Page 165 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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At 221B, John is sitting at the table in the kitchen while Sherlock hurls clothes around his
bedroom. With the door open, the noise is distracting and finally John looks up from what he’s
reading.
JOHN: What are you doing?
SHERLOCK: Going into battle, John. I need the right armour.
(He walks into view, wearing a large yellow hi-vis jacket.)
SHERLOCK: No.
(He rips it off again.)

At her house, Irene is looking at herself in a full-length mirror, turning side-on to look at the
glittery dark purple cocktail dress she’s wearing.
IRENE: Nah.
KATE (leaning against the door jamb): Works for me.
IRENE: Everything works on you.

TAXI. Sherlock and John are on the move. Sherlock is wearing his usual coat and scarf.
JOHN: So, what’s the plan?
SHERLOCK: We know her address.
JOHN: What, just ring her doorbell?
SHERLOCK: Exactly.
(He calls out to the cab driver.)
SHERLOCK: Just here, please.
JOHN: You didn’t even change your clothes.
SHERLOCK: Then it’s time to add a splash of colour.

At her house, Irene is doing the same thing as Kate carefully applies make-up to her eyes.

Nearby, the boys have got out of the taxi and Sherlock leads John down a narrow street, pulling
his scarf off as he goes. Eventually he stops and turns around to face John.
JOHN: Are we here?
SHERLOCK: Two streets away, but this’ll do.
JOHN: For what?
SHERLOCK (gesturing to his own left cheek): Punch me in the face.

Kate runs her thumb over Irene’s mouth, wondering what colour lipstick to apply.
KATE: Shade?
(Irene smiles.)
IRENE: Blood.

JOHN: Punch you?
SHERLOCK: Yes. Punch me, in the face. (He gestures to his left cheek again.) Didn’t you hear
me?
JOHN: I always hear ‘punch me in the face’ when you’re speaking, but it’s usually sub-text.
SHERLOCK (exasperated): Oh, for God’s sakes.
(He punches John in the face. As John grunts in pain and reels from the blow, Sherlock shakes
out his hand and then blows out a breath, bracing himself. John straightens up and immediately
punches Sherlock. However, despite his anger – and his left-handedness – he does so right-
handed and therefore strikes him on the left cheek just as Sherlock had indicated.)
JOHN: Ow!
(Turning away as Sherlock picks himself up, he flexes his hand painfully and examines his
knuckles. Sherlock finally straightens up, holding his fingers to the cut on his cheek.)
SHERLOCK: Thank you. That was – that was ...
(Still fighting right-handed, John punches him in the stomach, sending him crashing to the
ground.)

Slowly Kate paints blood-red lipstick onto Irene’s mouth.

In the street, Sherlock is doubled over with John on his back half–strangling him. John’s face is
contorted with pent-up anger and frustration, and Sherlock is struggling to pull his hands off
him.
SHERLOCK (half-choking): Okay! I think we’re done now, John.

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)