THE PRESENT. David makes a couple of anxious noises, waves briefly to Mary and goes indoors. John looks round at Sherlock with a curious expression but Sherlock raises his head and looks inscrutable. The next guest approaches. MARY: Hello! (The greetings continue. A woman in a black and white dress approaches and kisses Mary.) MARY: Pleased to see you. (The woman moves on to kiss and hug John.) WOMAN: Congratulations. JOHN: Thanks for coming, thank you. (The young pageboy is standing a few paces away. Mary smiles down at him.) MARY: Hello, Archie! (The boy’s eyes are fixed on Sherlock and the moment he has a clear route he runs straight to him and wraps his arms around him, smiling happily. Sherlock looks awkwardly down at him.) SHERLOCK: Mm, yes, um, well done in the service, Archie. (The woman in the black and white dress, obviously Archie’s mother, smiles at them.) MUM: He’s really come out of his shell. I don’t know how you did it. SHERLOCK: Um ...
FLASHBACK. 221B. Sherlock sits in his chair and looks at Archie sitting in John’s chair. They stare straight-faced at each other for a moment, then Sherlock draws in a breath. SHERLOCK: Basically it’s a cute smile to the bride’s side, cute smile to the groom’s side and then the rings. ARCHIE (instantly): No. SHERLOCK: And you have to wear the outfit. ARCHIE (instantly): No. SHERLOCK: You really do have to wear the outfit. ARCHIE (instantly): What for? SHERLOCK: Grown-ups like that sort of thing. ARCHIE (instantly): Why? (Sherlock pauses for a moment.) SHERLOCK: ... I don’t know. I’ll ask one. ARCHIE (more slowly, thoughtfully): You’re a detective. SHERLOCK: Yep. (He pops the ‘p’ loudly.) ARCHIE: Have you solved any murders? SHERLOCK: Sure. Loads. ARCHIE: Can I see? SHERLOCK (after only a momentary hesitation): Yeah, all right. (They get up and go over to the laptop on the dining table. Sherlock shows him a series of pictures – which we can’t see – and after a while Archie leans in to look more closely at an image.) ARCHIE: What’s all the stuff in his eye? SHERLOCK: Maggots. ARCHIE: Cool! SHERLOCK (looking at him for a moment): Mm!
THE PRESENT. Archie is still hugging Sherlock. MUM: He said you had some pictures for him, as a treat. SHERLOCK: Er, yes ... (he pats Archie’s head) ... if he’s good. ARCHIE (turning to look at his mum): Beheadings. SHERLOCK (quickly): Lovely little village. (He unwraps Archie from around him and gently pushes him towards the entrance.) MUM: Hmm? (She looks down at Archie as they go inside.) What did you say?
INSIDE. Molly is canoodling with Tom, repeatedly kissing his cheek. Tom indicates that the photographer is approaching them, and she turns and smiles into the camera while he takes some pictures. PHOTOGRAPHER: Nice. (He moves on to the next nearest couple, who are Mrs Hudson and what must surely be Mr Chatterjee from the sandwich shop. Apparently Mrs H has forgiven him for already having two wives – or she hasn’t yet found out about the one in Islamabad. She smiles happily for the camera; Mr Chatterjee doesn’t look quite so happy to be there. The photographer turns and snaps several pictures of Greg who is sitting at a table and drinking. Greg, looking a little glum, raises his glass to him. John and Mary are standing nearby. John indicates as a waiter approaches with a plate of canapés.) JOHN: Oh, d’you want ...? MARY (taking one from the plate): I’m starving. JOHN (declining the waiter’s offer of the plate): Thanks. MARY: Had to lose so much weight to get into this