"Bloody hell, Jim! Just quit it with the fire already, you've already burnt the flat down once; I don't exactly want it to happen again. I really don't like having to tell the owner of the flat that his house was burnt down while he was a way 'cause you lit all the matches at once and put them in a pile in the sitting room to watch 'em burn, JUST BECAUSE YOU WERE BORED!" Sebastian Moran's sudden outburst surprised Jim, who just started blinking, "But-"

"No, Jim! I don't care if you like it because it's destructive, or warm, or jus- jus- just- just- fire, don't burn matches in the house!"

"I like the fire for all of those reasons," Jim put the match he'd been staring at drop into the sink. "Also, it's pretty." Sebastian stared at Jim for a moment, "Why am I surprised? Of course you'd think it's pretty." Jim started to look annoyed. "What if I needed to light a candle?"

"I got you that candle heating plate when you killed the shelf."

"Killed the shelf!" The psychopathic mastermind sounded indignant, "It was only scorched a bit!"

"'Scorched a bit? Scorched a bit?! It was reduced to ashes! And we still can't get the stain off the wall from when you somehow got a hold of that stupid flamethrower!" Jim looked positively scary at this "It wasn't stupid." He then just walked away calmly. Seb bit his lower lip, and hoped he wouldn't be killed.

Later that night, Jim Moriarty, Consulting Criminal, and genius, decided to do something about his friend's audacity. Complaining about Jim. Jim could have him killed! But he would never think of doing that. He was a good sniper. Jim was still going to make him pay though. So he slipped into Sebastian's room, hoping that the man was a very heavy sleeper. Moriarty, quietly, and carefully slipped the handcuffs over Seb's hand and foot, and clicked it into place. Then he dug the key for the handcuffs from his pocket and put it on the center of his tongue. Jim grimaced, in his opinion the key tasted too metallic-ey. Using his tongue, he pushed the key to the back of his mouth, and swallowed.

"Grachk!" Jim's sudden hacking awoke Moran, who promptly fell out of bed.

"Jim…? What the-? JIM!"

"Mm- Erg- Well that's done, good, that thing didn't taste very pleasant."

"Jim, you've had your fun-"

"You think swallowing a piece of metal this long is fun? You have an odd sort of sense of fun. I'd rather go camping, for the campfire!"

"Metal? Why were you swallowing metal…? Oh, forget it! You've had your fun, now get this thing off of me!"

"No,"

"Why is that?" Moran's voice lowered to a growl.

"Because I can't" Jim spoke this sentence with delight.

"What do mean you 'can't'?"

"Because I don't have the key anymore."

"Anymore? Meaning?"

"I swallowed it!" Sebastian half jumped half fell toward Jim in an attempt to strangle him "I WILL KILL YOU JIM, I SWEAR I WILL!" Finally, Jim ran.

It took the entire day to get the handcuffs off, with many knives, cuts, scrapes, bangs, yells, threats, crowbars, screams, hammers, shrieks, throbbing thumbs, and hairpins. Eventually though, Jim (and his throbbing thumb) was able to pick the lock with a lock picking kit (that he'd just conveniently forgotten about until then). Later on that day Sebastian could hear Jim making a phone call.

"Yes hello? …I'm Richard Moran, a friend of mine, erm, swallowed a key, and we're- …. Yes a key…. Like a house key, a bit smaller… I don't know how big it was exactly, he swallowed it! Anyway we're wondering what might happen, like are there any internal problems we should worry about- … Um, this morning….. That doesn't help…. I- He's not coming in… He doesn't want to…. He's a germaphobe…. Jus- He's not coming in, alright… um- just- hey! Shut up or I'll kill you in your pitiful sleep! Hello? Hello? Hello? Urgh!"

Moral: Don't dare anger Jim Moriarty