Act I, Scene III

In a courtroom in London, a shit show is in progress. One of the many inventions of the great Sherlock Holmes has gone awry. And this time, he's done more damage to 221B Baker Street than the landlady, Mrs. Hudson, is willing to overlook.

She's arrived, to testify against him. John Watson and his wife Mary are here, too. Again, this is not a good day for Sherlock.

Mycroft is here...but just for thrills. He's prepared to take his brother in, in case this doesn't go Shirley's way. Too bad the Judge doesn't seem to think this is a good idea. As brothers, Shirley and Mycroft would've codepended one another in SO many mischievous acts, as boys.

As Exhibit A, Gladstone the Bulldog takes a nap. Anyone else would think he's dead. Watson sure does. Holmes has drugged him with a very powerful sedative, of course. By now, poor Gladstone is probably up in Valhalla, chasing the golden rabbits up there...

At an organ, the Accompanist plays an intro, and keeps her instrumentation in tune. London doesn't have very many courtrooms with organs...or even jazz bands... But then, this is a German opera, isn't it?

The Accompanist takes a break from playing, as the Judge enters the room. By then, all have risen...at the bailiff's command. Judge Hudson remains standing...but commands the room to be seated.

All twelve jurors are female. At this, Sherlock scoffs. Who could be behind this?

The Judge opens, with a sung intro. The Accompanist goes back to her organ, and backs her up.

Now, the Accompanist performs the famous first eight notes of Beethoven's 5th Symphony...

Come, come, all of London, gather around

And witness the case of Hudson vs. Holmes

Or rather, Hudson vs. Holmes CCCXII

I know it sounds crazy, but you're in good company...

The plaintiff's my sister; I've known her for years

And I know when she's upset, she never does bluff

We both know, because we both get that from Mum

God bless her soul, as she rests in a grave...

She rests in a grave, a grave, a grave,

She rests in a grave, a grave, a grave,

Boys like to come urinate on it

But you can't kill God with piss!

At this, Sherlock scoffs. He's a nihilist; he doesn't believe in Jehovah. Behind him and across the room, Mycroft grins. Mary Watson is beaming...but only because she very much savors the thought of Sherlock getting twenty years for wronging his landlady.

The Judge continues.

The defendant and my sister have always been at odds

Why she ever took him in, I'd never know

As a Judge, I must be objective on such matters

But for the record, if it were me, I would've evicted him after less than three days!

Here, she acknowledges her stenographer. "Darling? If you don't mind, DON'T write that down."

Her stenographer pauses in stupification...and then struggles to erase what he's already stenographed, before her boss continues...

God bless Sis's soul, she's had a bad row

Tenant Holmes is responsible for over 300 fires

All set to her wonderful house, 221B Baker Street

In one of the loftiest Georgian terraces you'll ever see...

I was raised in one of these terraces as a girl

At the time, our neighborhood was loved for its security

Never, did you ever meet a neighbor up or down

With half the same insanity streak as the dreaded Mr. Holmes...

The dreaded Mr. Holmes, Mr. Holmes, Mr. Holmes,

O infernal dear Holmes, blast you Holmes, beat it Holmes

I'd probably kill you

If not for the law!

At this, Mrs. Hudson grins. (The plaintiff; not the Judge.) Sherlock, meanwhile, only smiles, while being insulted by his landlady's arbitrary sister.

Men like Holmes should not live in the city

Wherever pot is sold, it poses a threat

And dear Mr. Holmes, here, has a history with it

He sniffs it through his nose, and then invents weaponry

"Or something just as destructive," the Judge speaks.

Pardon him, if you will, but you won't have my pardon

If he goes back to Baker Street, he'll do the same shite

It's already bad enough that my sister knows who he is

Men like him need to be crucified atop the Anglican Church

The Anglican Church, the Church, the Church!

The sweet sacred Church, the Church, the Church!

Crucifixion wasn't specific to Jesus, contrary to what you've been taught,

Roman officials did it all the time!

