Page 205 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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(Gary turns to a man who is clearly the inn’s cook who has just arrived behind the bar.
Meanwhile Sherlock turns and follows Fletcher as he walks away from the doorway.)
GARY: I’m just saying we’ve been rushed off our feet, Billy.
BILLY: Yeah. Lots of monster-hunters. Doesn’t take much these days. One mention on Twitter
and oomph.
(He looks at Gary.)
BILLY: We’re out of WKD.
[Transcriber’s note: WKD is a brand of alcopop aimed at the trendy young – and mostly male –
drinkers’ market.]
GARY: All right.
(He walks behind the bar again. Billy turns to John.)
BILLY: What with the monster and that ruddy prison, I don’t know how we sleep nights. Do you,
Gary?
(Gary stops and puts a hand on his shoulder and looks at him affectionately.)
GARY: Like a baby.
BILLY: That’s not true. (He looks at John.) He’s a snorer.
GARY (embarrassed, trying to shut him up): Hey, wheesht!
BILLY (to John): Is yours a snorer?
JOHN: ... Got any crisps?

Outside, Sherlock swipes a half-drunk pint of beer from a nearby empty table and walks over
towards Fletcher, noticing as he does so that he has a copy of the Racing Post in his trouser
pocket. Fletcher has gone over to another of the tables and is just finishing his phone call.
FLETCHER: Yeah ... No. All right? Right. Take care. ’Bye.
SHERLOCK: Mind if I join you?
(Fletcher shrugs and gestures to the table. Sherlock puts his pint down and sits on the bench on
the other side of the table.)
SHERLOCK: It’s not true, is it? You haven’t actually seen this ... hound thing. (He grins in a
friendly way.)
FLETCHER (looking at him suspiciously): You from the papers?
SHERLOCK: No, nothing like that. Just curious. Have you seen it?
FLETCHER: Maybe.
SHERLOCK: Got any proof?
FLETCHER: Why would I tell you if I did? ’Scuse me.
(He stands up to leave just as John comes over with his own drink.)
JOHN: I called Henry ...
SHERLOCK (talking over him): Bet’s off, John, sorry.
JOHN (sitting down): What?
FLETCHER: Bet?
SHERLOCK (looking at his watch): My plan needs darkness. (He looks up at the sky.) Reckon
we’ve got another half an hour of light ...
FLETCHER: Wait, wait. What bet?
SHERLOCK: Oh, I bet John here fifty quid that you couldn’t prove you’d seen the hound.
JOHN (catching on immediately and looking at Fletcher): Yeah, the guys in the pub said you
could.
(Fletcher smiles and points to Sherlock.)
FLETCHER: Well, you’re gonna lose your money, mate.
SHERLOCK: Yeah?
FLETCHER: Yeah. I’ve seen it. Only about a month ago, up at the Hollow. It was foggy, mind –
couldn’t make much out.
SHERLOCK: I see. No witnesses, I suppose.
FLETCHER: No, but ...
SHERLOCK: Never are.
FLETCHER: Wait ...
(He shows Sherlock a photograph on his smart phone.)
FLETCHER: There.
(Sherlock looks at the photograph which shows a dark-furred four-legged something in the
distance but, with no scale amongst the surrounding vegetation, it’s impossible to tell the size –
or even the species – of the animal. He snorts.)
SHERLOCK: Is that it? It’s not exactly proof, is it?
(Fletcher shows the photo to John.)

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)