Page 23 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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(Bending down, he grabs Sherlock around the waist and hauls him to his feet before dragging
him a few paces across the room and dumping him onto a nearby wooden chair. The chair is in
front of a small square wooden table which has another chair on the other side of it. Sherlock
slumps forward onto the table but then he manages to sit up and turns and reaches vaguely
towards the door behind him. The cabbie walks around the table towards the other chair.)
CABBIE: The whole ’ouse is empty. Even your landlady’s away, so there’s no point in raising
your voice. We’re all locked in, nice and snug.
(Sherlock, slumped over the back of the chair, turns his head weakly towards the other man.)
SHERLOCK: Still, bit of a risk, isn’t it? Here?
CABBIE: You call that a risk?
(He reaches into both of his trouser pockets and takes out a small brown bottle from each of
them.)
CABBIE: This is a risk.
(Sherlock looks at him blankly. The cabbie puts the identical bottles onto the table in front of
him, then unscrews the lid of the right-hand one and tips out one of several small capsules from
inside it. Putting it onto the table in front of the bottle, he then picks up the left-hand bottle and
takes out another identical capsule and puts it in front of that bottle.)
CABBIE: You wanted to know ’ow I made ’em take the poison.
(He looks down at the capsules and chuckles before looking across to Sherlock.)
CABBIE: You’re gonna love this!
SHERLOCK: How?
CABBIE: Take a moment.
(Still slumped in his chair, Sherlock sighs tiredly.)
CABBIE: Get yourself together. I want your best game.
(Screwing his eyes up in concentration, Sherlock tries to straighten up.)
SHERLOCK: My ... my best what?
(He leans forward and lays his head down on one hand on the table. The cabbie points at him
even though he can’t see.)
CABBIE: I know who you are, Mr ’olmes.
(He starts to wander around the living room.)
CABBIE: The moment you said your name, I knew. Sherlock ’olmes.
(He picks up a magnifying glass from the bureau and lifts it to look through it at Sherlock before
continuing around the room looking at various things.)
CABBIE: I’ve been on your website loads of times. You are brilliant.
(Tiredly, Sherlock lifts his head to look at him.)
CABBIE: You are. Proper genius.
(Sherlock’s head slumps down onto his hand again. The cabbie turns and walks back to the
table.)
CABBIE: “The Science of Deduction.” Now that is proper thinking. Between you and me, why
can’t people think?
(He looks down angrily.)
CABBIE: Don’t it drive you mad? Why can’t people just think?
SHERLOCK (slurred, not lifting his head): Oh, I see. (He points a finger towards the cabbie.) So
you’re a proper genius too.
CABBIE (smiling smugly): Don’t look it, do I? Funny little man, drives a cab. But you’ll know
better in a minute. Chances are it’ll be the last thing you ever know.
(Sherlock finally gets his head up and glares up at the man.)
SHERLOCK: Who are you?
CABBIE: Nobody. (He looks down at Sherlock.) For now.
(He pulls out the chair and sits down.)
CABBIE: But I won’t die a nobody, now will I?
(Sherlock tiredly leans back in his seat and blows out a long breath through his nose, trying to
concentrate. He points to the capsules on the table.)
SHERLOCK: Two pills.
CABBIE: There’s a good pill and a bad pill. You take the good pill, you live; take the bad pill,
you die.
SHERLOCK: And you know which is which.
CABBIE: Course I know.
SHERLOCK: But I don’t.
CABBIE: Wouldn’t be a game if you knew. You’re the one who chooses.
SHERLOCK: It’s not a game. It’s chance.

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)