Showing posts tagged lestrade
Sherlock Holmes: Consulting Food Critic
John had grown accustomed to Sherlock starving himself on a case. When asked about it, his lips would quirk into an indulgent half-smile and he’d say, with a one-shouldered shrug and a blasé flick of his hand, “Yeah, he does that.” And it would be dismissed as one of the detective’s many unusual quirks.
In actuality, Sherlock just didn’t like the food.
And therein lay the reason why such a level of animosity existed between the two Holmes brothers; Mycroft would literally eat anything. Sherlock abhorred the elder Holmes’ unrefined palate, and Mycroft found his brother’s fussy eating intolerable. You can imagine the Christmas dinners.
It wasn’t long before Lestrade learned the truth. He never confessed his knowledge in words, as such, but the officers at Scotland Yard noticed that the detective inspector liked to gorge himself on shop-bought muffins whenever Sherlock stopped by at the office demanding case files.
And Anderson? The forensics specialist had made the unfortunate mistake of offering Sherlock a Tesco Value chocolate biscuit when they were first acquainted. A food crime that, in the detective’s eyes, was wholly unforgivable. They have been enemies ever since.
And while Jim Moriarty was a mass-murdering psychopath, Sherlock mused as he stood on the roof of St. Bart’s hospital, at least the man chewed a respectable brand of gum.
This day can also be referred to as the following:
1) The day John made a mental note to hide all the bedsheets.
2) The day Lestrade swore that if he ever set foot in that bloody flat again, it would be ten years too soon.
3) The day Mycroft ordered that the surveillance camera be promptly removed from his brother’s mantelpiece, before downing a double scotch with the speed of your average unemployed drunkard and attempting to reply to Greg’s irate texts.
…
Because Sherlock’s never wearing any pants.
Lestrade is like the stern dad who’s yelling at his 17 year old son who snuck out of the house and is trying to deny it.
He’s dealing with a child.
Anderson likes to show the ladies his dinosaur.
Rawr.
Greg Lestrade’s lifelong mantra.
Also known as:
Why everyone should have a mini Lestrade that they can keep in their pocket for those rainy (Reichenbach) days.
Poor old Mycroft.
