The Structural Composition of Folly - Epilogue


From: Misha Collins
Date: December 20th, 2011 3:07:37 AM GMT+09:00
To: .uk
Subject: And the winner is...

Greetings Gishwhesheans, and Team 221!

The winner is... wait for it...

Allow me to explain my process in judging the literally 10s of thousands of items submitted. As you know, I like to be thorough and fair, so I look at each submission for 5 minutes without blinking. Then, I record my impressions in essay form. (If I blink, I start the clock again.) Then, to make sure there is not a circadian bias, I also recheck each submission at midnight, sunrise, high noon, and sunset, and again record my feelings, this time in the form of improvised song.

Also, to make sure I am really giving each masterpiece its due, I dream about the items during brief concussion-induced black-outs throughout the day and when I come to, I paint my dreams in oil on large canvases. As a final precaution, to eliminate human error, I share my essays, songs, and paintings with a particle physicist, a statistician, an ordained priest, and a psychotherapist, and make an audio recording of their feedback in an invented language only we speak. Then, and only then, do we assign points. While this is obviously an efficient process, it does take some time.

'Yes, all right, Misha!' I hear you thinking. 'Shut your pie hole and tell us who won already!'

I have to tell you, this was not an easy decision. There were dozens of incredible teams and thousands of ass-kicking submissions. I was blown away by your creativity, enthusiasm and by the chaos you all created. Thanks for being a collective inspiration.

Now. The winner is…

Team 221. They were simply amazing. They went above and beyond, they usually followed the rules, they walked away with the most points and they won. To everyone one Team 221, I look forward to meeting you in Rome.

Thank you for mostly following the Rules of the Hunt.

And that's why I love you,

Misha.


Sherlock showed John the message on his mobile, eyes narrowed in pleasure at his team's victory. John smiled lazily and tucked his head against Sherlock's shoulder, hitching a leg over his lover's long ones.

"Congratulations, Mr. Holmes-Watson. Another thing to celebrate."

"Indeed. Starting now, I think." John's giggle was quickly muffled as Sherlock rolled over and pressed his mouth to his husband's.

Thank God for GISHWHES, was the doctor's last thought before the consulting detective drove all others from his mind.


~Really the end this time. I swear.~

Thanks to the prompter, without whose idea I would never have immortalized the madness of The Greatest International Scavenger Hunt The World Has Ever Seen. Also, to the lovable and insane Misha Collins whose brainchild the Hunt was, and from whose emails I freely quoted and redacted.

Special thanks to J., who involved me in GISHWHES by proxy, and with whom I thrashed out the system for choosing challenges for Sherlock to do while we ate British meat pies in a pub in Tokyo. We actually did choose the five by random number generator, and tossed the ones that Sherlock couldn't do personally due to geography or whatever. See, I do strive for authenticity even in my crack.

THERE, J.! I am glad you liked it. Next time I will definitely sign up for the Hunt!