"Holmes," Watson correctly observed,
"The people begin to think we're Gay."
"Well, I am a wizard," he drily replied.
"And an Ace detective to boot! What business
of theirs is all this to bring
to one such as I? Not much
of a case." He mused. "I must have clay
to make bricks to lay! Data! Watson. To theorize
without it is criminal! Why, I would catch myself
in an instant red-handed, laying about in a funk
on a stack of unmade bricks erecting such
unsupported structures as these. Such buildings
should be condemned!"
"And you are," John soothed, seeing his master's
unvoiced guess. "No one begins to find fault
with your elaborate stretch of conscientiousness,
but," he hesitated savoring a bit lip, "is this
your answer?"
"YES!" the detective roared. And Watson subsided,
reflecting mysterious ways
We all are blessed.
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