John and I are playing a brilliant game. We are in space and it is our job to rescue planets that are about to be blown up. John is letting me wear his space holster and use his stun gun that he got for his birthday. (The blue one. He’s kept the red one with the flashing lights for himself.)
John says I have to be nice to the evacuees that have come aboard our space craft. That is so illogical. All our evacuees are pretend people. One of the joys of pretend people is that you can be as rude to them as you like.
John doesn’t think it’s fair that we can’t both be Supreme Commander. I tried to explain that because I’m smarter I should definitely be in charge but he is not understanding me.
John got really angry when I told the Prime Minister of Endor that his planet was going to be blown to bits. He said I showed no sympathy for the man even though I offered him a cup of tea. John’s face got all red and he took his blue laser gun back and had Mycroft call his mother to come pick him up. He wouldn’t even wait in the house for her. He went and sat outside the front door even though it was dark.
I watched him through the curtains to make sure he wasn’t kidnapped.
Though if he was kidnapped that would be rather thrilling. I would rush over to John’s house and borrow his red cape and then I would hunt down his kidnapper and bring him to justice.
John even took his space holster back even though he said I could borrow it for the week. I was going to wear it to Great Aunt Ermentrude’s on Sunday and tell my cousin Leopold that there was a laser gun in the holster but it was invisible to anyone who is an idiot. Leopold will believe anything.
John would say that is not a very nice thing to do but I am not friends with John anymore so I don’t care about that at all.
If John had been kidnapped and I rescued him I bet he would be so grateful that he would give me the space holster. But he wasn’t. His mother picked him up and ruffled his hair and hugged him because John was still crying.
Nothing ever goes my way.
I would not eat my dinner.
Nanny made me sit at the table with it until she pretended to go to bed. Then Mycroft came in and said he would eat it for me if I told him what was wrong.
“John is mean and we are not friends anymore,” I said.
Mycroft says I am still friends with John because he is the only boy who has shown any interest in playing with me more than once. In short, he says, I must take care of John because he is the only friend I have.
That is so not true. I have loads of chums.
Well, come to think of it, not exactly loads. Loads may be overstating the case a bit. The thing is, after I got John I was just too busy to make other friends. I’m sure loads of people are just dying to be my friend. In fact, after word gets out that John and I are no longer joined at the hip, I bet I’ll just be besieged with offers of friendship.
Right, I must take an organized and scientific approach to selecting my new friend.
My teacher, Mrs Hudson, was really cross with me because I forgot to complete my homework. I was super busy drawing up an interview schedule and designing a practical and written exam for potential new friends. I even made flyers and put one on everyone’s desk (except John’s) so they will know what time their interview is. I told her all this but she was not moved in the slightest.
I have to stay in at break to complete my assignment. I’m not too worried. It will only take me a few minutes to complete. I’m also not worried that John asked to sit next to Mike Stamford instead of me. John Watson no longer exists for me so what he does is not something that I notice.
My teacher stopped trying to make me show my work for math problems in October. I think the effort of it just exhausted her and she apparently has better things to do with her life. That was around the time she got a new boyfriend who is an investment banker and started paying more attention to her personal appearance.
So I finished my math assignment in about three minutes but she still wouldn’t let me go to break. She said I could use the time to write an apology note to John. I told her I didn’t know anyone named John but she just put a piece of astronaut stationary on my desk and walked away.
Dear Mr. Person Whose Name I’ve Forgotten,
I’m sorry that you were mean and took your space holster back even though you said I could borrow it for a whole week. I’m also sorry that you were not kidnapped when you were sulking on my front steps.
Sherlock Holmes, The Universe’s ONLY Supreme Commander of Endangered Planet Operations
My teacher took my note away and tucked it into her drawer and said I could just sit in my seat until everyone gets back.
John has chosen Mike as his partner for our new science project. That is absurd. I am so much better at science than Mike Stamford. I don’t know what John is playing at. John actually cares about what sort of grades he gets. He’d get a much better grade if he were my partner.
I don’t care too much about grades. It is my understanding that you get good grades if you take the time to prove you understand things. It’s much less bother to just understand things and not worry about proving it.
When John and I work on projects together I do all the understanding and John does all the proving.
Nanny gave me biscuits for my snack even though it’s not Friday. I usually am only allowed fruit. That is pretty much the only good thing that happened today.
