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A/N: I dasn’t ownt any o it, nayhow. I’ve been reading and listening and searching about all things Sherlockian, and after hearing the old chestnut time and again, it finally struck me, and while puns can be the lowest form of humour, sometimes they can also elevate one to the stratosphere, so here’s what came from my twisted little mind, this time……
As usual, Holmes is in his manic mode, coat flapping in the breeze, as his arm shoots up to hail a passing taxi. Flinging the door open, he yells to his compatriot, who pulls shut the door to 221B as he slips his jacket on over his cold-stiffened shoulder.
“Hurry, Watson, the game is afoot!”
John’s eyes roll heavenwards, as he follows his friend inside the vehicle, “that hardly seems fair, we’ve got both a cab and my automatic.” He pats the weight in his right coat pocket, “with the two of us, it’s hardly sporting!”