"And a lot of them did it in London, too," she adds, while speaking. "Or, LONDONIUM, as they named our great city at the time..."

For the time being, the prosecution will rest its case

But at any moment, it's subject to reactivation

It all depends on how well a sport Mr. Holmes now becomes

And how much he respects Baker Street to keep living there

Hearings must be prompt; I will not drag this out

I've probably already done that, but what the fuck?

So here, I will pause, and ask dear Mr. Holmes the golden question...

Here, there's a pause in the music.

Mr. Holmes...what the hell or the fuck do you plead?

On the organ, the Accompanist plays one last dramatic forte. The courtroom goes silent, while anticipating Holmes's plea.

Here, Holmes grins...and stands. He's in prison drab...and in chains. As this happens, one of the oboists in the jazz band plays a dirge, as Holmes opens with his first aria of the German opera:

First of all, Your Honor, I must protest

Of the corruption that comes from being tried by a relative of the plaintiff

If this were the NAU, that'd probably be illicit

But then, why the hell do I think I haven't been extradited to the NAU already?

At this, most of everyone in the court laughs. This excludes Mrs. Hudson and Watson...but includes Mycroft...and to a limited extent, Mary.

As most of you know, I am a man of many words

Hence, this dirge is more of a courtesy; I am rarely melancholic

To filibuster, it'd take way too long

Plus, I'm sure as a corrupt judge, you'd cut me off before I was through

So, for a change, I think I'll get a bit more...political

Now, Sherlock leaps out of the stand, and points his finger at the jazz band. "Hit it, Loves!"

With that, the jazz band starts performing. What they perform is the music to Dallas Wayne's "I'll Take the Fifth." But out of respect for copyrighted lyrics...as well as the fact that Dallas Wayne was born many decades after this opera is set, Sherlock won't be singing the same words.

Until then, Sherlock dances around the courtroom. A lot of people seem overwhelmed...especially the Judge, Watson, and Mary. As usual, Mycroft only leans back, smiles, and watches his brother, the master of overt stunts, put on a legendary performance in a British courtroom.

With my right hand on the theory of evolution, and the other in the air

Yes, your Honor, I promise to cuss and swear

You lot of corrupt shitbags are enemies of the truth

Even so, I owe you all a bunch of shit that's very aloof

O, on that night, Mycroft was with me all night long

Ever since he had to get his Koran pawned

As much as it hurts, I will NOT plead insanity!

So please, please, Judge

Don't expect that from me!

About now, Holmes starts stalking the jury from behind. Mycroft was in here the previous night...and has jerry-rigged all twelve of the jurors' seats with...special apparatuses.

One at a time, while singing the next part of the aria, Holmes deviously activates the entire back row of the jury's seats. As a result, the jurors are spontaneously spun into a position where Holmes has free access to their arses. They try to escape; they can't. When the front row realizes what's going on, some of them try to run away...only to realize that they can't get out of their chairs.

The bailiff sees this, of course. He draws his club, and tries to take Holmes down.

Mycroft only smiles, takes a blowgun, and blows a projectile across the courtroom. It electrically stuns the bailiff, and knocks him out. He lies lifelessly on the floor, while Holmes performs the rest of the aria, against what most of the courtroom would now prefer.

You see, I tried to build a teleportation chamber

Because I'm sick and tired of the coach

Humanity is capable of a billion times more evolution

Hence, we shouldn't still be at the same level as the roach

I can't admit to everything that happened

You're probably going to book me anyway

If you're asking me to conform to a monotonous reactionary

Pardon me, if I say NO FUCKING WAY!

And now, for the song's first chorus, Holmes starts pounding the six upturned jurors' asses, as if they were drums. Or rather, they're more like a marimba; as women, they all scream each time Holmes slaps their asses. One thing's for certain, though; Holmes has got rhythm. He spends the entire first chorus proving it...and encouraging revolted reactions from the Judge, Mrs. Hudson, and Mary in the process...and not to mention the trapped front row of jurors. Naturally, Holmes has something similar planned for them, in the longer-term.

