Inspired by the adorable detail of the Cluedo board in the flat in Series 2.
"This game is utterly ridiculous, John." Sherlock sneers down at the Cluedo board with distaste.
"Come on, Sherlock. Humour me."
"What are their motives? I have no evidence to examine. It's ridiculous." He sounds like a petulant child.
John rolls his eyes but smiles fondly. "You're just annoyed because I beat you last round. I'm being gracious enough to let you try again."
Sherlock turns the tiny plastic rope over and over in his fingers, staring at it as though it will somehow yield clues more appropriate to his methodology of work and thought.
"It's rubbish, John. It's inaccurate, unrealistic, and overly-simplified, and it's going to give children a terrible idea of the work actually involved in solving murders."
"Just admit you're angry that you weren't able to solve an 'inaccurate, unrealistic' child's game, and I'll leave you alone."
He's rewarded with the charming view of a pair of lush, full lips curling at him in a childish sneer. John smirks and tucks the edge of the board behind the mirror on the mantel, displaying it like some sort of temporary trophy. Quietly, he bends to collect the pieces Sherlock's tossed onto the floor in a fit of resentment.
With an emphatic grunt, the world's only consulting detective lobs a knife at the wall, effectively pinning up the offending game board.