All language subtitles for Holmes.and.Watson.2018.INTERNAL.HDR.2160p.WEB.H265-DEFLATE ~ 9.0 GB

The legend
of Sherlock Holmes

begins on his first day
of school.

To us, he is the
greatest detective
of all time,

but back then,
he was just...

Well, the new kid.

But, Mother,
I don't need school.
I've got books.

Sherlock.

You need to be
with other kids.

Have friends,
play games,
kiss a girl.

Open your heart, Sherlock,

and the world will
open itself to you.

All right, Mother.

Everything will be fine.

But things
were not going to be fine.
Not fine at all.

Mother, as usual,
was mistaken.

We can do this.

Look, the new kid.

He looks poor!
Hello.

My name is Sherlock Holmes,
and I'm looking forward

to being friends
with each and every one...

Get him!
What?

School was not easy
for Sherlock.

He was picked on constantly.

- They were relentless.
- He's weird!

What kind of
stupid dog is this?

No!

As time passed,
young Sherlock remained alone,

keeping mostly to himself.

His spirits had dampened,
but his heart was still alive.

A beautiful girl

has captured my heart.

Her name is Bridgette.

I am overcome
with such true feelings
and emotions.

- She is the moon...
- Hey, Sherlock.

Look, Sherlock,
we feel bad.

We've been awfully naughty
with you.

Would you like to kiss
Bridgette over there?

She wants to kiss you.

How about it, Sherlock?
She wants to kiss me?

She told me this morning.

I should like that
an awful lot.

Put this on, then.

A blindfold?

This is how everyone kisses.

Uh, is it? Are you sure
she wants to kiss me?

'Course she does.

She's really shy.

Oh, Sherlock,
how I've dreamed
of this moment.

Now lean in for your kiss.

He kissed
a donkey's ass!

Look at his face!

Oh, he's gonna cry,
isn't he?
He likes you!

Here comes the waterworks!

Cry! Cry! Cry!

Cry! Cry! Cry!

His heart
had betrayed him.

And so, from that day forward,

he vowed he would lock away
all feelings.

He would become
a thinking machine,

an unfeeling automaton.

What's he doing?

He's un-crying?

Without
the confusion of feelings,

without emotions
to distract him,

he could devote
his entire brain...

...to solving crimes,
his greatest passion.

The ink on your right hand,
that's the headmaster's
brand of ink,

which means you went
into his desk for
the answers on his test.

Expelled!

And, Thulby, the dirt
on your boots
is freshly dried clay,

which means you snuck
off the grounds.
Oh, shite.

Expelled!

And I smell alcohol

on your breath, Jane.

And, Seamus, you've got
a bruise on your neck

that fits the radius
of a girl's mouth.

But I'm in love.

And those are tobacco stains
on your fingers, Nancy.

Expelled!

And I shall have
you all expelled!

Expelled, expelled, expelled!

The big kids
can be jerks here.
Hmm.

Judging by your smell
of vinegar and sawdust,

you are the
janitor's son.

But someday,
you're going
to be a doctor.

Really?

It's elementary,
my dear...
What's your name?

John Watson.
Sherlock Holmes.

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I have to go learn.

The circumference of a cone

is a direct ratio
of the circular...

And so every
professor at the school

dedicated themselves solely

to teaching the young
Sherlock Holmes.

...Martin Luther's Reformation
was actually the first...

His mind was transformed

from an unrefined hunk of gold

to a razor-sharp diamond.

Square root of pi.

1492.

From the novel...

Magnesium sulfate. Plato.

The fulcrum is insufficient.

Good answer.

Questions?
Next lesson.

Extra! Extra!
Read all about it!

Moriarty's crime spree over!

Professor James Moriarty
faces justice today!

The Napoleon of crime
on trial!

Greatest criminal
in the empire!

That's fake news.

Stop this trial at once!

I, Sherlock Holmes,

have solved the case
of Professor James Moriarty.

Wonderful.
Wonderful, Holmes.

A dramatic entrance worthy
of your greatest achievement.

Watson, did you
notice my emphasis

on "Professor James Moriarty"?

Yes, with the finger, yes.

Much better than the hand.
Yes.

Instead of the karate chop,
I went to the index finger.

Yes, it's the best one yet.

This is the moment
everyone's been waiting for.
Right here.

Yes, and they're literally
waiting for it now.

Oh, yes.
You must get dressed.

Yes?
Very well.

There we are.
There are your things.

Remember,
trial of the century.
Yes.

We have but...
Oh, let's see now.

