Now, when you do this without getting punched in the chest, you’ll have more fun. As you may or may not know, Lindsay and I have hit a bit of a rough patch. Oh, you’re gonna be in a coma, all right. Did you enjoy your meal, Mom? You drank it fast enough. There’s only one man I’ve ever called a coward, and that’s Brian Doyle Murray. No, what I’m calling you is a television actor. No! I was ashamed to be SEEN with you. I like being with you. He’ll want to use your yacht, and I don’t want this thing smelling like fish. Steve Holt! I’m afraid I just blue myself. Guy’s a pro.
Holmes and Watson are on a camping trip. In the middle of the night Holmes wakes up and gives Dr. Watson a nudge. ‘Watson’ he says, ‘look up in the sky and tell me what you see.’ ‘I see millions of stars, Holmes,’ says Watson. ‘And what do you conclude from that, Watson?’ Watson thinks for a moment. ‘Well,’ he says, ‘astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo. Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three. Meterologically, I suspect that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. Theologically, I see that God is all-powerful, and we are small and insignificant. Uh, what does it tell you, Holmes?’ ‘Watson, you idiot! Someone has stolen our tent!’ Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself; but talent instantly recognizes genius. Is there any point to which you would wish to draw my attention? To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time. The dog did nothing in the night-time. That was the curious incident Elementary, my dear Watson. Man, or at least criminal man, has lost all enterprise and originality. As to my own little practice, it seems to be degenerating into an agency for recovering lost lead pencils and giving advice to young ladies from boarding-schools. I have always held, too, that pistol practice should be distinctly an open-air pastime; and when Holmes, in one of his queer humours, would sit in an armchair with his hair-trigger and a hundred Boxer cartridges and proceed to adorn the opposite wall with a patriotic V.R. done in bullet pocks, I felt strongly that neither the atmosphere nor the appearance of our room was improved by it. You see, but you do not observe. The distinction is clear.

I must apologize for calling so late, and I must further beg you to be so unconventional as to allow me to leave your house presently by scrambling over your back garden wall. Is there any point to which you would wish to draw my attention? To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time. The dog did nothing in the night-time. That was the curious incident Holmes and Watson are on a camping trip. In the middle of the night Holmes wakes up and gives Dr. Watson a nudge. ‘Watson’ he says, ‘look up in the sky and tell me what you see.’ ‘I see millions of stars, Holmes,’ says Watson. ‘And what do you conclude from that, Watson?’ Watson thinks for a moment. ‘Well,’ he says, ‘astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo. Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three. Meterologically, I suspect that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. Theologically, I see that God is all-powerful, and we are small and insignificant. Uh, what does it tell you, Holmes?’ ‘Watson, you idiot! Someone has stolen our tent!’ The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes. You know my method. It is founded upon the observation of trifles. Show Holmes a drop of water and he would deduce the existence of the Atlantic. Show it to me and I would look for a tap. That was the difference between us. I have always held, too, that pistol practice should be distinctly an open-air pastime; and when Holmes, in one of his queer humours, would sit in an armchair with his hair-trigger and a hundred Boxer cartridges and proceed to adorn the opposite wall with a patriotic V.R. done in bullet pocks, I felt strongly that neither the atmosphere nor the appearance of our room was improved by it. You will not apply my precept. How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth? We know that he did not come through the door, the window, or the chimney. We also know that he could not have been concealed in the room, as there is no concealment possible. When, then, did he come? Elementary, my dear Watson. Come, Watson, come! The game is afoot. Not a word! Into your clothes and come!