Murder mystery party for Sherlock's birthday
"Sherlock," said John one day.
"Yes?" he replied.
"You do realise what today is, don't you?"
"Do I?"
"Today is the sixteenth of January."
"According to the Gregorian calendar."
"Shut it, Sherlock, we are not going through that lunar calendar rubbish again!" he snapped.
"Alright then. Today is the sixteenth of January."
"Does that ring any bells?" asked John.
"In the literal or metaphorical sense, John?" replied Sherlock.
"In any sense."
"Should it?" he said.
"Sherlock, the day a person is born is generally thought to be a momentous occasion worth celebrating each year," John replied, "Ring any bells now?"
"Not particularly," said Sherlock. The feel of a cushion colliding into his head told him that he had chosen the wrong answer.
"What's wrong, John?" cried Sherlock.
"Sherlock," exclaimed John, "It's your birthday!"
Sherlock went quiet. In a whisper, he said, "You remembered?"
"Yes," said John sympathetically.
"Good," he said, "your capacity for remembering dates has improved threefold!"
"Sherlock," moaned John, "I've arranged a surprise birthday party for you!"
"Well it's no longer a surprise now, is it?"
"Sherlock!"
"John!" he retorted, "I don't like surprises! It makes me feel insecure in my deductive abilities! I hate surprises!"
"That's not what you said the other night," John smiled.
"I didn't mean those sort of surprises," replied Sherlock.
At that moment, the doorbell rang. "This time," added John, "you can answer it! If you can remember where your keys are!"
The doorbell had rung several more times before Sherlock finally opened it. A loud cry of, "Happy birthday!" followed by a crowd of people ensued.
"Hey Shirley," remarked Jim as he entered, followed by Sebastian, "Don't mind me bringing some of the girls, do you? When John told me about this, I just couldn't resist. I said, 'I don't care, cancel the theft of the Mona Lisa, dissolve the Red Headed League, Holmes' is where I'm hanging tonight!'"
"Of course not," Sherlock replied in an underwhelmed monotone, "Just don't get any blood on the carpet. It's new."
"Oh please, Sherlock," said Jim, "you know I never do the dirty work!"
"You said something different last night," interjected Sebastian, "You're a right hound of the Baskervilles!" Jim and Sebastian hooted in laughter.
"You don't mind Sebastian being here, do you?" asked Jim.
"It's alright," said Sebastian, "I left my rifle at home!"
"Oh, stop it, Sebastian," replied Jim, "Save that for later."
Their shrill laughter echoed across the walls.
"Hello, hello, sonny," roared Lestrade.
"Good evening, Inspector," said Sherlock, "Shouldn't you be arresting Jim over there?"
"On most occasions," replied Lestrade, "I would, but I thought that we could just save it til after the surprise."
"Surprise?" replied Sherlock, puzzled, "I thought this was the surprise!"
"No," interrupted John, "The surprise is a murder mystery party! Jim's agreed to play Moriarty, Queen…I mean King, of crime."
"King? Surely Napoleon is a better term?" added Sherlock.
"Yeah, whatever," said Jim, "I'm not French, but whatever works for you."
"I prefer Swiss," winked Sebastian.
"I wouldn't worry," added Lestrade, "I've brought along my truncheon!"
They all shrieked with laughter again. At this point, Sherlock had had enough. He went to the draw of his desk, pulled out the white packet of cocaine and said, "Here, have what you came for."
An hour later, when Lestrade, Jim and Sebastian as well as McMurdo, Slaney and Ross were all stoned out of their skulls, lying on the floor, John and Sherlock started to tidy up.
"Well," said John, "Did you enjoy that?"
"John," replied Sherlock, "I just gave away a whole bag of crack. It cost me five hundred pounds. How would you feel?"
"Oh Sherlock," groaned John, "Can't you appreciate anything I do?"
"Look John, the fact remains that I just don't like surprises."
"Really?" replied John, "Not even my surprise birthday present for you?"
John took out a small, wrapped package from behind his back and gave it to Sherlock. As Sherlock unwrapped it, he remained speechless. Finally, the wrapping paper gave way to a small cardboard box.
"Excited to see what's in it?" asked John, smiling.
"As long as it's not a pair of ears, I'm all for it," replied Sherlock, pulling off the lid. From the box he pulled out a thin, vibrant red coloured garment.
"A G-string?" said Sherlock.
"Why don't you go try it on?" smirked John. Sherlock beamed broadly and, as he followed John into the bedroom, said, "I could get used to this surprises business."