I Won't Confess

I'll only make things worse

I refuse to elaborate

On the turf

That everything I say

Will deteriorate

So let these ovulating jurors

Decide my fate!

Because the only thing I'm guilty of

Is being my evolutionary self

So I Won't Confess

And you and your sister can go to hell!

The Judge reaches for her gavel...only to realize that her arm's been strapped to her chair. She's been subjugated to the same constraints as the jurors, it seems. Hence, Holmes probably has the same thing in store for her that he does for the jurors...

From the verdict room, the Chorus makes their entrance. The jazz band plays softer, as they add to the accompaniment with their majestic four-part TTBB chanting. While dancing, they wander up to the jury, and surround them. They activate the jerry-rigging in the front row's seats.

Now, every juror's chair has been tipped. Their arses are exposed, and facing the jury bench railing. Each member of the chorus claims three of the juorors' arses, and starts doing what Holmes was doing until moments ago; they beat their arses like drums/marimbas. It seems they've all got great rhythm. Too bad the jurors can't possibly be expected to stand for it.

But then, of course, they're NOT standing; they're hanging upside down!

In a phone booth in the corner, Watson rings up Inspector Lestrade, and summons him. He tells Lestrade to bring help; Holmes is on a roll, and might require more than one baton to take down. But then, Mrs. Hudson, at least, already knows this...

At this point in the aria, Holmes starts skulking around the Judge's bench. The Judge thrashes, screams, swears, and demands to be released. She threatens Holmes more than several times. Alas, what can she do but sit like a tied sow, and await her much-begged-for fate?

As for your cause, your Honor, to abhor me

You and your sister could invest in a rivalry

Take a moment, and decide which of you hates me more

But your sister has to live with me, so I'm for her!

Now, Holmes activates some jerry-rigging in the Judge's chair. Sure enough, her chair flips over, and turns around, to where Holmes has a clear shot at her arse...as the Chorus now has at all twelve jurors' arses...and are making VERY talented use of them, as any courtroom-frequenting fool can see.

Holmes activates more jerry-rigging in the Judge's bench, and levitates the Judge, to where he can at least look her in the face, while singing this next part of the aria:

But a man should be judged by the company he keeps

And as much havoc as I know my inventions have wreaked

SOME of them have been patented!

So consider THAT!

Now, he lowers the Judge back. And now, he goes berserk, while hammering away at her arse, as if it was a big bass drum. Shite; if Sherlock wasn't on trial before, he likely soon will be...for assaulting a judge.

Here, though, the jazz band lets loose, and has an instrumental break. All around the jury, the Chorus keeps hammering away at their arses, singing TTBB accompaniment, and having the same ball that Sherlock is. Meanwhile, the courtroom panics all around them. They can't get out; all exits have been barricaded by some of Sherlock's paid sidekicks.

At this moment in the aria, Exhibit A wakes from his Holmes-induced coma. He leaps up onto his front paws, keeps his rear seated, and bays, adding to the jazz instrumental.

Outside the barricaded front door of the courtroom, Insp. Lestrade has arrived. He's brought a battering ram. With a crew of coppers to man it, the crew takes turns backing up, and charging the front doors. The front doors give, just a little more, each time. Soon, Holmes will just have to surrender. But that's no big deal; Holmes is almost finished with the aria.

Up front, Holmes still has a ball with the Judge's ass. She madder than a hornet. But of course, Holmes would have to be more cokey than he is to cut her any slack at all.

Mrs. Hudson tries to defend her sister, by daring attack her tenant from behind, with one of her shoes. Alas, Irene Adler hides in the vaults. She grins, blows another blowgun, and knocks Mrs. Hudson out with a similar electricity-stunning projectile that Mycroft used on the still-unconscious bailiff.

At last, it's time for the instrumental break to end. So, Holmes takes it home, with the aria.

This will be my final plea

Before you throw the book at me...

I WON'T CONFESS!

You'll never hear it from me

I might be eccentric

But NEVER crazy!

I know how you British politicians are

Blackwood would've been one

And need I not remind you, that if not for me, he'd be fucking PM right now?!

