"Of course I could, if I had such a base inclination," Sherlock retorted blearily. "Although it hardly seems a promising venue for meeting anyone of interest."
John looked around the pub. "No, you couldn't. I can't imagine you even trying. I bet you wouldn't have any idea at all what to say."
"Watch me," Sherlock slurred. He got up, stumbled to the bar, put one foot up on the brass rail and one elbow on the counter near two attractive women, and addressed them loudly. "Avast, me proud beauty," he said, grimacing as he spoke, "N' a right good eve'nin t'ye as well, me comely wench." His surprised audience listened to him with growing amusement. "Sure'n ye be know'in I'd like t' swill a pint or two of grog with the lasses, and I've the doubloons fer it n' make no mistake."
"Aye, n' clear it is, matey, that ye be three sheets t' the wind, and we'd be repellin' all such scurvy boarders," one of them replied, grinning. But she gave him a peck on the cheek for his trouble.
John rolled his eyes as Sherlock swayed his way back. "Too much rum for you," he observed. "September 19th, International Talk Like a Pirate Day. And ye hardly a landlubber at it, neither. Learnt it as a lad, belike."
.
Author's Note: See, if he had made the other choice, we still would have had the BBC series. It just would have been a different BBC series.