Page 22 - SHERLOCK transcripts

21

(Sherlock frowns in confusion.)
CABBIE: Most people would have passed out by now.
(Sherlock blinks, looks down, then reels away from the cab when he sees a hypodermic needle
hanging from the underside of his left upper arm. He cries out, flailing as he tries to reach
towards it to take it out. In the restaurant John looks with alarm when he sees Sherlock waving
his arms around.)
ANGELO: It’s okay. All part of the plan.
(Sherlock falls against the side of the cab as the drug begins to take effect. The cabbie gets out
and reassures nearby passers-by who have stopped to watch what’s going on.)
CABBIE: It’s okay. He’s just had a few.
(He grabs Sherlock, who groans incoherently and tries to wave his arm towards the restaurant.)
CABBIE: Look at the state of ’im!
SHERLOCK (slurring): John!
(In the restaurant, John watches with concern, unable to hear that Sherlock is continuing to call
his name while the cabbie opens the back door and starts shoving him inside. Sherlock falls to
the floor of the cab. The cabbie looks down at him.)
CABBIE: Trouble is, your friends all think you’re acting.
(Groaning, Sherlock tries to sit up.)
CABBIE: That’s the thing about people.
(He slams the door and walks to the front of the cab, chuckling.)
CABBIE: They’re all stupid.
(Sherlock groans as he makes another attempt to sit up but then slumps back onto the floor
unconscious. In the restaurant, John shakes his head.)
JOHN: Something’s gone wrong.
ANGELO: No, no, no. All part of the plan.
(The cab starts to drive away down the street.)
ANGELO: Sherlock always has a plan.
JOHN: Yes, and it’s gone wrong.
(Jumping to his feet, he races out of the restaurant, hurries across the road and then runs down
the street after the cab. Angelo shakes his head, obviously thinking that John is over-reacting,
then picks up John’s plate and walks away. On the back of John’s chair, his walking cane hangs
forgotten.)

Sherlock begins to regain consciousness some time later. He opens his eyes but his vision won’t
come into focus at first and he can see nothing more than fuzzy shapes in front of him. He is
indoors and slumped in a chair. He blinks, still trying to focus and eventually can just about
make out a skull on a mantelpiece and a fire burning in the grate underneath. As he tries to
move, the cabbie’s voice comes from nearby.
CABBIE: I ’ope you don’t mind. Well, you gave me your address.
(Sherlock rolls his head and sees the man standing a few feet away.)
CABBIE: You’ve only been out for about ten minutes.
(Sherlock struggles to his feet but can’t keep his balance. He falls forward, grabbing hold of the
mantelpiece in the living room of 221B and grunting as he tries to pull himself upright.)
CABBIE: You’re strong. I’m impressed.
(Hauling himself up so that his legs are almost straight, Sherlock rests his head on his hands as
he looks blearily at the skull beside him.)
CABBIE: That’s right – you warm yourself up. I made everything nice and cosy for you.
SHERLOCK (weakly): This is my flat.
CABBIE: Course it is, yeah. (He takes a set of keys from his trouser pocket and holds them up.)
Found your keys in your jacket. I thought, well, why not? People like to die at ’ome.
(Sherlock turns and tries to stand up straight but immediately loses his balance and crashes to
the floor face down.)
CABBIE: Now, now. The drug’s still in your system. (He walks closer and looks down at
Sherlock.) You’ll be weak as a kitten for at least an hour.
(He smiles down at him.)
CABBIE: I could do anything I wanted to you right now, Mr ’olmes.
(Groaning, Sherlock continues to struggle to stand.)
CABBIE: Anything at all.
(Whimpering, Sherlock manages to get up onto his knees and elbows.)
CABBIE: But don’t worry. I’m only gonna kill yer.

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)