dress. (John chuckles. Sherlock and Janine are standing together a short distance away. Janine looks admiringly at the waiter as he walks past.) JANINE: He’s nice. (Sherlock sniffs deeply.) SHERLOCK: Traces of two leading brands of deodorant, both advertised for their strength, suggestive of a chronic body odour problem manifesting under stress. JANINE: Okay, done there. What about his friend? (Sherlock turns to look where she’s looking. In the nearby kitchen, another waiter is carefully pulling out the skewer from the middle of a large joint of roast beef.) SHERLOCK: Long-term relationship, compulsive cheat. JANINE: Seriously? SHERLOCK: Waterproof cover on his smartphone. (Close-up of the phone in the man’s jacket pocket.) Yet his complexion doesn’t indicate outdoor work. (Close-up of the man’s face.) Suggests he’s in the habit of taking his phone into the shower with him, which means he often receives texts and emails he’d rather went unseen. JANINE (smiling admiringly at Sherlock): Can I keep you? SHERLOCK: D’you like solving crimes? JANINE: Do you have a vacancy? (Sherlock’s eyes drift over to John, then he looks away again. Mary puts a hand on John’s shoulder.) MARY: So, Harry? JOHN: Er, no. No show. MARY: Darling, I’m so sorry. JOHN: It was a bit of a punt asking her, I suppose. Still, free bar – wouldn’t have been a good mix. (He looks down, then raises his eyes towards the entrance and looks surprised.) JOHN: Oh, God, wow! (The scarred uniformed man we saw earlier has just walked in.) MARY: Oh, G... Is that ...? JOHN: He came! (While Mary smiles with delight, John walks over to the man and they salute each other. Sherlock walks over to Mary.) SHERLOCK: So that’s him. Major Sholto. (His voice sounds disapproving.) MARY: Uh-huh. (Sherlock narrows his eyes as he looks at the two men.) SHERLOCK: If they’re such good friends, why does he barely even mention him? MARY: He mentions him all the time to me. He never shuts up about him. SHERLOCK: About him? MARY: Mm-hmm. (She takes a drink from her wine glass, then grimaces.) MARY: Urgh. I chose this wine. It’s bloody awful. SHERLOCK: Yes, but it’s definitely him that he talks about? MARY: Mm-hmm. (At the entrance) JOHN: I’m very, very glad to see you, sir. I know you don’t really do this sort of thing. SHOLTO: Well, I do for old friends, Watson ... John. It’s good to see you. JOHN: You too. (Sholto nods, then looks around the room.) SHOLTO: Civilian life suiting you, then? JOHN: Er, er, yes, well ... (he gestures towards Mary) ... I think so, sir. SHOLTO: No more need for the trick cyclist? JOHN: No, I-I go now and then. Sort of a top-up. (Sholto nods.) JOHN: Therapy can be very helpful. (Sholto awkwardly looks away.) JOHN: Where are you living these days? SHOLTO: Oh, way out in the middle of nowhere. You wouldn’t know it. (Back at Sherlock and Mary) SHERLOCK: I’ve never even heard him say his name. MARY: Well, he’s almost a recluse – you know, since ... SHERLOCK: Yes. MARY: I didn’t think he’d show up at all. John says he’s the most unsociable man he’s ever met. SHERLOCK: He is? He’s the most unsociable? MARY: Mm. SHERLOCK: Ah, that’s why he’s bouncing round him like a puppy. (Mary grins and hugs his arm.) MARY: Oh, Sherlock! Neither of us were the first, you know. (He looks round at her.) SHERLOCK: Stop smiling. MARY (indignantly): It’s my wedding day! (Rolling his eyes, Sherlock pulls free and walks away. She takes another drink from her wine glass, then pulls a disgusted face at the taste.)
