Part 2: In which Moriarty makes a new website and serious damage is done to the wall of 221b.
John Watson awoke to the discordant sound of a laptop crashing to the floor. He mentally counted to sixty-one, realizing it was going to be one of those days. John didn't like to dwell too long on the fact he recognized the sound a computer made when it hit the floor. Nor was he looking forward to confronting his flat mate about whatever had roused his ire.
When John finally ambled downstairs, awkwardly buttoning his shirt in case Sherlock decided they had to zoom over to some crime scene, he found the detective pouting on the couch.
"John," the man said instantly. "He can't do this."
"What is it now, Sherlock?"
"This!"
With an intense look, Sherlock picked up the laptop and shoved it in John's face.
John stared at the caption: Jim Smith, consulting detective will be happy to assist when the police are too busy or London's pet detective is too out of it to do more then snore! Low rates, high guarantee!
Below the words, Moriarty smiled smugly up at him.
A loud boom awoke the rest of the neighborhood as Sherlock emptied the contents of John's gun into the wall.