Page 364 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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SHERLOCK: Sorry. Too many jokes about John! Now, er ...
(Inside his head he slowly walks across the Council Chamber again towards Mycroft, staring up
at him.)
MYCROFT: Criminal intent.
SHERLOCK (at the reception): Where was I? Ah, yes ...
MYCROFT (in the Council Chamber): Extraordinary lengths.
SHERLOCK (at the reception): Speech! (He points towards the top table, grinning round at the
guests.) Speech. (He claps his hands together again.) Let’s talk about ...
MYCROFT (in the Council Chamber): All of which is suggestive of ...?
(In the Chamber, Sherlock’s eyes widen and he presses his lips together to begin forming the
word.)
SHERLOCK (at the reception): ... murder.
(John sighs and lowers his head, while Mary frowns.)
SHERLOCK: Sorry, did I say ‘murder’? I meant to say ‘marriage’ – but, you know, they’re quite
similar procedures when you think about it. The participants tend to know each other, and it’s
over when one of them’s dead.
(He emphatically sounds the ‘d’ at the end of the word. Again John sighs and lowers his head.)
SHERLOCK: In fairness, murder is a lot quicker, though. Janine!
(She looks up a little wide-eyed.)
SHERLOCK (walking over to stand behind one of the male guests): What about this one?
Acceptably hot? (He grins at Janine, then looks at the woman sitting beside the man.) More
importantly, his girlfriend’s wearing brand-new uncomfortable underwear ... (he zooms in on
the top part of the woman’s dress, where the seam of her ill-fitting bra – or whatever she’s
wearing underneath – is visible through the material; then he zooms across to a thread of
cotton on the man’s jacket) ... and hasn’t bothered to pick this thread off the top of his jacket
... (he zooms to a smudge on the man’s neck) ... or point out the grease smudge on the back of
his neck. Currently, he’s going home alone.
(Sherlock now has his phone behind his own back and is rapidly typing onto it with his thumb.)
SHERLOCK: Also, he’s a comics and sci-fi geek. They’re always tremendously grateful – really
put the hours in.
(He chuckles.)
SHERLOCK: Geoff, the gents.
(He looks across to Greg and jerks his head towards the door.)
SHERLOCK: The loos, now, please.
LESTRADE: It’s Greg.
SHERLOCK: The loos, please.
(Greg’s phone beeps a text alert.)
LESTRADE (reaching into his pocket): Why?
SHERLOCK: Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s your turn.
(He jerks his head towards the door again, grimacing. Greg looks at his phone and the new text
message which reads:

Lock this place down.

LESTRADE: Yeah, actually, now you mention it ...
(He stands up. Sherlock pockets his own phone.)
JOHN: Sherlock, any chance of a – an end date for this speech? Gotta cut the cake.
(While Greg heads out of the door, Sherlock smiles widely and dances down the aisle, gesturing
dramatically.)
SHERLOCK: Oh! Ladies and gentlemen, can’t stand it when I finally get the chance to speak for
once, Vatican Cameos.
(He directs the last two words directly to John in a conversational way as if they’re a natural
part of the sentence. John straightens up in his chair.)
MARY: What did he say? What’s that mean?
JOHN (quietly, tugging the bottom of his waistcoat down): Battle stations. Someone’s gonna
die.
MARY: What?!
(He puts his hand over hers, silently shushing her. Sherlock turns to look at the guests, where
all the men are tagged with the ”MAYFLY MAN?” question again.)
MYCROFT (in the Council Chamber): Narrow it down.
(At the reception, Sherlock grimaces, his eyes screwed tightly shut.)

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)