Just 16 minutes left, Holmes.

Professor James Moriarty.

You have been the organizer
of half that is evil

and all that goes undetected
in this great city.

Today, you are charged
with murder
in the first degree,

but all the witnesses
have died.

Without said witnesses,
I have no choice
but to set you free.

Inspector Lestrade,

you simply must take
better care of your witnesses.

Mark my words,

Sherlock Holmes
is on his way
and, with him,

the evidence
that will damn you
to the noose.

Then we should all pray
he arrives soon,
for, on the strike of noon,

I shall have to release
this menace.

Sherlock will be here.

He is about to burst
through those doors
right now.

- Nearly there?
- Nearly there.

A sniff of morning cocaine
always helps the brain. Ah!

Come now, Sherlock.

We mustn't let
that trial conclude.

For this occasion,
I have selected a new hat.

From now on, when people utter
the name "Sherlock Holmes,"

they will picture this.

Brilliant. Can we go?

Your furrowed brow
betrays your lying lips.

Oh, no.

Not to worry.

Ta-da!

Hey, there, cowboy.

That's the one.
That's the one.
Bang, bang.

We should leave, yes?

Oh!
Aye, aye.

I say, I like that one
very much.

You don't want to be late,
Mr. Holmes.

Mrs. Hudson,
what do you think
of this one?

Me? I'm just a housekeeper
from the Glasgow slums.

The likes of me telling
the likes of you
what to put on his noggin?

Good point.

Back to your monkey work,
Hudson.

Perfect, right?
May I show you
a few more hats?

No!
Someone's left a wee box.

What are you
going on about?

I never even heard
anyone knocking.
Did you hear anything?

How very queer.

- Queerer and queerer.
- Hmm.

Very odd.

Watson, no.

Holmes, why are you
getting so exercised?

It's merely an empty box.

Watson,
this is sent from Moriarty.

He means to kill us.

Listen.

Shut that window.

If this winged menace escapes,
it may cause a pandemic.

A killer mosquito?

The insect is infected
with African plague.

One bite means death.

Now, dance a Dutch jig.

You don't have
to ask me twice
to do a Dutch jig, but why?

Your body heat
will attract him
to dine on your flesh.

Brilliant.

Hold! Don't move.

Where is it?
Right there.

There. Right there
on your forehead.

Kill it, Holmes.
I'm going to kill it.

There it is.
Where?

Hold, hold. No, no.
Where?

No, hold, hold.

Is it biting?

I hear it.

I see it.

The tip!

Don't worry, boys.
I brought a net.

Upon the lowering
of my gavel,

the charges
shall be dismissed.

I shall raise
my gavel in the air

and then bring it
down briskly,

making a satisfying bang,

at which point the prisoner
shall go free.

Angle of approach.

Compensate for warp in floor.

Count for resistance
due to dust motes.

Probable outcome,

termination of mosquito.

Integrity of bee habitat
maintained.

Deadly bee swarm averted.

The mosquito's vanquished.

Well done, Holmes.

It's a simple matter
of geometry,
entomology and physics.

Oh, my God!
Oh, shit.

Watson! Stop panicking!
We can disable the queen.

It's making them angry,
Holmes!

Oh, my God.
What are they doing?

They're turning this way!

Just do anything!
Help me!

It's working!

It's not working!

Get it off!
It's not working!

Holmes, we retreat.

Run for safety.
I'll lead them away.

Stop this trial!

May I present to you
the greatest detective
of all time,

solver of the unsolvable,
untier of Gordian knots,

bester of conundrums,
the great Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock! Sherlock! Sherlock!

Sherlock! Sherlock! Sherlock!

Stop this trial at once!

Thank goodness
you've arrived, Mr. Holmes.

Now, what startling
new evidence
do you have for the court?

I am the evidence.

I recall the day vividly.

I arrived at the
crime scene alone.

Completely and utterly alone.

I meticulously inspected
every nook and cranny
of that study,

hunting for clues,
much like a panther
stalks its prey.

And as I stood there,

I began to employ
a groundbreaking
new technique.

Right there.

Behold! Fingerprints.

Imagine a print
being taken from a finger.

I love it.

How do these prove
Moriarty's guilt?

Watson.

Moriarty would never leave
a trail of clues,

which begs the question,

why was this crime scene

so uncharacteristically
littered with fingerprints?

Good work, Watson.

Thank you. I just thought
of what you might have done.

I compared these prints

to those of the man
standing before you.

A perfect match.

