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An Ongoing Dialogue Between Two Brothers (With Additional Commentary by Their Mummy)

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From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Spoken word

You’re noisy and ugly and you’re always crying. I hate you. Mummy doesn’t love me anymore because she’s so busy looking after you. Stop stealing my Mummy.


From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Bodily waste

Whilst at age six months I am physically unable to speak, my cognition is already in far excess of my chronological age. I thus must express my disdain in a more oblique fashion, ergo, by urinating on you. Have a nice day.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Deafening shrieks

I am bored. Entertain me, or I shall continue to scream.

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Meaningful silence

I am wearing earplugs. I cannot hear you, therefore I do not suffer any compulsion to obey.

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Hissy fit

You drooling infant. Was it necessary for you to steal and shred my homework?

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Deceptively adorable toddler babble

Yes. Yes, it was. You solved a fraction incorrectly. I found it irritating.


From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Frustrated tantrum

As of counting, you have stolen my Mummy, my homework, and a considerable amount of my sleep due to your deafening teething related screaming. I must request that you return all three forthwith.


From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Deafening teething related screaming

No.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Heart broken sobbing

My dummy appears to be missing. I am most distressed. Might I presume that you are the culprit behind this dastardly act?

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Smug smile

This is correct. And see if you can ever find it again, you irritating little bastard.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Heart broken whimpering

I am extremely emotionally distraught.

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Smug smile metamorphosing into large grin

Your suffering gives me pleasure.

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Hissing from behind clenched teeth

The Easter egg from Nanna that I was saving appears to have disappeared.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Evil leer

You are distinctly pudgy, my dear brother. I was helping you towards a slimmer figure.

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: A very potty mouth

You are ruining my life.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: The first proto-words of vocabulary development

I suggest you become accustomed to this state of affairs.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: One syllable words spoken with a distinct lisp

Miss Popsey Poo Puppet is not in her chair.

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Victory pose

This is because I have fed her to the neighbour’s three starving and badly trained Rottweilers. I felt that your emotional dependence on a stuffed toy was impeding your intellectual development, and that it was my brotherly duty to intercede.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Incoherent sobbing

I need Miss Popsey Poo Puppet as a crutch to survive in a confusing world.

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Pained whimpers

Your teeth appear to be sunk into the tender flesh of my ankle.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Voiceless conveyance of pure sadism

I am discovering that one’s position in the world may be determined by constructing a hypothesis, and subsequently determining the status of this hypothesis by a systematic approach of trial and error. Or to summarise, I shall conduct experiments in order to determine both current status and projected outcomes. I no longer need Miss Popsey Poo Puppet.

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Physical violence

I must protest your decision to experiment with your teeth upon my skin.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Agony

There is an umbrella jammed in my eye.

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Sadistic glee

And see if you catch me without an umbrella to hand ever again.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Malevolent snarls

I’ll get you, my pretty, and your little dog too.

 

To: Sherlock
From: Mycroft
Medium: You were warned

Your copy of ‘The Wizard of Oz’ has now joined Miss Popsey Poo Puppet in the graveyard of the bellies of the neighbour’s three starving and badly trained Rottweilers.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Hammering on the bedroom door

I know that you have lollies hidden inside your room. I must insist that you deliver them to me.

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Burn in hell

No.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Conniving primary schooler

Have I mentioned how much I love and admire my elder brother today?


From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Absolutely not

No, you may not borrow my chemistry textbooks in order to conduct your first forays into the manufacturing of incendiaries.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Wheedling

I shall help you with your French homework in exchange.

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Nice try

Thank you for the offer, but my French is already excellent. I am also fluent in German and Portuguese. My Latin is as yet progressing, but appears to be improving through the medium of writing all personal notes and papers in said language.


From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Booooooooooooooooored

Dead languages are pointless and tedious and I refuse to waste my time on them.

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Mousetrap

Oh dear, I’m sorry, did you hurt your hand attempting to retrieve my personal diary from its hiding place wedged up in the disused chimney?

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Pain

It’s not like I can even read Latin.

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Eye roll

Liar.


To: Sherlock
From: Mycroft
Medium: Hushed voice so that Mummy doesn’t hear

Where are my cigarettes?

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Croaking

I smoked them all. They were utterly vile and I feel desperately ill.

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: I win

Of course they were vile. They were menthols.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Fit of pique

If they were vile, what did you have them in your room for?

 

From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Schadenfreude

So that you would smoke said vile things in one single go in order to spite me, and then feel desperately ill.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Sulking

That’s not fair.


From: Mycroft
To: Sherlock
Medium: Inspiration

My life with you up to this point has been utter hell, but this latest turn of events suggests that I may have a hitherto unknown knack for manipulating others, even those with higher IQs than mine. I find this process highly pleasurable. I have found my calling. I’m going into politics.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: Dull!

I find you dull beyond words. I would demonstrate just how dull I find you, however, these other cigarettes that I found hidden in Mummy’s room are both soothing and extremely pleasant and I suddenly have no inclination to continue our current interaction. You may go now.


From: Mycroft

To: Sherlock
Medium: The fuck!?

Sherlock. That isn’t a cigarette that you’re smoking right now.

 

From: Sherlock
To: Mycroft
Medium: It’s alllllllllllllllllll good

Got any chocolate?


From: Mycroft
To: Mummy
Medium: Panic

WHY THE HELL DO YOU HAVE MARIJUANA HIDDEN IN YOUR BEDROOM?!

 

From: Sherlock
To: The world in general
Medium: Profound serenity

I could really use some chocolate right now.

 

From: Mummy
To: Mycroft and Sherlock
Medium: Utter exhaustion

I have discovered the recipe for peace in the ongoing war between the Republic of Mycroft and the Empire of Sherlock. Sherlock, pass me the joint. Mycroft, fetch the chocolate.

 

From: Sherlock and Mycroft
To: Mummy
Medium: Terrified obedience

Yes, Mummy.

 

From: Mummy
To: You
Medium: The fuzzy pink mists of pending insanity

You try raising two sociopathic manipulative geniuses perpetually at war with each other and see if you can get through the day unmedicated.

 

END