Elsewhere, the camera pans across the interior of a grand building and into a room with a large old painting on the wall and a suit of armour standing nearby. A steady regular thumping sound can be heard. The camera pans around the corner and reveals a running machine. Mycroft – dressed in gym clothes – is jogging on the machine. After a while he switches it off and jumps off, breathing heavily. He walks a few paces away, then stops and lifts his top to examine his stomach, patting it reflectively and looking quite pleased with himself. On a nearby table, his phone rings. He picks it up and answers. MYCROFT (breathlessly): Yes, what, Sherlock? SHERLOCK (walking through the wedding reception room as he talks into his phone): Why are you out of breath? MYCROFT: Filing. SHERLOCK: Either I’ve caught you in a compromising position or you’ve been working out again. I favour the latter. MYCROFT: What do you want? SHERLOCK: I need your answer, Mycroft, as a matter of urgency. MYCROFT: “Answer”? SHERLOCK: Even at the eleventh hour it’s not too late, you know. MYCROFT (sighing): Oh, Lord. SHERLOCK: Cars can be ordered, private jets commandeered. MYCROFT: Today. It’s today, isn’t it? No, Sherlock, I will not be coming to the “night do,” as you so poetically put it. SHERLOCK (insincerely): What a shame. Mary and John will be extremely d... MYCROFT: ... delighted not to have me hanging around. SHERLOCK: Oh, I don’t know. There should always be a spectre at the feast. MYCROFT (picking up a glass of juice from the table): So, this is it, then. The big day. (He sits down in an armchair.) I suppose I’ll be seeing a lot more of you from now on. SHERLOCK: What do you mean? MYCROFT: Just like old times. SHERLOCK: No, I don’t understand. MYCROFT: Well, it’s the end of an era, isn’t it? John and Mary – domestic bliss. SHERLOCK: No, no, no – I prefer to think of it as the beginning of a new chapter. (Mycroft simply smiles.) SHERLOCK: What? MYCROFT: Nothing! SHERLOCK: I know that silence. What? MYCROFT: Well, I’d better let you get back to it. You have a big speech, or something, don’t you? SHERLOCK (still demanding an answer to his previous question): What? MYCROFT: Cake, karaoke ... mingling. SHERLOCK (angrily): Mycroft! MYCROFT: This is what people do, Sherlock – they get married. I warned you: don’t get involved. SHERLOCK: Involved? I’m not involved. MYCROFT (disbelievingly): No. SHERLOCK: John asked me to be his best man. How could I say no? MYCROFT (insincerely): Absolutely! SHERLOCK: I’m not involved! MYCROFT (insincerely): I believe you! Really, I do! Have a lovely day, and do give the happy couple my best. SHERLOCK: I will. (He lowers the phone, about to switch it off when Mycroft speaks again. Sherlock lifts the phone to his ear once more.) MYCROFT: Oh, by the way, Sherlock – do you remember Redbeard? (Sherlock’s jaw tightens.) SHERLOCK: I’m not a child any more, Mycroft. MYCROFT: No, of course you’re not. Enjoy not getting involved, Sherlock. (Sherlock hangs up. He looks down for a moment, then walks across the room towards the top table.)
Fast-forward – literally – through the wedding meal as the guests eat their way through the three courses and drink lots of champagne, and then the Master of Ceremonies – or possibly just the head waiter – taps a spoon against a champagne glass to get everyone’s attention. MASTER OF CEREMONIES: Pray silence for the best man. (The guests applaud and cheer as Sherlock rises to his feet at the top table. John and Mary are sitting to his right; Janine to his left. He buttons his jacket, looking a little uncomfortable.) SHERLOCK: Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends ... and ... erm ... others. (He stops and blinks. There’s an awkward pause.) SHERLOCK: Er ... w... (John narrows his eyes and looks up at him.) SHERLOCK: A-a-also ... (Mary lifts a thumb to her mouth, rubbing it on her top lip. Mrs Hudson looks nervous and Greg sits back a little, looking concerned.)
