A modern update finds the famous sleuth and his doctor partner solving crime in 21st century London.
– A D-notice has been slapped on the entire incident. Only those within this room – code names Antarctica, Langdale, Porlock and Love – will ever know the whole truth. As far as everyone else is concerned, going to the Prime Minister and way beyond, Charles Augustus... Are you tweeting?!
– No.
– Well, that’s what it looks like.
– Of course I’m not tweeting. Why would I be tweeting?
– Give me that.
– What? No. Get off. What are you doing? Get off. What...?
– Give it here.
– “Back on terra firma.”
– Don’t read them out.
– “Free as a bird.”
– God, you’re such a spoilsport.
– Will you take this matter seriously, Sherlock?
– I am taking it seriously. What makes you think I’m not taking it seriously?
– “Hashtag OhWhatABeautifulMorning.”
You can't save John because he won't let you. He won't allow himself to be saved. The only way to save John, is to make him save you.
— There is, in this facility, a prisoner whose intellectual abilities are of occasional use to the British government.
— What, for, like, really difficult sums, long division, that sort of thing?
— She predicted the exact dates of the last three terrorists attacks on the British mainland after an hour on Twitter. That sort of thing.
— Doctor Watson, why did he do that to me? That was insane!
— Er... yes, well, someone convinced him that you wouldn't tell the truth unless you were actually wetting yourself.
— Someone?
— Probably me.
Red alert! Red alert! Big, red, bouncy, red alert! Klingons attacking lower decks! Also cowboys in black hats and Darth Vader. Don't be alarmed, I'm here now, I'm here now! Do you miss me? Do you miss me? Do you miss me? Miss me? Miss me? Miss me?
— Would you like a cup of tea?
— Thank you.
— The kettle's over there.
