Don't ask where this idea came from, please...boredom during church announcements, a blank page in the bulletin, and a Granada obsession are not a good combination...
"Watson, look."
"Very nice, Holmes," I droned mechanically, not glancing up from my writing.
"You didn't even look!"
I could hear the petulant scowl in his tone, and so I looked, sighing. Ever since we had returned from Ridling Thorpe Manor, he had been doodling on our blackboard, scribbling different sequences of those confounded dancing men.
"Erm, very nice. What exactly does it say?" I asked patiently.
"Deduce, Watson."
"I am most definitely not. I am busy."
He glared at me. "It's my name, Doctor."
"Yes, yes, wonderful. Half a moment," I said, joining him at the blackboard, "there was no K in that cipher."
"I know, I had to make up another dancing man."
He looked ridiculously pleased with himself over this.
"Let me see, what would your name be…" he frowned, scribbling on the board, leaving the first letter blank.
"You'll have to make up a W," I supplied helpfully as he bit the end of the chalk.
Holmes shot me a sidelong glance, smirked, then copied the E figure and added an outrageous walrus mustache.
I glared at him, then countered by scribbling a large meerschaum (complete with smoke) onto the H in his own name.
Suddenly Mrs. Hudson's voice broke into our childish sniggering.
"Gentlemen. You've ten minutes to put away your toys and come to breakfast."