FLASHBACK. Greg walks into Molly’s lab at Bart’s. MOLLY: Greg. LESTRADE: Molly. MOLLY (turning to him): I just had a thought. (She is holding a large metal bowl in front of her. He looks into it.) LESTRADE: Is that a brain?! MOLLY: What if John asks Sherlock to be his best man? LESTRADE: Well, he will, won’t he? He’s bound to. MOLLY: Exactly. LESTRADE: So? MOLLY: So he’ll have to make a speech in front of people. (Greg gazes into the distance as if realising the ramifications of this for the first time.) MOLLY: There’ll be actual people there, actually listening. LESTRADE (tentatively): Well, what’s the worst that could happen? MOLLY: Helen Louise probably wondered the same. LESTRADE: Helen Louise? (Molly pointedly looks down at the brain in her bowl.)
FLASHBACK. Mrs Hudson, sitting in her kitchen, answers the phone. MRS HUDSON: Oh, hallo, dear. (Molly is on the other end of the line, again in her lab. She is wearing safety goggles and there is blood spatter on her lab coat. She is holding an electric bone saw in the blood-covered glove on her other hand.) MOLLY (into phone): I was just thinking. If-if John does ask Sherlock ... MRS HUDSON: What, the speech, dear? No, it’ll be fine. MOLLY: It-it’s not just the speech, though, is it?
Shortly afterwards, John lets himself in the front door of 221 and walks towards the stairs. High-pitched hysterical noises are coming through the open door of 221A. As the noises continue, punctuated with an occasional squeal of, “Oh, dear!” and “Oh, brilliant!” John goes into her flat and looks into the kitchen in concern. JOHN: Mrs Hudson? (She waves to him from where she is sitting at the table, laughing hysterically.) MRS HUDSON: Oh, hello, darling! (She continues to giggle.) JOHN: You all right? (She covers her mouth, laughing.) JOHN: I was – I was coming to see Sherlock, and I thought you were ... MRS HUDSON (giggling): Go! JOHN: ... possibly dying. (He grins at the sight of her mirth.) MRS HUDSON: Oh, sorry! (She continues laughing.) JOHN: What’s wrong? MRS HUDSON: The-the telegrams! (She giggles.) JOHN (grinning but clearly with no idea what she means): Sorry, what? MRS HUDSON (giggling): Oh, sorry, dear! (Standing up, she pats his arm and walks away, still shrieking with laughter. John looks bemused.)
THE PRESENT. John closes his eyes in realisation. JOHN (quietly): Telegrams. (Mary looks at him and Sherlock jolts out of his blankness.) SHERLOCK: Right, um ... (He pats his pockets, then seems to realise that the telegrams are in a pile in front of him. John clears his throat. Sherlock does likewise and looks at the guests, swallowing hard.) SHERLOCK: First things first. Telegrams. (He picks up the cards and shows them to the guests.) SHERLOCK (quick fire): Well, they’re not actually telegrams. We just call them telegrams. I don’t know why. Wedding tradition. (He lifts the first card.) SHERLOCK (sarcastically): ... because we don’t have enough of that already, apparently. (John narrows his eyes a little.) SHERLOCK (reading): “To Mr and Mrs Watson. So sorry I’m unable to be with you on your special day. Good luck and best wishes, Mike Stamford.” JOHN: Ah, Mike. MARY: Ahh! SHERLOCK (reading the next card): “To John and Mary. All good wishes for your special day. With love and many big ... (he breaks off, then continues slowly) ... big squishy cuddles, from Stella and Ted.” (He looks up, blinking rapidly. Greg sniggers and Molly smiles.) SHERLOCK (reading the next card): “Mary – lots of love, ...” (He breathes out an almost silent ‘Oh.’ John and Mary look up at him.) JOHN: Yeah? SHERLOCK (disparagingly): “... poppet ...” (He loudly sounds the ‘t’ at the end of the word. John and Mary giggle.) SHERLOCK: “... Oodles of love and heaps of good wishes from CAM.” (Mary’s smile fades. Sherlock continues reading the message.) SHERLOCK: “Wish your family could have seen this.” (John looks round and sees Mary’s face. He reaches out and takes her hand.) JOHN: Hey. Hmm? (She smiles reassuringly at him.) SHERLOCK (looking at the next card): Um, “special day” ... (he drops the card onto the table and looks at the next one) ... “very special day” ... (he drops that one, then continues working rapidly through the next ones) ... “love” ... “love” ... “love” ... “love” ... “lo...”; bit of a theme – you get the general gist. People are basically fond. (There’s some laughter from the guests.) SHERLOCK (looking at them): John Watson. (He gestures towards John.) My friend, John Watson. (He looks down for a moment, then looks at John.) John. (John smiles at him. Sherlock turns to his audience again.) SHERLOCK: When John first broached the subject of being best man, I was confused.
