"So, let me see if I've got this straight, Sherlock. Mr. Holmes, your father, isn't actually Mr. Holmes at all but Bertram Wooster, Lord Yaxley. Your mum however wanted to keep her own name after the marriage, or rather the name of the assumed identity she was given after she stopped spying on the Soviets, or maybe the Chinese."
"Or maybe the Americans, John dearest. Who can say for sure which side I was actually working for? And it seemed like such a waste to give the name up after the nice Gentlemen at MI6 went to such trouble to fabricate it for me."
"Furthermore Lord Yaxley..."
"Call me Bertie old thing, I don't much hold with these stuffy titles, what."
"Furthermore Bertie isn't actually your biological father at all, rather he let his valet, Mr. Jeeves here stand in for him!"
"Most important undertaking of my life the children were, right up there with aunt avoidance and upholding the code of the Woosters. I didn't want to bungle them up. I knew Jeeves would be up to the task."
"It was was a most sensible decision Sir, unlike I might add, the paisley tie you bought last week."
"That reminds me Jeeves, I didn't see it in my closet this morning, whatever happened to it?"
"There was an unfortunate incident with a goose and a wheelbarrow, sir. If I am not mistaken a not insignificant amount of manure was also involved. I took the liberty to dispose of the remains."
"Of the goose?"
"The tie, sir."
"Well bally it all Jeeves, it's a conspiracy I tell you! Every time I bring home a smashing piece of couture, if that's the word I want, some grisly fate befalls it. I want you to look into the matter, Jeeves. If there are any tie-destroying maniacs out there following my every step for the last forty years then I want to bally well know all about it!
"Very well sir, I will do my best."
"That's the spirit! I have every confidence in you, Jeeves."
"Thank you, sir. If I may bring the conversation back on track however, Dr. Watson still appears confused."
"Yes, of course, sorry old thing, your a good egg for being so patient. Well, you would have to be to stand living with Sherlock. Don't pout Sherlock, it's true. If you hadn't moved to London when you came of age I would have bally thrown you out of the house myself. Or sternly glared at you anyway. In any case, it was the best way to go about things. This way they will inherit my money and Mycroft the title if he cares for it and as you surely noticed, they got Jeeves' enormous brain out of the deal too. Best of both worlds I say. And make no mistake, I am the boys' father in every way except blood."
"And diaper changes, Darling."
"And temper tantrums, sir."
"Well I say!"
"Stop your blustering Love, I know you went out to the shed for a smoke every time Sherlock needed his little butt cleaned or Mycroft started screaming for candy."
"Well I never...!"
“Mummy, don't talk about my butt!”
“I am quite sure you avoided The Talk with both of them as well.”
"Would you care for some tea Dr. Watson, sir?"
"Thank you Jeeves, much obliged, could you make it extra strong?"