Unequivocal proof
that this man

- is innocent.
- What?

But if those are
Moriarty's prints,

then Moriarty
is the murderer.

This man is not Moriarty.

He sure looks
like Moriarty.

He's an impostor.
His name is Jacob Musgrave.

A complete look-alike,
a doppelganger.

A patsy framed to hang
for Moriarty's crimes,

so that I may abandon
my pursuit of him

and he can begin life
anew in America.

Why would an innocent man
agree to hang
for Moriarty's crimes?

Elementary.
This man is terminally ill.

Look at him.
His pallid complexion.

The palsy in his left hand.

Wait. I know.
He's an onanist.

Yes, of the most
enthusiastic kind.

What's an onanist?

He... Let's see.

He pours his own tea.

He likes to create
his own sauce.

- He is a saucier.
- Huh?

And the name of his restaurant
is Crotch Kitchen.

On a daily basis,
he creams his own eclair.

He is Romeo and Juliet.

That should do it.

- This here.
- Oh, he's a wanker.

Thank you.

Sorry, ladies.

This chap here
had nothing to lose
by being executed.

He was literally dying
by his own hand.

It causes death, you see.

The infallible Sherlock Holmes
has indeed spoken.

In light of his testimony,
I order the release
of the suspect.

What? This is an outrage!
Do not let this murderer free.

Bang, bang, bang!
Court is adjourned.

Sherlock Holmes
has done it again!

Why are you cheering?

Sherlock!

Sherlock! Sherlock! Sherlock!

That couldn't
have gone better.

It couldn't have.

And I tell you,
that case was rather...

It took us three years
to catch him.

If we release him now,
we may never find him again.

Put aside your ego
and admit I am right.

I am afraid Moriarty's
long gone to America.

Whatever crimes Moriarty
commits from now on

are on your head.

I quite like
seeing Lestrade upset.

Yeah. I do, too.

Professor James Moriarty
fled to the Americas

and would never darken
England again.

Holmes.

Are you upset?

It's just that Moriarty
was the whetstone

upon which I sharpened
my mental blade.

With him gone,
not there to challenge me,
why go on?

Instead, I shall occupy
my great, great mind

with nutritional science.

My research suggests

that the sulfurous compounds
of the common onion

can increase
your red blood cells.

Vital for human health.

Just bite it
like an apple, eh?
Mmm-hmm.

Definitely takes
four or five bites.

Are we meant to eat
the whole thing?

The whole thing.

Let the juice slither
down the back of your throat.

Congratulations, Holmes.

You're not only
the smartest man in London,

you shall soon be
the healthiest.

Indeed.

Now, where's my opium?

Um...

Mrs. Hudson!

Hudson!
Hudson!

Help!

Hudson, Watson has stuck
a carrot up my bum!

Hudson, help!

Fire! Fire!
Call the police!

Hudson, your mother has died!

You brain-dead bag of bones!

Hudson!
Hudson!

Hudson!

Hudson, where are you?

Uh...

Did you not hear
any of that?

We screamed "fire."
Where?

And we were screaming
your name.

You were just there
in my bedroom?

Oh.

Shut up.
Come on.

No wonder my room
always smells
like fish pie and swamp.

This came for you.

Hmm.

Sealed by hands
unused to manual labor.

Hmm.

Hmm.

Saliva from a
protein-rich diet
of chicken kidneys.

Why, Watson,
it's from the Queen.

Huh.

Seems Her Majesty
requests my services.

A crime that has baffled
even her closest advisors,

and only my singular intellect
can solve it.

Well, well, well,

look who's back
in the game.

Watson,
are you all right?

I'm just very nervous.

I've not met the Queen before.

Deep breath.
Your Majesty,

Sherlock Holmes
and Dr. John Watson.

My God, it's really her.

Shh.

Watson.

Say something.

I love you.

I know I am duty-bound
to serve you,

but let me just say,
on a personal note,

- I really like you.
- Stop touching her.

Just as a fan.

Please, sir.

Don't touch the Queen.

Oh!

Quite right.

Sorry, Your Majesty.

You look a lot smaller
in person.

Just stop. Just stop.
Sorry. It's true.

Just stop talking.

Yes.
Stop talking.

I'm crazy about your look.

What did I say?

Am I still talking out loud?
You are. You are.

It's just the Queen.
Yes.

- Okay?
- Okay.

Your Majesty,

how may we be
of service to the realm?

Mr. Holmes,
pray follow us.

There is danger about.

What a looker, right?

She is stunning in person.