FLASHBACK. John trots up the stairs to 221B. JOHN: Sherlock? SHERLOCK (from the kitchen): What was that noise downstairs? (John turns into the kitchen. Sherlock is standing at the table in his camel coloured dressing gown. Wearing safety glasses, he is holding an eyeball with a large pair of tweezers and is holding a lit blowtorch near to the optic nerve dangling behind it.) JOHN: Er, it was Mrs Hudson laughing. SHERLOCK: Sounded like she was torturing an owl. JOHN: Yeah. Well, it was laughter. SHERLOCK: Could have been both. JOHN (looking at what he’s doing): Busy? (Sherlock sighs heavily.) SHERLOCK: Just occupying myself. (He lifts his head and looks dramatically towards the ceiling.) Sometimes, it’s so-o-o hard not smoking. (The eyeball slips out of the tweezers and drops with a splash into a mug on the table. Sherlock looks down at it.) SHERLOCK: Oh. JOHN: Mm-hmm. Mind if I interrupt? SHERLOCK (putting down the tweezers and gesturing to the chair at the end of the table): Er, be my guest. (He switches off the blowtorch and puts it down while John walks over and pulls back the chair from the table. Sherlock picks up the mug and offers it to him.) SHERLOCK: Tea? JOHN: Er ... (He shakes one hand to decline the offer. Sherlock puts down the mug and takes off his glasses.) JOHN (sitting down): So. The big question. SHERLOCK (turning to face him): Mm-hm. JOHN (folding his hands and putting them onto the table in front of him): The best man. SHERLOCK: The best man? JOHN: What do you think? SHERLOCK (instantly): Billy Kincaid. JOHN: Sorry, what? SHERLOCK (quick fire): Billy Kincaid, the Camden Garrotter. Best man I ever knew. Vast contributions to charity, never disclosed. (John frowns.) SHERLOCK (quick fire): Personally managed to save three hospitals from closure and ran the best and safest children’s homes in north England. (John tiredly rubs his fingers over his eyes.) SHERLOCK (grimacing briefly): Yes, every now and again there’d be some garrottings, but stacking up the lives saved against the garrottings, on balance I’d say ... JOHN (interrupting): For my wedding! For me. I need a best man. SHERLOCK: Oh, right. JOHN: Maybe not a garrotter. SHERLOCK: Gavin? JOHN: Who? SHERLOCK: Gavin Lestrade? He’s a man, and good at it. JOHN: It’s Greg. And he’s not my best friend. SHERLOCK: Oh, Mike Stamford, I see. Well, he’s nice, um, though I’m not sure how well he’d cope with all ... JOHN (interrupting): No, Mike’s great, but he’s not my best friend. (Sherlock looks thoughtfully at him as if he can’t think of another friend to suggest.) JOHN: Look, Sherlock, this is the biggest and most important day of my life. SHERLOCK (dubiously, pulling a face): Well ... JOHN: No, it is! It is, and I want to be up there with the two people that I love and care about most in the world. SHERLOCK: Yes. (John nods. Clearly oblivious, Sherlock waits for him to tell him who these people are.) JOHN: So, Mary Morstan ... SHERLOCK: Yes. JOHN (sighing tightly): ... and ... (He looks up at Sherlock, who is still patiently waiting for further information. Eventually John pulls in a long breath.) JOHN: ... you. (Sherlock blinks rapidly several times but otherwise doesn’t move or react.)
