And now, welcome to the real 22nd century part of the story.

(skip to story if you don't want to read Cyr's random blabbering. If you do want to read it, (I love you) go ahead. 'Tis an majorly long disclaimer/ explaination,sort of...)

A few things to notea) There's a ton of subliminal messages going through in the following scenes, and most of them are good-- like women gaining more jobs/ having better futures. However this is a parody and nothing is sacred in satire. So while I wholeheartedly support women's rights, in future chapters the reader might come acrosscertain lines being parodied (they were too corny to resis--er, some of them were just asking for it) .

b) Abbreviations are random. R. Wat. is Robo-Watson, or Robot Watson (whichever you prefer), and Lest. is Lestrade. Mori. still abbreviates Moriarty because he technically hasn't changed in appearance (nor has Holmes, still denoted Holm.). They're not even in this chapter, but I might as well get it out of the way because I'll probably forget

c) T-rating is for swearing, long oaths, and probable oyster madness that the kiddies shouldn't see for fear of sacrificing their poor sanity...but again, that's another chapter.

Thanks for reading!

--cy.


(Scene opens on Big Ben in a much modernzied version of London. Clearly, the time has changed. No longer do horse-drawn carriages populate the streets, instead vehicles hover and soar above the ground fromdestination to destination. Suddenly, a car sweeps past the camera, closely followed by a second one, which appears to have police markings. The latter smashes into a statue of Lord Nelson.)

Lest. Zed! Stupid artifact.

R. Wat. (in a robotic voice) Correction needed. Statues have no brains, therefore cannot think, and their mental prowess cannot be ascertained.

Lest. Watson, I don't need to hear that right now, okay?

(The car careens as LESTRADE pulls away from another impending collision. The car she avoided then proceeds to crash into Lord Nelson as well.)

Lest. Another one! Poor guy. Why do people think that they can get away with stuff like this? For crying out loud, it's an artifact they're destroying! Don't they ever consider that?

R. Wat. Irony detected.

Lest. (offended at lack of courtesy shown the statue) When you think about it, it's amazing he's still standing with all those people that smash into him every day. If I didn't have to go after Fenwick, I'd give them a digi-ticket for Nelson-bashing.

R. Wat. Overload, overload.

Lest. Oh, shut up.

R. Wat. (rather miffed) Damage report sent.

Lest. So, it's mock me first and then report me, huh? Typical. (on loud speaker) This is Inspector Lestrade of New Scotland Yard. Slow down.

Fen. (also on loud speaker, but with decidedly French accent) As if I would, Yardie! Catch me if you can!

(LESTRADE's car fires a few small lasers at FENWICK's car. Almost immediately, his car falls down.)

Lest.Wow. That was surprisingly not challenging. (celebrating) Try and mock the Yardie now, why don't you?

(FENWICK's car knocks out lightpost after lightpost as it twirls to a stop.)

R. Wat. (as one lightpost hits the ground) Damage report sent. (another does) Damage report sent. (and another) Damage report sent. (again) Damage report sent. (and one last one) Damage report sent.

Lest. (stunned for a moment, then) If I didn't know better, I'd swear he enjoys this. All postsnoted and accounted for, Watson?

R. Wat. Affirmative.

(FENWICK climbs out of the car on his hands and knees. The audience sees him appearing as rather grotesque. LESTRADE disembarks and walls up to him, laser gun in hand.)

Lest. And this, children, is why you should never experiment with odd genetic hypothesises on yourself. You'll end up with blue skin, no hair on your head except for the sides, and misshapen eyes by the time you're thirty.

Fen. (breaking own into tears) Oh how I wish I'd never done it! My own family refuses to recognize me! I'm a disgrace to my homeland!

Lest. Where is your homeland, exactly?

Fen. France, mademoiselle.

Lest. But why is your name Fenwick? Why not Rosseau or Carriere or Cartier? Fenwick doesn't sound French at all.

Fen: (hopeless) See? My country's already disowned me!

Lest. Whatever you are, you're wrecking havoc on English soil on my shift. Follow me.

Fen. (rolling the 'r') Never!

(LESTRADE shoots FENWICK with a laser beam from her gun. He struggles against the two green bands which restrain him.)

Fen. Urgh! Mais non! Green is not a good color on me! Orange, inspector, please change it to orange.

Lest. Sorry, Fenwick. Half the punishment is being forced to wear oddly colored restraining bands all the way down to the station.

(Suddenly, FENWICK's car flys up, seemingly of its own accord. As it flys past, the audience gets a brief glimpse of the driver, who appears to be MORIARTY.)

Fen. And there's loyalty for you! I raised him, fed him, taught him everything he knows, and he goes off and abandons me.

Lest. (confused, has not yet identified the face) Wait, who was that?

Fen. You don't know?

Lest. He looks familiar...wait! Was he on one of those safe moon-tanning commercials?

Fen. (disgusted) No, of course not!

Lest. But he looked so tanned...

Fen. (muttering to himself) Zut! Added too much acid again...

Lest. (suddenly recognizes the driver) My grandfather and his grandfather before him and his great-grandfather's grandfather and his grandfather's--

Fen. Get to the point, Yardie.

Lest. He made me study that picture until it was engrained in my memory. Until I could never, ever forget that face. The one man that the Lestrade line never was able to defeat--(dramatic pause) Professor James Moriarty!

Fen. Give the girl a prize, now she gets it.

Lest. (defensive) You can't blame me, though. I never thought he'd look so orange in person.

Fen. (under his breath) Drat!

Lest. (roughly handling FENWICK into the police car) Alright, in you go.

Fen. My master will save me!

Lest. You honestly think he's going to show his tangerine complexion around here again? He's probably so embarassed that he drove off to get some concealer. (considering) And I can't say I blame the poor guy. After all these centuries, he's back and has been made a complete fool of.

Fen. Laugh now, Yardie. One day, he'll be your worst nightmare!

Lest. With a mug like that, he already is. Now get in the car nicely and I won't have to use force. (turning to the robot) Watson.

R. Wat. Inspector?

Lest. File a report to headquarters. Tell 'em to prep to the crypto, we've got a perp coming in.

(LESTRADE drives off to the station with R. WATSON and FENWICK in tow. On the way out, sheflies into the other side of Lord Nelson's hat. Cries of "Zed!", "Damage report filed", and "Watch your driving, Yardie!" echo in the background as they drive off and the scene fades out to black.)