Fear not, Your Majesty,

Sherlock will allow no harm
to come to you,
and neither will I.

Five, four, three,

two, one.

Surprise!

Thank you.
Thank you.

Had I been a non-genius
such as yourselves,

there's a 72% chance
I would have been surprised.

Oh! 72%.

Happy birthday,
Sherlock Holmes.

We wish you well
and thank you
for your many years...

Your many years
of public service.

So, Holmes.
Yes.

When did you know?

Tuesday.

Really?

You were
seven minutes late
coming home.

Stopped
at the stationer's,

confirmed by the scent
of paper mulch.

You have the nose
of a bloodhound.

Your mustache betrayed
a dusting of crumbs.

Evidence of cake sampling.

Guilty.

And you purchased a case
of pre-phylloxera champagne.

You lack the self-esteem
to buy yourself
such an extravagant bottle.

It's true.

I don't deserve nice things.

Bravo.

Thank you.

That was delightful.

Oh, a layer cake.

It's shaped
like a magnifying glass.

Yes!

The second layer
is rather thick.

There must be a few nuts
in there. Uh, if I may.

Would you mind?
Here. Yes, of course.

Do you see
what I'm talking about?

Yes.
Yes.

Ah. Raspberry jam.

Mmm. My weakness.

I know what I need.

What the...
He's getting an ax!

Brilliant.
Charge!

Oh!

Stand back.
Back, everyone, I say.

A murder
in Buckingham Palace.

Look, a note. There.

Right under your nose.

"A birthday present for you,
Sherlock.

"A crime to challenge
your wits.

"Stop me in four days' time,

"or I will destroy London's
greatest marvel
and kill the Queen,

"and I will rewrite history."

Signed
"Professor James Moriarty."

Hmm.

This is Jimmy Gruber,

the witness who disappeared,

whose testimony prompted
Moriarty's arrest

and whom Moriarty
swore to kill.

And your conclusion?

That Moriarty
has killed again,
as I predicted.

Ah. The most
obvious conclusion.

No, this is definitely
the work

of someone who is going
to extraordinary lengths

to make it appear
as if Moriarty committed
these crimes.

- Sherlock Holmes.
- The Queen.

We charge you with the task
of stopping this criminal

before he can do us harm.

Solve this case on behalf
of your queen and country.

I will.
We will.

But, Your Majesty...

Sherlock Holmes
has never failed us.

The bold ingenuity
of this crime

calls me back
to the profession

of detecting
like a siren song.

I won't let
anyone hurt you.

Watson. To the morgue.

Lestrade,
clean this mess up now.

The game is a-starting.
Yeah.

Who is this copycat
pretending to be Moriarty?

Finally, a problem
worthy of my brain.

This birthday cake
is delicious.

Did you get a chance
to try it?

No, there was a corpse in it.
Oh.

Watson?

Oh.

Oh, my goodness.

Oh.

Finders keepers.

Yeah.

Are you sure you wouldn't
rather wait out here?

The last time you were
in the morgue, you...

Watson, I am a man
of stout constitution.

Yes, of course.
I just thought,
after the last time,

with the...

And the...

Merely a bout
of stomach influenza.

Yes, but the time
before that?

Bad clams.
And before that?

I shook hands
with a prostitute.

Yes.

No, no.
Put that away.

I'm not some vaporous,
giggling, fainting maiden
who...

Oh, ye of little...

It's nothing
to be ashamed of.

I think I'm starting
to feel a bit...

I wouldn't...

Are you...
No, no, I'm fine. I'm fine.

'Cause if you start
to feel sick,
then I'll start to feel...

Surely, I must be done.
Yes.

Next to impossible to still...

There you are.

All done.
Yes, there.

Would you like some water?
Did you say water...

Sorry. I'm sorry.

Shall we begin
the autopsy?

Oh, thank goodness
these cleaning women are here

to clean up this
dreadful mess.

Someone's made sick.
Oh.

My dear Watson,
these women

are far too well-dressed
to be cleaning women.

They're here to identify
their well-to-do
husbands' bodies.

Sorry for your loss.

Thank you,
but I am the doctor.

Look, Watson,
grief has scrambled
her brain.

Mmm.
She thinks she's a doctor.

Fortunately, Miss,
there's a real doctor here

who may help you.

Would you like
some heroin?

Dr. Watson, I presume.

And you must be
Sherlock Holmes.

Dr. Grace Hart of Boston.

A woman doctor?

- What times we live in.
- Yes.

In America,
we're much more
progressive.

