Let me now jump into christening this new column-Hop on Board! Henceforth I will bring you information that may be new to some. But mystery is the companion of adventure...
There was a chap in the East End who's satisfaction in life was to burgle all dressed as a woman. To this soul, there was nothing finer than filling his frilly pantaloons with oddities, curiosities and various trinkets. He was known in his neighbourhood for the glazed look of contentment ever present upon his shiny but insanely sad face-
Holmes and Watson are nursing pints in The Dolly Dagger, old Pete Chomsky's place.
Watson
Man, am I gettin' sick of this shite, one week we got the fuckin' hound guy. From Baskerville or some shit-next we got your fuckin dealer comin round for pounds-
Holmes
Lay off, you think this shit is easy. Elementary it ain't, hardon! Why dont you buzz off?
Watson
Blimey- if thats the way you feel, find yourself another assistant!
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