RECEPTION. SHERLOCK: I confess at first I didn’t realise he was asking me. When finally I understood, I expressed to him that I was both flattered and ... surprised.
FLASHBACK. Sherlock has frozen solid, staring blankly in John’s direction but not actually looking at him. John taps his foot patiently.
RECEPTION. SHERLOCK: I explained to him that I’d never expected this request and I was a little daunted in the face of it.
FLASHBACK. Sherlock is still motionless. JOHN: Sherlock. (Sherlock doesn’t react.)
RECEPTION. SHERLOCK: I nonetheless promised that I would do my very best to accomplish a task which was – for me – as demanding and difficult as any I had ever contemplated. Additionally, I thanked him for the trust he’d placed in me ... (John frowns as if unable to remember this conversation.) SHERLOCK: ... and indicated that I was, in some ways, very close to being ... moved by it.
FLASHBACK. Sherlock is still fixed in place, staring sightlessly ahead of him. The silence drags on for long seconds. JOHN: That’s getting a bit scary now.
RECEPTION. SHERLOCK: It later transpired that I had said none of this out loud. (John laughs, and some of the guests join in.)
FLASHBACK. Sherlock’s brain finally begins to reboot and he takes a breath. He swallows and narrows his eyes slightly as he refocuses and looks at John. SHERLOCK: So, in fact ... (He thinks for a moment.) SHERLOCK: You-you mean ... JOHN: Yes. SHERLOCK: I’m your ... (John nods.) SHERLOCK: ... best ... JOHN: ... man. SHERLOCK (almost simultaneously): ... friend? JOHN: Yeah, ’course you are. ’Course you’re my best friend. (He smiles. Without looking down, Sherlock absently picks up the mug from the table and raises it towards his mouth. John watches with interest while he takes a long slurping drink and then swallows.) JOHN: Well, how was that? (Sherlock licks his lips, thinks about it for a moment, then nods.) SHERLOCK: Surprisingly okay. (Inside the mug, the eyeball pops up to the surface of the tea.) JOHN: So you’ll have to make a speech, of course. (Sherlock offlines again for a moment, then looks at John.)
RECEPTION. Sherlock reaches into his jacket pocket, clearing his throat, and takes out a handful of cue cards, looking at each one and putting it onto the table as he talks to himself. SHERLOCK: Done that. ... Done that ... Done that bit ... Done that bit ... Done that bit ... Hmm ... (He looks up at the guests again, then turns to John.) SHERLOCK: I’m afraid, John, I can’t congratulate you. (Mary looks surprised and John looks up at him.) SHERLOCK (looking at the guests): All emotions, and in particular love, stand opposed to the pure, cold reason I hold above all things. A wedding is, in my considered opinion, nothing short of a celebration of all that is false and specious and irrational and sentimental in this ailing and morally compromised world. (The guests begin to look uncomfortable and some of them start murmuring quietly to each other. Greg and Molly look at Sherlock in horror.) SHERLOCK: Today we honour the death-watch beetle that is the doom of our society and, in time – one feels certain – our entire species. (The guests stare at him. Sherlock pauses for a moment.) SHERLOCK: But anyway ... (he looks down at his cards) ... let’s talk about John. JOHN (quietly): Please. SHERLOCK (looking up again): If I burden myself with a little help-mate during my adventures, it is not out of sentiment or caprice – it is that he has many fine qualities of his own that he has overlooked in his obsession with me. (Greg laughs silently.) SHERLOCK: Indeed, any reputation I have for mental acuity and sharpness comes, in truth, from the extraordinary contrast John so selflessly provides. (John sighs heavily, while Mary frowns.) SHERLOCK: It is a fact, I believe, that brides tend to favour exceptionally plain bridesmaids for their big day. There is a certain analogy there, I feel. (Janine stares up at him and the other two bridesmaids look uncomfortable.) SHERLOCK (moving on to his next card): ... and contrast is, after