I now make 30 cents
for every dollar
a man earns.

What does "doctor" mean
in America?

It means "doctor."

You're Dr. G. Hart?

Of Boston?
Yes.

Holmes,
we're in the presence
of a pioneer.

Dr. Hart's work with the use
of electroshock therapy

to cure female hysteria
is groundbreaking.

Yes, I proved the higher
the voltage, the more
demons are released.

Well, of course.

Some of my patients live
as long as a week.

"Doctor"?
Spelled D-O-C-T-O-R?

Yes.

This is my aide,
Millicent.

She's very shy,
but a wonderful
traveling companion.

Shall we proceed
to the examination?

Please.
Our cadaver awaits.

No, no, no.

Here.

Mr. Holmes,
you look rather unwell.

Perhaps you would
rather stay here
and keep Millicent company.

Sherlock Holmes.

Charmed to meet...

To meet you.

Millicent
is the subject
of my research.

She was raised
by feral cats.

She has the mental capacity
of a four-year-old,

but it is my belief that,
with sufficient
electroshock therapy,

she can achieve
the intellect
of a six-year-old.

We are truly
in the golden age
of medicine.

There's nothing
left to learn.

No.

What a creature you are.

You're devouring that onion
with such passion.

It's strangely arousing.

Dr. Watson,
I have always been taken

by your unwavering devotion
to Mr. Holmes,

but haven't you
ever considered
something more?

Perhaps a co-detective?

He and I?

Co-detectives?

Yes.

Oh, the very idea!

Uh...
Solving crimes together?

Laughing and enjoying
the esprit de corps

of two best friends
pursuing a noble cause!

Madness. No, dear.

No. No, not I.

Not here.

Not even in my most
rapturous moments
of private fantasy.

Anyway, let's go clean
this cake-covered bastard,
shall we?

The wonders
of modern medicine.

Now, you're going to laugh,

but I found the most
important tool
of an autopsy is...

Music.

Yes.

You, too?

This one always gets me
in the mood.

So begins the dance.

You have some dribble.
Hmm?

Just a touch
of dribble right...

There is something so sensual
about forensic autopsy,
isn't there?

You are a delight.

Your eyes say more
than words ever could.

Hmm.

The tincture of ammonia
and scrotum.

Hello, Inspector Lestrade.

We have combed
the manifests

of every ship to set sail
for the Americas

and found
not a single Moriarty.

Moriarty's too cunning
to use his own name.

He's sailing
under an alias.

Ah, here we are.

So, after a thorough...

Very thorough.

Stop.
No, you stop.

Examination of the body...

And I must say,
Dr. Hart made some

beautiful lateral
incisions there.

No, watching you flay the skin
from his face so gently!

I would flay
1,000 faces for you.
And the way...

Just tell me what you found!

Yes.

Cause of death
indeterminate.

Indeterminate?

What do you mean?

It means he doesn't know.

- Proceed, Watson.
- Yes.

We found a freshly applied
tattoo of a cross

and the numbers one and 20.

I have the oddest feeling.

It's like knowing,
but the opposite.

Meaning you haven't a clue.

Who is this genius pretender
who's taken Moriarty's place,

committing crimes
exactly the way
he would?

A fantastic new case.

I'm aroused
both mentally and physically.

I was wondering,
rather than working
beside you on this case,

I might work with you
as a sort of...

Grace called it
a "co-detective."

One cannot simply just
make someone a detective.

It must be earned.

Well, I deduced
you might say that,

which is why,
when we arrive home,

I propose a game of chess.

If I should best you,

then surely I possess
the mental power...

Checkmate! Checkmate.

What?
We haven't started yet.

You would have opened
with the Queen's Gambit.

Oh, indeed.
A reliable first move.

I would have countered
with a Slav Defense.

Oh! An audacious move.
Quite unexpected.

You would have panicked,
thus exposing your queen.

No, not my queen!

Seeing your queen exposed

would have compelled you
to defend her.

Indeed. It is my duty
in chess as in life.

Thereby neglecting my castle.

Checkmate.

Perhaps another game?

Rock-paper-scissors.

Rock, rock, paper, paper,
scissors, paper,

rock, scissors, paper, rock.

Dash it all!

What about Battleship?

D-3, E-3, F-3,
and G-3.

Damn it,
you've sunk my battleship.

You're a good man,
Watson,

but you're not ready.

But why?

If you were ready,
you'd know why.

Let the game begin.

A piece for a piece.

Two can play
at that game.

Mmm.

Peekaboo.

