Sleeping on the couch was not a typical thing for the detective; he had his own bed only a few feet from where he laid sprawled, but the past few nights the couch had been his choice. One leg hung over the edge of the worn cushions, an arm draped across his eyes, and his navy blue robe twisted and tangled about his limbs. Yes, this was one of the great detective's bad days; Sherlock Holmes was in a slump.
His eyes slowly peered open and his arm moved just enough to let the man glare daggers at the door as it creaked open. In walked his partner in crime, John Watson, who walked carefully, heel-toe-heel-toe, and eased the door shut as quietly as he could. It seemed to Mr. Holmes that his friend was trying to hide his presence. Now why would
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He walked past the fried eyeballs and frozen thumbs; past the piles and piles of lab equipment and "experiments" and God knows what else. He placed a hand on the refrigerator door, contemplating whether or not it was safe to venture into the unknown depths of the ice box. The last time he had braved such a fate, he was met by a severed head, seemingly gazing lifelessly back into his soul. John's stomach growled and he took in a deep breath, deciding it was worth it. He was starving.
He closed his eyes and whipped the refrigerator open. Slowly, one optic opened and then the other followed; they scanned for any sort of human body parts or mutant creature that had the possibility of lurking there.
Nothing.
There was nothing in the fridge.
And by nothing, this means there wasnt a single speck of anything in the fridge.
John slammed the door shut and stomped back into the living room. "Damnit, Sherlock! I just went shopping yesterday!"
The detective, who had resumed his sprawled position amongst the couch, gave an exasperated sigh. "Yes." He responded, stringing the simple word along his exhale.
John stopped and pressed his hand against the wall, leaning against his and furrowing his brow. "Yes, okay, glad to know that's clear." He said calmly; then with a short, sarcastic laugh added, "Where the hell are they, Sherlock? Where the hell. Did you put the groceries. Everything in the fridge, Sherlock? Where did you put it?"
"I threw them out." The detective responded
John rolls his eyes and starts walking over to untangle the detective. "There's like twenty knots, how did you get yourself into this position Sherlock?"
. Entering through a set of double doors, he stood flabbergasted by its size and furnishings of a large bed, desk, several stuffed chairs and even a fireplace. Book shelves, lined one of its walls, entirely filled from floor to ceiling with books, but the balcony, drew his attention with its panoramic view of the city, however the bed beckoned him, and looking very inviting, quickly stripped himself of his armor and clothes to climb into it and when his head hit the goose down pillow, was fast asleep.
I found this story very exciting but most of all I like the part when
When someone mentions the occupation of detective, a single image usually comes to mind, a man wearing a cape and deerstalker, holding a magnifying glass and smoking a pipe. This entire image can be contributed to one character: Sherlock Holmes. Holmes is considered by many to be the greatest detective to ever exist, even if he only exists in the pages of books and on movie and television screens. It is impossible to escape the influence of Holmes. Countless references are made to him in all types of media and he is used as an inspiration to may more fictional characters we have all grown to love. The cultural impact of Sherlock Holmes has spread to more than just fiction; Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s
The door opened, and the creature flopped out onto the floor in front of everypony. The extraterrestrial
Holmes and Watson in the Detective Genre The detective performs a key role in the story and provides hope to the reader, especially in the time when Sherlock Holmes was written. Victorian life was hard, law-less and dangerous and especially in London. In every story Conan Doyle A vital component to the detective genre is the sleuth himself who in these stories is portrayed as a convincing, sharp, and witty character; a gentleman with intelligence, more so than the reader and side kick, well rounded and good natured. The detective performs a key role in the story and provides hope to the reader, especially in the time when Sherlock Holmes was written.
The classic mystery novel, Sherlock Holmes, features a murder-mystery detective Sherlock Holmes, and his army doctor colleague Dr. John Watson. The story revolves around the main character, Sherlock Holmes, and his unique method to solving crimes. The story is mainly all about Sherlock and his abilities, which then rises the question about the importance of the character of Dr.Watson, both to the chaarcter of Sherlock Holmes, and towards the readers.
At last, the signal was visible. A light glimmering in the small bedroom window at Stoke Moran. This is when Holmes and Watson pounced into action, quickly making their way to the manor. Once they had arrived, the sleuths crept into Julia’s room and set up camp. Each detective sat with a weapon, intently focused on there surroundings.
Due to Holmes’ suspicion he and Watson desired to investigate further; they departed to Stoke Moran. They revealed some interesting clues. First of all, the bed was clamped to the floor, there were metallic bars on the windows, along with a forged bell chord attached to a ventilator. Holmes soon found out that the ventilator was connected to Dr. Roylott 's room. This made Sherlock curious, wanting to know more. Helen was a young woman who was frightened of the strong and abusive, Dr. Roylott. She had prearranged to switch places with Sherlock and Watson so they could resolve the case once and for all. She exchanged places after Dr. Roylott was “asleep”. When Sherlock and Holmes arrived to Stoke Moran, they waited and waited. During the middle of the story, both the mood and tone shift. The mood soon became petrified. The tone soon also became something else, challenging. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson wait for something to happen. In
In Tom Stoppard’s skilfully delineated play, The Real Inspector Hound, he seeks to merely parody the traditional crime fiction genre. The play does not criticise or parody at the expense of the genre but it is simply poking affectionate fun at it. Stoppard identifies the classic techniques used in crime fiction and exaggerates it to such an extent that it causes the audience to laugh at the ludicrousness of the genre. He parodies the typical layout and the archetypal characters used in traditional crime fiction stories. Stoppard adds to the amusement of the play through the use of parallel plots that absurdly and unpredictably merge, creating a classic yet twisted denouement. The Real Inspector Hound is a play that cleverly fulfils all
He landed his arms and hands onto the top of the desk and bent over it heavily, without glancing at me. He seemed too weak for the ability to speak and I asked as few questions as I could for his purpose. His hair, which resembled the ebony of a dark oak tree swung low across his face from the perspective of him that I had. I stood silently nearer the door than he but also closer to the man than the door, about more than in the middle, here I spoke. “Would you not be more comfortable on a couch, to cushion and rest your body, Sir?” his appearance when he spoke was rather brusque but his voice of a measured gentleness. “Thank you madam, I do envy the couch for its comfort if, of course I am of no ill-will bother to you nor your furniture”.
“Hey Sherlock,” He greeted swiftly, glancing at the rows of packaged goods as he passed. “How’s is going?”
In the passages, “Sherlock Holmes and the Blue Carbuncle” and “How Watson Learned the Trick”, Watson developed different perspectives of Sherlock Holmes. We can find Watson’s perspective of Sherlock Holmes by how the author develops the character in each story.
One of the things that make the Sherlock Holmes books distinctive is their point of view. The books are written as an account Sherlock Holmes’ case, written by Dr. James Watson, chronicling the achievements of the detective. This book, in particular, is unique in its point of view. The first few chapters are told in past tense, as Watson recalls the events; the next few chapters are present tense, in the form of extracts from Watson’s diary or letters sent to Holmes from the hall; the last few chapters shift back to past tense recollections.
We made our way to the kitchen and began rifling through the cupboards, sometimes slipping on the debris the undead had knocked on the floor. We avoided the blood-splattered areas from the zombie’s earlier head wound, searching only the untainted storage areas, not wanting to take any risks with whatever contamination caused this outbreak.