all, God’s own plan to enhance the beauty of his creation ... (The vicar smiles.) SHERLOCK: ... or it would be if God were not a ludicrous fantasy designed to provide a career opportunity for the family idiot. (Mary face-palms and John is half-hiding behind his clasped hands. The vicar looks at Sherlock grimly, and more guests are muttering amongst themselves. Sherlock pauses for a moment.) SHERLOCK: The point I’m trying to make is that I am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-round obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet. (He looks at the vicar.) SHERLOCK: I am dismissive of the virtuous ... (He turns to Janine.) SHERLOCK: ... unaware of the beautiful ... (He turns towards Mary and John.) SHERLOCK: ... and uncomprehending in the face of the happy. So if I didn’t understand I was being asked to be best man, it is because I never expected to be anybody’s best friend. (The guests have fallen silent again and are listening intently. Molly and Greg exchange a long glance.) SHERLOCK: Certainly not the best friend of the bravest and kindest and wisest human being I have ever had the good fortune of knowing. (Mary smiles proudly at her husband. Several of the guests make appreciative “aww” sounds.) SHERLOCK: John, I am a ridiculous man ... (John smiles and nods his agreement.) SHERLOCK: ... redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship. But, as I’m apparently your best friend, I cannot congratulate you on your choice of companion. (He looks down for a moment, then smiles a little.) SHERLOCK: Actually, now I can. (The guests murmur again, but now their tone is much more approving. John and Mary smile.) SHERLOCK: Mary, when I say you deserve this man, it is the highest compliment of which I am capable. John, you have endured war, and injury, and tragic loss ... (he leans closer to John) ... so sorry again about that last one ... (he straightens up again) ... so know this: today you sit between the woman you have made your wife and the man you have saved – in short, the two people who love you most in all this world. And I know I speak for Mary as well when I say we will never let you down, and we have a lifetime ahead to prove that. (Mrs Hudson whimpers and holds a tissue to her nose. Molly wipes tears from her eyes with her serviette. Other guests – even some of the men – sniffle. John turns to Mary and whispers to her.) JOHN: If I try and hug him, stop me. MARY: Certainly not. (She pats his arm. Sherlock moves on to his next card.) SHERLOCK: Ah, yes. Now on to some funny stories about John ... (He trails off as he looks up and sees so many of the guests crying.) SHERLOCK (quick fire): What’s wrong? What happened? Why are you all doing that? John? (Molly smiles proudly at him.) MRS HUDSON (tearfully): Oh, Sherlock! (Sherlock looks down at John.) SHERLOCK: Did I do it wrong? JOHN (standing up): No, you didn’t. Come here. (He pulls him into a tight hug. The guests break into applause. The fandom goes crazy.) SHERLOCK: I haven’t finished yet. JOHN: Yeah, I know, I know. SHERLOCK (holding up his next card and talking over the applause as John releases him): So, on to some funny stories ... JOHN: Can you – can you wait ’til I sit down? (Sherlock nods as the applause continues. John sits down, clearing his throat, and the applause finally fades.) SHERLOCK: So, on to some funny stories about John. (John chuckles. Sherlock looks at the guests.) SHERLOCK: If you could all just cheer up a bit, that would ... (The guests laugh.) SHERLOCK: ... be better. On we go. So, for funny stories ... (he reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone) ... one has to look no further than John’s blog. (He holds up the phone. John laughs and turns to speak quietly to Mary.) JOHN: Here we go. SHERLOCK: The record of our time together. Of course, he does tend to romanticise things a bit, but then, you know ... (he looks down at John and Mary and half-winks at them) ... he’s a romantic. We’ve tackled some strange cases: the Hollow Client ...