Ah. Checkmate.

And to the victor,
the spoils.

You'll never be co-detective.

Watson, I'm near
a breakthrough.

My hypothesis
is the true cause of death

is ink poisoning
via the fresh tattoo.

But I need your help.

You want me to be
co-detective?

Mmm-mmm.

I'm awfully sorry,
Dr. Watson.

Sorry for what?

Mr. Holmes left me
no choice.

May you rest in peace.
What's she on about?

All will be clear
in three, two, one.

Excuse me.

I'll take that.

It's just something
caught in my throat.

Oh, no.

I poisoned you.

Why?

To test my theory.

Am I going to die?

No, I have an antidote.

Oh.
But I need
to see it play out.

Now, let's see here.

Redness around
the mouth. Good.

Help me.

You will have temporary
brain damage.

Wake up, Watson. Wake up.

We have work to do.
Watson.

Who's Watson?
I'll kill him!

You son of a bitch!

Violent aggression.

Oh, please give me
the antidote.

Drama queen syndrome.

Why am I doing this?

Confused mime.

Oh! Does this suit
make me look fat?

Body image dysmorphia.

My eyes!

Sensitivity to light.
My eyes! It burns!

Excruciating abdominal pain.

Yes, it's confirmed.

It was poison.
Come, Watson.

Let us not be late.

Oh! Of course.

Lactation.

Why?
Come along, Watson.

I'll explain in the cab.

There we go.

Oh, thank God
for this antidote.

I feel as though
I've completely recovered.

Yes, you have.

There.

So where are we going?

The fact that the victim
was poisoned

suggests the killer lacked
physical strength
to overpower him.

The tattoos you examined
have an uneven quality.

It leads me to believe
that they were drawn
by a one-armed man.

A one-armed man.

Yes.

A weak man
who would use poison.

There is only one
one-armed tattoo artist
in all of London.

The nefarious Gustav Klinger.

Dorset Street!
And don't spare
the horses!

Dorset Street.

Home of drunkards, thieves,
and hairy, old whores.

And, if my theory
is correct, the killer.

Hello, gorgeous.

Though all is calm now,
we must be on highest alert.

Shall we ask someone
if they've seen our
one-armed Mr. Klinger?

This neighborhood
does not welcome
curious outsiders.

Excuse me.
Have you the time?

Not for you, outsider.

Merciful God.

We must blend in.

Fortunately,
my time tripping
the boards

has made me
a master of disguise.

Yes.

You.

What have you done
with Sherlock?

Why, Watson,

I never left.

Amazing.
Yes, I know.

Yes, you've outdone yourself
this time.

Now...

Huh?
No.

Still me.
It's you?

It's still Sherlock.

All right.
Rest assured.

It's very convincing.

Now for your disguise.

Oh, what will it be?

Yes. You, my friend,

shall play a down-on-your-luck
horseshit salesman.

Oh.
Yes.

Yes. Yes.

Come, Watson.
We have a one-armed
killer to catch.

Get into character.

- Horseshit for sale!
- There you go.

Who will buy
my horse's shit?
I'll take some.

No one must know
our true purpose.
Mmm.

What you toffs want?

To buy a pint for any man
who can raise two hands.

Every man has both arms.

Klinger isn't here.

Our journey continues.

Blend in like
a common oaf.
Yes.

Keep drinking.
We need to fit in.

Cheers.

Cheers!

More, more, more!

Oi! Oi! Oi!

They have boxing here.

I don't care
if he's small!

- Kill!
- Come on, fight!

Shouldn't we be looking
for Klinger?

Who cares about Klinger?
Exactly!

Release the child!

Let go of that boy!
I want him dead!

Sweet river of piss.

You have real force there.

Arc of stream.

Direction of wind.

Compensate for shy penis.

Avoid splash on shoes.

And release fluids.

Oh, my goodness.

Damn it, I forgot
to unzip my pants.

You really are a genius.

Oh, watch it.
Oh, sorry.

I should like
to send a telegram.

Grace. Stop.

Are you awake? Stop.

Uh, you're such
a pretty doctor lady.

Ooh!

Are you quite sure
this is a good idea?

This is wonderful.

The combination
of the late hour
and your drunkenness

allows for communication
of exceptional honesty.

Quite right.

I will call it an intoxigram.

And no one shall ever
regret sending one.

Now, lay bare the fruits
of your inebriation.

Ask her what she's wearing.

What are you wearing?
Stop.

"What are you wearing?"

Bloomers?

Probably.
What color? Stop.

