A few things to note: This is a PA-RO-DY. I do not normally write this ridiculously. Also, I am in NO way saying all High School AUs are poorly written, because they aren't. I've got an addiction to them and I enjoy them. You get the good and the bad, just like with everything else. However, I stumbled across a few things that niggled me, and so I made this. This is NOT making fun of any High School AU in particular, more like the genre of them. If this offends anyone, let me know. Also, this will not be continued and was intended to be this length.

A Study In Original Titles and Exciting Plotlines

John Watson adjusted his jumper-colored jumper and looked around his new high school with the glazed eyes of a deer that had been killed and mounted on a wall. He had recently transferred from Afghanistan High to Baker High, where his sister had gone her entire life, and he was nervous. The author had no good reason to make him transfer schools, nor did she have a good reason that he and his biological sister went to separate schools for their entire lives. But it probably had something to do with the army. Yeah, that was it.

John walked up to his locker, 221B, and twiddled in the combination. He wasn't sure why all the lockers in the school were 221 with a random slew of letters, but before he could dwell on it, a comic relief character blundered in before the drama even started. "John!" called Mike Stamford and he bounced forward with a cup of coffee because it was symbolic or some shit.

"I'm so miserable," said John miserably.

"HA! You're such a kidder, John. So how are you doing?"

"My life is a black abyss," said John like his life was a black abyss.

"Oh, John. You slay me. I've missed your sense of humor."

"Nothing happens to me, even though I've just transferred schools and should probably be excited. My life is so boring."

"How's your dog?"

"He got rabies and I had to shoot him," said John bleakly.

"John, please," said Mike Stamford around his laughter. "I can't breathe. Anyway, I've heard you transferred here now and you need a mentee."

"What the hell is that?"

"It's someone that follows you around like a loser and you accommodate them to the school. All senior students have them."

"Mike, why the hell would I have a mentee? That makes no damn sense. The author said I just transferred here and I therefore know jack-shit about this school. Also, the whole concept of a mentor/mentee system is really stupid."

"Look, John," said Mike with a sigh. "It's a metaphor to how in the show you need a flatmate. And if you persist on breaking the fourth wall, I'll have Lestrade the Hall Monitor taser you."

John thought for a moment, then wisely shut up.

"Thank you," said Mike assholishly. "Now back to how a complete newbie is going to lead around another complete newbie and hope that they don't get the crap kicked out of them."

"Come on, Mike," said John in a sentence that was completely original and never ever used or parodied, "Who would want me as a mentor?"

Mike tried to give him a knowing look, but it just made him look faintly nauseated. "You know, you're not the first person to say that to me today."

"OMG REALLY?" said John in Capital Letters.

"Yes," said Mike, and then there was a really exciting timeskip.

After the end of the timeskip, John blinked around disoriented. He was magically in a lab that was tricked out with all sorts of equipment a public school would never be able to afford. Between the cloning machine and the time-travel device was a sextastic man with sexy dark curls and a sexy purple shirt and sexy sexy pale skin of sex. He was looking into a microscope, but he looked up lazily when the pair came in. John noticed that his eyes were green-blue-grey-silver-turquoise-amethyst-chartreuse-mauve. Also they were sexy.

"You think you're competent," he said with a sexy wrinkle of his sexy nose. "This will never work out."

"How did you deduce that?" asked John with a dramatic gasp. Behind him, Mike smiled knowingly like a douche.

Sherlock sexily rattled off a lot of sexy deductions in his voice that was low and sexy like the seductive call of a bassoon. John gasped and swooned in an extremely out-of-character manner.

"Wow," he said. "That was amazing."

"That's not what people usually say."

"What do people usually say?"

"I don't know. It hasn't been used in enough fanfictions."

"I'm sexy," Sherlock said suddenly, "Distractingly so. I'm a jackass all the time to everyone, I fall in love unreasonably fast given canon interpretations and my personality, I'll cockblock every date you have for the rest of our life, and my older brother is Douchebag, King of the Trolls."

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked like a smitten virginal girl in a vampire romance novel.

"Because mentors should know how shitty their mentees are so they can bitch about them."

"What makes you think I'll agree to be your mentor?"

"Because," he said with an oh-my-god-you're-all-idiots-you're-lucky-I'm-the-fairy-princess-of-intelligence-and-can-make-the-turds-of-your-lives-into-fertilizer-from-which-knowledge-in-the-form-of-pretty-flowers-will-grow expression, "My gaydar is never wrong.

"The name is Sherlock Holmes. Meet me in the principal's office later, I left my sex appeal in the auditorium." Then he winked and swept out of the room for a dramatic final pose that the author desperately hoped for fanart of.

A/N: GUYS I HOPED YOU LIKED IT, I KNOW THIS HAS BEEN DONE 1,345,367,239 TIMES BUT I FEEL LIKE I CAN MAKE THIS ORIGINAL!