Title: A Whole Lot of Bull
Form/Wordcount: 378 words
Characters/Pairings: Holmes, Watson
Rating: G
Warnings/Content: N/A
Author’s Notes: Written for the Dec 2017 prompt:
pick a precious stone or metal and an animal as well, and then include them in your story, and specifically for my own prompt:
Holmes dresses up as a prize bull and takes the silver medal at an agricultural show. This idea was inspired by
Richard and Cherry Kearton's ox hide, which I first heard about on QI.
Watson fiddled with his judge’s badge, glanced around and edged closer to the bull’s mouth. He cleared his throat.
“How... is it going, dear fellow?”
There was a pause and then the bull answered him.
“Very well, Watson! I believe I’ve managed to get a clear photograph of our suspect talking to the associate he insists he’s never met. So if you could ask Inspector Granger to bring the cart round? If it’s parked in front of me, I should be able to exit discreetly and help you both to load the hide.”
“Of course.” Watson looked behind him at the crowds enjoying the agricultural show. “Though I do think you’d better wait until after the prizes are awarded, Holmes. It would look more natural for us both to leave after that.”
“Indeed,” said Holmes’ voice. “I bow to your greater wisdom, old chap, and I will see you in a little while!”
“Until later then.” Watson walked away from the bull as nonchalantly as possible.
A man smiled at him as he passed. “That’s a splendid-looking beast, isn’t it? I suppose you must rate it highly the way you’ve been going backwards and forwards to examine it. In the running for a prize, is it?”
Watson returned the smile cautiously. “Well… It might be.”
“Silver!”
Holmes strode into 221B’s sitting room and threw himself down into his chair.
“Well, yes,” said Watson, “but—”
“Silver, Watson!” Holmes scowled. “Do you know the work Mr. Rowland Ward put into that bull, to
my design? The scraping? The shaping? Not to mention having to dispose of an entire bull’s worth of meat!”
Watson furrowed his brow. “But be reasonable, old man. I couldn’t have awarded you the gold medal. There would have been so much attention—reporters, photographers and so on. People would have noticed the bull wasn’t moving!”
Holmes didn’t reply. He simply turned his head away and continued to mutter to himself.
Watson sighed.
He gloomily settled himself down in his own chair just as Mrs. Hudson made her entrance with the tea.
She stopped and furrowed her brow at the scene of misery before her.
“Now, now, Mr. Holmes. What on earth are you beefing about?”
And she frowned at Dr. Watson’s sudden and vigorous hand signals.
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