So, the only thing I'll ever confess to

Is being my mystery-solving, coca leaf-sipping, bulldog-drugging, chess man-controlling, eccentric, bloody self!

But I Won't Confess

The same, or not to you!

O, I Won't Confess!

So go bury yourself in a gavel truck!

With the lyrics of the aria sung, the jazz band, the Chorus, the Accompanist, and Shirley finish it, and "take it home." By now, a lot of courtroom attendants have fainted, because they can't get out...and because they've witnessed more atrocity than they'd take from their own children in five minutes.

Outside, the Inspector's team has just about overridden the doors' barricade. All they've gotta do is swing the ram one more time...

They all shout, and charge in unison. On the upside, the doors give. On the downside, the floor just inside the front door has been jerry-rigged, too...with a low-friction substance. Hence, the ram crew slips...and the ram goes flying.

At the same time, Holmes levitates the Judge's mount up, to where he can see her face again. She's just in time to see the flying battering ram, from across the courtroom, get bigger and bigger...

And then, of course, it hits her...in the nose, as she's screaming.

At the same time, the jazz band plays the final note, finishing the aria. As a result, there's average applause...but only half of it is whole-hearted.

The whole time, Mycroft has leaned back in his chair, and smiled, marveling at his brother's performance. He's the only member of the applause who rises, before delivering it.

The Inspector's men only wait a moment, for the courtroom to evacuate. But then they all come in with clubs and chains. They hold Holmes, and set the jurors free. They summon a medic to attend to the Judge; she got hit pretty well, by the flying ram. They also summon medics to attend to the bailiff, Mrs. Hudson, and the coppers who slipped on the floor after breaching the doors.

Again, an entire squad surrounds Holmes, clubs drawn. Holmes grins, and keeps his hands up. As much as he doesn't respect Lestrade, Holmes has never underestimated a copper's ability to leave more than a dent in human flesh. But then, Holmes would know all about this; more than once, he's helped Lestrade's men corner one of their most mysterious enemies.

Mary rejoices, when she sees that Gladstone is still alive. She speaks baby talk, while scratching him behind the ears.

With Holmes surrounded, Lestrade confronts him. This is nothing new. Even so, the Inspector wishes it was.

You can be a naughty man, Holmes

When you don't have to be

It's a shame that British citizens pay taxes

Just to keep you subdued...

Your landlady's been harmed

The press won't believe that's not your fault

Or the barricaded doors

Or the unconscious bailiff...

Or the Judge's broken nose

And not to mention the backbones of my battering ram squad

As much as we've got on you now

It's a crying shame that if you go to jail, you won't be there long enough

At this, many of Lestrade's men smile and nod. Holmes only scoffs at this, and continues Lestrade's aria...while opposing his verses in it, at the same time.

What can I say?

I'm a man of many words

The court wouldn't have listened

If I didn't make it easy for them...

Women hate me

And their husbands can't stand for me in their wives' presence

I couldn't fight for my home

So I chose not to...

Or rather, I did it in my own special way

You should be less surprised that it wasn't received with understanding hearts

Even so, if I'm jailbait, just go ahead and do it

Just make sure that the judge at my trial isn't my landlady's sister

At this, Lestrade scoffs. And, he continues the aria.

This is your lucky day, Holmes

As much as I'd love to, I can't

It seems you've high-profile friends in Schleswig-Holstein

Who are in demand of your legendary services

They've hired you before, if I'm not mistaken

Bless their hearts, for taking you on again

Regardless of what anyone says about you, though

I will always know the truth:

That you would've made a fantastic criminal in another life

At this, Holmes smiles. "And you," he adds, "a better policeman."

Lestrade sighs. "Get him out of here," he orders his men, "before someone charges him with trespassing."

As they drag Holmes away, he scoffs. "This is a courtroom! It's public property, isn't it?"

In Holmes's absence, Lestrade stands, shakes his head, and surveys the damage. In his mind, the human race will become SO much stronger, on the day Holmes finally bites the dust...