Page 383 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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SHERLOCK: I have to filter out a lot of witless babble. I’ve got Mrs Hudson on semi-permanent
mute.
(The journey continues and the taxi eventually pulls up outside 221B Baker Street. As soon as
he sees the closed front door, Sherlock lets out an exasperated sigh.)
SHERLOCK: What is my brother doing here?
(He gets out and heads for the front door. John calls after him.)
JOHN (tetchily): So I’ll just pay, then, shall I?
(Sherlock goes up onto the doorstep and glares at the door knocker.)
SHERLOCK: He’s straightened the knocker.
(He turns to John as he gets out of the cab.)
SHERLOCK: He always corrects it. He’s OCD. Doesn’t even know he’s doing it.
(He deliberately pushes the door knocker to one side, then lets himself in.)
JOHN: Why’d you do that?
SHERLOCK: Do what?
JOHN: Nothing.
(They go inside, John shutting the door behind him, and Sherlock opens and goes through the
inner door, then stops and rolls his eyes at the sight of Mycroft sitting on the stairs.)
MYCROFT: Well, then, Sherlock. Back on the sauce?
SHERLOCK: What are you doing here?
JOHN: I phoned him.
MYCROFT: The siren call of old habits. How very like Uncle Rudy – though, in many ways, cross-
dressing would have been a wiser path for you.
SHERLOCK (folding his arms and directing his comment to John without looking at him): You
phoned him.
JOHN: ’Course I bloody phoned him.
MYCROFT: ’Course he bloody did. Now, save me a little time. Where should we be looking?
SHERLOCK: “We”?
ANDERSON’s VOICE (from upstairs): Mr Holmes?
(In the kitchen, Anderson closes the door to one of the cupboards in the kitchen.)
SHERLOCK (furiously): For God’s sake!
(He storms up the stairs, Mycroft sliding sideways on his step to get out of his way. Mycroft and
John exchange a look and John blows out a breath as Mycroft leans on his umbrella to push
himself to his feet.
Sherlock goes into the kitchen and glares at Anderson who is with a female colleague called
Benji. [Don’t ask why she has such an odd name but that’s how she’s named in the end credits
– I can only assume it’s some kind of in-joke or shout-out to a personal friend, or family pet, of
the writer.])
SHERLOCK (angrily): Anderson.
ANDERSON (raising his gloved hands apologetically): I’m sorry, Sherlock. It’s for your own
good.
(Looking annoyed, Sherlock drops his keys onto the kitchen table. Benji stares at him.)
BENJI: Oh, that’s him, isn’t it?
(Sherlock turns and storms towards his armchair, where another member of the ‘search team’
is sitting and reading a book. The man scrambles out of the chair, putting the book onto the
table beside it, and hurries away. Sherlock flips up his hood and climbs into the chair.)
BENJI: You said he’d be taller.
MYCROFT (coming into the kitchen and looking towards Sherlock): Some members of your little
fan-club. Do be polite. They’re entirely trustworthy, and even willing to search through the toxic
waste dump that you are pleased to call a flat.
(Sherlock has curled up sideways in his chair and now lays his head on one of the arms, closing
his eyes.)
MYCROFT: You’re a celebrity these days, Sherlock. You can’t afford a drug habit.
SHERLOCK (opening his eyes and looking at him irritatedly): I do not have a drug habit.
(John’s attention is focussed on a large space between Sherlock’s chair and the kitchen. He
points.)
JOHN: Hey, what happened to my chair?
SHERLOCK: It was blocking my view to the kitchen.
JOHN (turning to Mycroft): Well, it’s good to be missed(!)
SHERLOCK: Well, you were gone. I saw an opportunity.
JOHN: No, you saw the kitchen.
(Mycroft turns to Anderson.)

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)