Sherlock Holmes is contemplating shooting another hole in the wall when he hears a sudden groaning from outside the apartment. It sounds like gears grinding. He walks to the window instead and pulls aside the curtain.
A blue police box sits smack in the middle of Baker Street. Holmes, who has yet to see the invention of a telephone, is immediately puzzled. He scratches his head. A tall man with a flop of brown hair pops out of the telephone box and gazes up and down the street then runs towards Holmes' apartment, his strides comically large. He climbs the steps two at a time. He hesitates for a moment, casting his eyes about for Holmes doesn't know what on the door with his pointer finger extended, and then decides to pound on the door instead.
"Oh dear. Another mad one, I should think," says Mrs. Hudson.
"Lead him up. I like mad."
Mrs. Hudson goes down the stairs and leads the phone booth man up to 221B. He enters the apartment, rubbing his hands together, his grey-green eyes twinkling.
"Oooh, you're Mr. Holmes. I've always wanted to meet you. Look at you, a real detective."
"And your name?"
"I'm no one. Actually, you know, it's a long story. Let's just settle for I'm a mad man with a blue box."
To be continued in part 2...Reviews are cool.