whispered to him. He then turned to look at the rest of the audience. Lestrade was currently in the middle of his most impressive facepalm yet; Mycroft nodded his head in silent amusement; Sarah was on her iPhone, her mouth forming an "N-O-H" as she searched for the meaning of "noh theatre"; Mrs. Hudson was nibbling at a small tub of popcorn, asking if it was intermission yet.
There was a movement out of the corner of his eye. Molly was slowly raising her arm from behind her parasol.
"I get it, Sherlock," she said quietly.
For those of you who still don't get it, the original MST3K skit can be found on Youtube (search "MST3K noh theater"), and search for "Noh" on Wikipedia. For some reason, Fanfiction doesn't like links. Whatever.
Reviews are welcomed, but not required. As I said, this oneshot is good silly fun. If I made you smile or chuckle, my work here is done.