A brassiere?

I'd wager you'd look good
in anything.

Wonderful.
Stop.

Shall I ask what Millie
thinks about you?

Um...

I don't care.
Sure. Why not?

What does Millie
think of Sherlock?

Does Millie ever drip wax
over her body?

Hot wax. Stop.

- Okay. That's enough.
- Yeah, I think so.

Now show her how she
makes you feel. Huh?

Just go ahead.
Display it.

There.

Telegraph a picture of this.

And make sure you get
the banger and the beans.

Focus on the mushroom.

Are you positive
I shan't regret this
in the morning?

You absolutely will.

Silence, you!
Say it again.

Say it again.
I dare you.
Oh!

Please say it.
Please say it again.

Do you think you would be
the first man I've killed?

I have the penis
of a baby doll.

It's just a statement of fact.

Oh, well, Watson,

after a night of drinking,
I could eat a whole pie.

Oh, no,
it's cakes for me,
my friend.

Ah! Cakes, indeed!

Yes. Yes,
cakes stacked on cakes.

We should open
a restaurant called

the International House
of Cakes Stacked Upon
Other Cakes.

Yes, and you can
only eat there after a night
of drinking.

Well, speaking of the night,
I fear it's a night wasted.

No sign of Klinger
anywhere.
Mmm.

Not so fast, Watson.

Look at those two men
and their tattoos.

I don't understand.

We haven't been able
to find the tattoo artist.

Perhaps we should
follow the tattoos.

A gymnasium?

You really think Klinger
would be here, Holmes?

Look alive, Watson.
He could be anywhere.

Three, two, one.

Pick it up. Pick it up.
That's it.

Out with the bad air,
in with the good.

Look at these
health nuts.

Big deep breath.

Obsessed with
the purifying effects
of smoke.

All right,
good lungful
of the cleansing vapors.

I don't think
he's here, Holmes.

Hello, hello, hello!

Sherlock Holmes.

Ah.

You must be Gustav Klinger,

the one-armed
tattoo artist
of Dorset Street.

Looks like it.

Gustav Klinger,
I accuse you of poisoning
Jimmy Gruber

and baking him
into a large cake.

A deliciously large cake
that I baked myself.

Oh, please.

How dare you!

You did not bake
that cake.

Not only did I bake it.
I decorated it, too.

Impossible.

It's got
a frosting attachment.

You're trying to tell me

that a one-armed man made
a professional,
bakery-quality cake

fit for the Queen.
Watson.

It's just... It...
It doesn't matter

if he baked the cake or not.
It really bugs... I know.

It really...
Best cake
I've ever eaten.

I did bake the cake.
All right, fine.

You "baked the cake."

I didn't "bake a cake."

I baked a cake.

Then you admit it.

You killed Jimmy Gruber.

And what if I did,
Mr. Holmes?

It's not as if
you're in a position
to do anything about it.

He's right,
Sherlock Holmes.

You've walked
straight into our trap.

Moriarty.
Quiet, Watson.

In the name of the queen,
I arrest you both.

Oh, come, Sherlock.

You don't think
it'll be that easy.

You won't be
leaving here alive,
Mr. Holmes,

unless, of course, you fight
your way out of the Hexagon.

Where are you pointing?

There.

This way or that way?

There.

- Oh.
- The Hexagon.

But I won't fight
a one-armed man.

Oh, no. I've got this,
Sherlock.

It won't be the first time
I've fought a cripple.

Oh, uh...

You won't be
fighting me.

Nah, nah, nah.

You're fighting my mate.

Meet Brawn.

Oh, come on.

Well, I call bullshit.

I fear it might be suicide
to fight this man.

I think it's mostly
psychological.

I'm psychologically
scared shitless right now.

Fight! Fight! Fight!

Okay. Okay.

But if you want
to watch this fight,
you have to pay.

You have to pay to view it.

This is a
pay-to-view-it fight.

Yes, I know
it seems a bit unfair,

but if you split it
among a few friends

and buy some beers,
some pizza,

it could be a fun thing to do
with the guys.

It's time!

Let's get ready to scuffle!

Scuffle! Scuffle! Scuffle!

Nice!

What is she doing here?

It's 6:00 in the morning.

Holmes,
I don't know why...

Yes.
...but that really
jacked me up.

Ah!
I think I might
stand a chance.

It reminds me of Istanbul.

Exactly. And what
did I beat in Istanbul?

Syphilis!
Syphilis! Exactly.

Go get him.
All right.

Come on!

