Part 2
"Bored!"
Bang. The bullet crashed into the familiar, bullet ridden eye of the yellow smiley face, spray painted on the living room wall of 221B Baker Street. Wood chips scattered onto the couch below.
"Bored!"
Bang.
"Bored. Bored. BORED!"
The three gunshots echoed his every word as Sherlock Holmes pranced about the living room, shooting the pistol wildly, restless and of course, bored.
Bang. The door flew open and John Watson stood at the frame, panting for his breath.
"Sherlock, what-." John sighed. "You're bored aren't you."
Sherlock tossed the pistol onto the table; it clattered against empty bottles of wine and empty nicotine boxes. He curled up in his armchair and flexed his toes.
"I need a case, John! I haven't had one since I've returned and if I don't get a good one soon, my brain will crumble and rot away. OH GOD. JOHN."
John raised his eyebrows curiously.
"John, I need some. Get me some."
John sighed again.
"And how am I supposed to get you one when you're supposed to be dead?"
Sherlock turned away.
"Oh come on Sherlock."
At that moment, Mrs. Hudson appeared at the doorframe.
"John?" she squeaked. "What was that noise? Are you talking to someone?" She gasped when she saw the fresh bullet holes in the wall.
"John Hamish Watson! What have you done to my wall!?"
"The wall had it coming." Sherlock drawled from his armchair.
"Sherlock!" she squealed, her eyes grew big and round in her old skull.
Sherlock smiled, turning the right corner of his lips into his genuine, intriguing smirk.
"Hello ."
Thud.
Mrs. Hudson, the landlady of 221B Baker Street had fainted.
What do you think? fanfic is cutting out some of my words in the sentence so I'm sorry if there are sentences that seem clunky. Please feedback me!