I have my first round of interviews at break today. Soon I will have a new friend and John Watson will no longer exist for me.
No one kept their interview appointment except for Molly Hooper and I didn’t even schedule Molly for an interview. I will try to keep an open mind. Perhaps Molly is secretly really interesting.
Molly is not secretly interesting. Her questionnaire is a disaster. Under Really Cool Toys That I Own she put down that she has twelve Pretty Ponies including the pink one.
I think I may vomit.
I told Molly that based on my initial findings we could not be friends but she could be my partner for the science project.
“My rabbit just died and I’ve still got his body. Maybe we could do an autopsy on it or something? We could find out what he died of.”
John would never think to perform an autopsy on an old pet. He cried for a week when his beagle died last March. Molly and I are going to have the best science project ever!
Mrs Hudson says we can’t do an autopsy for our science project. She gave us a list of projects to choose from but none of them involve the dead. Molly and I went to mourn in the coat closet while we looked over the list. I didn’t want to do it at all anymore but Molly says we can do the one with the batteries for class and still perform the rabbit autopsy as independent research.
Sally Donovan just accused Molly of kissing me while we were sequestered in the coat closet. Actually what she said was, “Why would you want to snog that freak, Hooper?” Molly went all red and I was trying to think of something to say when that clumsy Watson fellow walked by and tripped and all the paint on his paint tray spilled all over Sally’s new jumper. Everyone was looking at that so no one noticed that Molly was crying and she was able to hurry off to the loo.
I don’t know why Molly was crying. I’m the one Sally called a freak.
Only Jim Moriarty kept his interview appointment at lunch. That is really unfortunate because I hate Jim and it will be very difficult to have a friend that I hate.
I mean, on paper Jim looks pretty good. He has an impressive list of cool toys and he always gets biscuits as a snack. Jim is not very good at sharing though. When John was my friend he would always give me half his biscuits and I would give him half of my fruit but Jim doesn’t think that sort of arrangement will suit him.
Also, during the practical exam he would not let me be Supreme Commander. He kept calling me lieutenant and when I called him a civilian he went and sat on my head. He might still be sitting on my head if Clumsy Watson had not walked by and accidentally spilled milk all over Jim’s new shoes.
He went even more hysterical than Sally had and had to be led to the nurse’s office to calm down.
Today is my very last day of interviews. I am so excited.
No one is showing up. Four people have missed their interviews so far. Can’t people read clocks anymore?
John Watson showed up during Greg Lestrade’s scheduled interview time. I did not know what to say. John doesn’t need to be interviewed. I already know that John has cool toys and will share his snack and will not let me be Supreme Commander.
“You actually are a better Supreme Commander than me,” John said.
“I know,” I said. “That is what I was trying to tell you.”
John held up a finger to silence me. “You have to work on being nicer though. I’m not a genius but I’m not an idiot either.”
“Do you mean you want to be friends again? I’m afraid I’ve already got some more friends and you have Mike so I don’t know how we’ll fit it in.”
“Mike is really nice but he’s not as exciting as you are. My mother likes him. I haven’t had a serious injury since I’ve started hanging out with Mike.”
That is strange. John is always getting serious injuries. There was that time when he got rope burns when we were playing Hostage, and the time his eyebrows got burned off when we were exploring fire, and the time he got hypothermia when we were playing Trapped in an Avalanche.
“Who are your new friends?” John wanted to know.
“Well, Molly. She’s more of a colleague really.”
“Oh,” John said. “Well, do you want to play after school or not? I’ve got a new game. It’s called Detective and you can be the Mad Genius Detective and I will be a Warrior Medicine Man that provides you with vital help.”
I know I said John and I aren’t friends anymore but he does have the best ideas for games.
“Can I be a Mad Scientist Detective?”
John smiled. We are going to solve so many crimes.
Dear Doctor Watson,
Thank you for letting me borrow your death-ray shooting magnifying glass for a whole week. If you ever get kidnapped I will rush to rescue you and untie you so you can kick the bad guys in the head and shoot them with your Warrior Medicine Man gun.
Also, I’m sorry we got stuck in those handcuffs and it took your mother and Mycroft so long to find the key.
Very fondly yours,
Mr. Sherlock Holmes, The World’s Only Mad Scientist Detective