Page 339 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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FLASHBACK. In 221B John sits down at the dining table with a mug of tea. He looks across to
Sherlock sitting in his chair, who is running his finger across his top lip and frowning down
thoughtfully at a matchbox held in his other hand.
JOHN: What is that?
(Sherlock looks at him.)
SHERLOCK: A French decathlete found completely out of his mind, surrounded by one
thousand, eight hundred and twelve matchboxes – all empty except this one.
JOHN: And what’s in that one?
SHERLOCK (looking at the matchbox): The inexplicable.
(He slowly pushes open the matchbox. Whatever is inside glows brightly, illuminating Sherlock’s
face. He grins with delight.)

SHERLOCK (rolling his eyes): ... ‘touching’ cases ...

FLASHBACK. John is standing at the window of 221B looking down into the street.
JOHN: She’s going to ring the doorbell.
(He’s looking at a young woman who is hovering outside Speedy’s and looking towards 221’s
front door. She stops and then turns around.)
JOHN: Oh, no. She’s changed her mind.
(The woman walks away a few paces, then stops and turns around again.)
JOHN: No, she’s gonna do it ... No, she’s leaving. She’s leaving. ... Oh, she’s coming back.
(Sherlock is sprawled in his chair with his head raised towards the ceiling. His eyes are closed.)
SHERLOCK: She’s a client. She’s boring. I’ve seen those symptoms before.
JOHN: Hmm?
SHERLOCK: Oscillation on the pavement always means there’s a love affair.

SHERLOCK: ... and of course I have to mention the elephant in the room.

FLASHBACK. The boys stand in the doorway of what looks like a fairly ordinary room
somewhere. They stare up wide-eyed at what they can see inside. Sherlock opens his mouth.
Offscreen, an elephant trumpets loudly. Sherlock closes his mouth again.

SHERLOCK: But we want something ... very particular for this special day, don’t we?
(He looks down at his phone, then raises his eyes again.)
SHERLOCK: The Bloody Guardsman.

FLASHBACK. John’s blog entry entitled “The Bloody Guardsman” drifts across the screen for a
moment, then fades to a view of Sherlock standing in the living room of 221B looking at his
information wall behind the sofa. He turns to where Mary is sitting at the dining table and John
is sitting in his armchair and looking at his phone.
SHERLOCK: Need to work on your half of the church, Mary. Looking a bit thin.
MARY (smiling): Ah, orphan’s lot. Friends – that’s all I have. Lots of friends.
(We get a glimpse of the paperwork on the wall and realise that Sherlock is organising the hell
out of the wedding. There is a list of things which need to be done, all of them ticked off, and
the wall is divided into areas which are headed, “Transport,” “Catering,” “Rehearsal,” “Wine,”
and probably other items too. On the table beside Mary is a cardboard 3D model of the
reception venue.)
SHERLOCK: Schedule the organ music to begin at precisely 11.48.
MARY: But the rehearsal’s not for another two weeks. Just calm down.
SHERLOCK: Calm? I am calm. I’m extremely calm.
MARY: Let’s get back to the reception, come on.
(He walks over to the table.)
MARY (handing him an RSVP card): John’s cousin. Top table?
SHERLOCK (looking at the card): Hmm. Hates you. Can’t even bear to think about you.
MARY (looking up at him): Seriously?
SHERLOCK: Second class post, cheap card ... (he sniffs it and grimaces) ... bought at a petrol
station. Look at the stamp: three attempts at licking. She’s obviously unconsciously retaining
saliva.
MARY: Ah. (Over her shoulder to John) Let’s stick her by the bogs.
[Transcriber’s note: ‘bogs’ is a slang word for ‘toilets.’]

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)