Why does Sherlock Holmes so scared of spiders?
"Well, Watson, why don't you take a good look at what is going on in this little test-tube?" Sherlock Holmes exclaimed excitedly as he peered into the tiny test-tube thingy in his hand.
Watson got up from his seat and made his way over to the famous detective. He observed the golden liquid swimming around in the test-tube. Sherlock Holmes then turned towards a small cup of blood.
"This is the blood of a pig, Watson, so don't look so surprised! Now watch," Holmes snapped as Watson flinched. Careful to hold the test-tube so as to not touch the golden liquid, Holmes poured the content in the test-tube into the cup of blood. After waiting a few seconds, Holmes poured the blood out of the cup and into a small beaker. To Watson's horror, the blood was no longer in liquid form. Instead, it formed a crimson lump.
"Great Scott Holmes! What was that?" Watson gasped.
"That was a curious little poison that caused the death of Dr. Johnny Marshmallow, he was killed while playing with his pet spider," Holmes remarked.
Watson nodded and returned to his reading, thought he can't help but shiver from the thought of the poison.
LATER THAT DAY……………………………………………………………..
"WATSON!" Watson was awoken rudely by a loud yell from the science lab.
"Holmes! What is it?" he asked, dashing into the lab just to find Holmes crawling all over the carpet like a leech looking for something.
"DON'T JUST STAND THERE! HELP ME LOOK FOR IT!" Holmes bellowed. Watson was thoroughly confused.
"The spider is gone!" Holmes yelled in panic. Watson's eyes were like two large diner-plates.
"YES! YOU BUMBLING IDIOT! GONE!"
"How is it gone?"
"AND HOW THE F SHOULD I KNOW?!?"
"But you should have kept an eye on it!"
Holmes let out a yell of rage and impatient.
"JUST HELP ME LOOK FOR IT BEFORE IT KILLS SOMEONE!"
Very soon, our favorite detective and his ahem bumbling idiot ahem was crawling all over the carpet of the peaceful apartment of Baker Street.
"Careful, Watson, this little devil is poisonous!" Holmes said in a nervous sing-song voice. Watson snorted. Like as if he needed telling. Suddenly, Watson spotted it. It was on the sofa, its eight devilish eyes fixed upon the two.
"Holmes-" Watson began but was cut short by Holmes' grunt of pain as he hit his head upon the desk.
"Stupid desk!" Holmes cursed as he continued crawling his way across the carpet.
"I think I found it!" Watson snapped as Holmes crawled underneath a drawer. There was another grunt of pain as Holmes hit his head again.
"Good, Watson, simply brilliant, now help me find the others."
"There are three in all, Watson."
"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!?! DO I NEED TO REPEAT MYSELF!?! THREE! YOU IDIOT!"
"Fine! No need to yell at me!" Watson hissed. He picked up the spider with a spoon and popped it back into a jar.
"WATSON! ANOTHER ONE! HERE! IN YOUR TEA CUP!" Holmes yelled excitedly as he pointed to Watson's cup. Sure enough, another one of the spooky black spider was in the cup. Watson grabbed the cup and poured the content into the jar, both the spider and the remaining tea leaves.
"Two down, one last to go," Watson said in relief. After a few minutes, Holmes came back with the last one clasped in a spatula.
"There! And now we are safe from these things," Holmes said, satisfied. Watson watched as the three spiders scurried about in the jar.
"Now, Watson, please put the jar back onto the chair," Holmes said tiredly.
"Sure! And there I would put i-oops?" Watson said as he walked, and stumbled over a chair, the jar of spiders went flying.
"Sorry, Holmes," Watson sighed, unconcerned until he saw the jar of spiders landed, well, directly on………….Yes! Holmes!
There was a yell and a splinter of crashing glass as the jar broke, spilling its deadly content (uh-oh) over Holmes.
"WHAT THE ?!?"
"Holmes! Stay still!"
"WATSON! YOU OLD FOOL! YOU SPILLED THE FREAKING JAR OF SPIDERS ON ME?!?! WHAT THE $!" Holmes bellowed, and finally, he stopped dead. Settle right on his nose was a spider.
"Holmes! Stay still! There is a spider on your nose! Another on your head and another on your shoulder!" Watson whispered urgently.
"Watson! Quick! Hurry! I think it is going to bite!" Holmes hissed, trying not to move. Watson grabbed the nearest weapon he could see...a poker.
I am not kidding. A fire poker.
"Holmes, stay still!" Watson said in a soothing voice.
"Okay, here goes."
Watson slapped at the spider on Holmes' shoulder, but the spider was too smart for that. Instead of squishing the spider, Watson smacked Holmes pretty hard. The spider scurried off into Holmes' shirt
"Um, Watson, what is that tickling feeling down my back?" Holmes asked nervously.
"Okay, I will tell you, mate, but don't get too angry. It is, um, the spider," Watson said, equally nervous.
"The spider? Oh!" Holmes said, looking relief, and then it dawned on him.
"Holmes!" Watson tried to calm his friend down but saw that it was no longer effective as he watched Holmes danced around the living room, sending the two other spiders flying around, one landed in Holmes' cup and another in the fire-place.
"AHH! WATSON! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!" (Kinda like the part in Shrek 2 when Puss in boots scurried into shrek's pants).
"OKAY! STAY STILL!"
It was hard, as Holmes stared rolling on the ground like a spring roll in a pan of hot oil. He got up, danced around the room, scratched himself on the back like a monkey covered in fleas, rolled on the floor again, jumped from the sofa and landed on his back, hopped around, crashing into several furniture, and sending papers flying every where.
Finally, the spider appeared, crawling out of Holmes' shirt and onto his hair. Watson grabbed a piece of paper nearby and squished the spider into a lump of goo. It was then Holmes let out a sigh of relief, until he felt the back of his head. It was covered in spider goo.
"It is alright, Holmes, you can wash it off later, but I got good news and bad news," Watson said nervously.
"Fine, tell the good news first," Holmes snapped.
"The good news is that the spiders are no longer with us," Watson said proudly.
"And the bad news?"
"So is Miss Irene Adler."
Holmes swirled around.
"What do you mean?"
"I, um, err, squished the spider with her photograph," Watson said with a giggle, showing Holmes the once beautiful face of Irene Adler now covered in spider goo. Holmes let out a groan of disgust and anger.