"Come on"?
You come on!

You!

You mountain of flesh.

Your turn, Mr. Holmes!

Yes, I know.
Of course I'm next.

Opponent, 350 pounds.

Use pipe.

Create diversion
to distract his gaze.

Plan of attack,

surprise first blow
to center of mass.

Gracefully dodge counterpunch.

Employ visual impairment.

Easily duck wild swing.

Utilize Tibetan
ototoxic method

to disrupt his balance.

Grab facial hair.

Use for leverage.

Okinawan beard flip.

Enemy incapacitated.

Catch pipe.

Revel in crowd's adulation.

Oh, no.

Good show, Watson.

Thank you, Holmes.

Break his pelvis.

Go! Again!

Club him like a baby seal.

What have I done?
No, you're fine.

Okay.
Now,

tell us everything you know
about the plot to kill
the Queen.

All right.

I'll tell you
everything I know.

I've been stabbed
in the back.

Meaning? Oh.

Metaphorically speaking, yes.

No, I've literally
been stabbed in the back...

Holmes, he's escaping.

So Moriarty
is in England.

Watson.
Does it look like Moriarty

now?

Who is this?

Jacob Musgrave,

as I've been saying
all along.

A man who looks
so much like Moriarty,

a simple beard
fooled almost everyone.

All right,
I admit it.

I am no Moriarty.

My name is Musgrave,

just like he says.

- Wow.
- Who put you up to this?

Oh, they've been
leaving me notes
telling me what to do.

I don't know who it is.

I swear,
I'm just a simple wanker.

He's telling the truth,
Watson.

This morally
deficient creature,

this awful, awful excuse
for a man, this...

Bag of rubbish.
Yes, good one, Watson. Yes.

Come on, guys. I'm dying.

These are the wages
of wanking, you see?

Wait, wait, wait.
What?

Just a...

Don't wank on us.

A coal.

Said you were
to take it to Newcastle.

- A lump of coal?
- Yeah.

To Newcastle?

Newcastle by the river?

Perhaps this clue
will lead us
to the real mastermind.

Time is running out.

We must save the Queen.

Good luck to you.

Bring these coals
to Newcastle.

Coals.

Coals. "Sherlock."

"Three days until I rewrite
history and kill the queen."

Millicent is the
subject of my research.

Coals to Newcastle.

Talking to you,
it's as if our brains
are sharing a tandem bicycle.

She has the
mental capacity of...

Now you have
but three days...

Bring these coals
to Newcastle.

Uh... Oh.

Good morning, Sherlock.

What's happened?
Well, I'm...

I'm trying to untangle
this baffling clue.

Ah.

Ever since I met Millie,
my mind is muddled.

Do you suppose
she's infected me

with some sort of a disease?

Disease?

My heart races.

My palms sweat.

I have all these feelings.

Holmes,
get a hold of yourself.
You're not sick.

You're in love.

Love? Horseradish!

I'm a man of logic.

There's nothing
to be ashamed of.

In fact, I, too,
have been taken
by this malady called love.

Grace has asked me
to call upon her.

Apparently,

I sent her quite the charming
telegram last night.

Watson, you've cracked it.

Have I? Co-detective?

Think, Watson.
Uh...

Is there a single
logical reason

for Grace to want
to seek your company?

Romantic interest?

No.
My eyes?

It's all a ruse.

Moriarty escapes
to America,

and then these two
American women show up?

Sorry, you're saying
Grace is the killer?

Of course
she's not the killer.
She's an American.

She would have used a gun.
Ah. Hmm.

No, Grace is working
for the killer.

Oh.

We shall seduce her,

and that will lead us
to the murderer.

Mmm-hmm.

Yes.

Who could that be
at this early hour?

Enter.

Her Majesty.

Have you come to see me?

Mr. Holmes, I have
but two days left to live

unless you can
solve this case.

My queen, do come in.

I shall speak
with Mr. Holmes
in private.

Your Majesty.

You'll be happy to know

that, just this morning
we discovered a new clue.

This chunk of coal.

What does it mean?

It's quite a mystery.

Is this going
to be a problem?

Watson.

Perhaps the Queen
would enjoy some tea.

Oh, yes, of course.

Mr. Holmes, the empire
is depending on you.

Your Majesty,
I now suspect
two American women

are somehow
involved in this plot.

Sorry.

Your Majesty,

do you think I could have
a picture of us together?

But who is going to take
the photograph?

Oh, no,
I'll take the photograph.

You see, it's a type
of a self-photograph.

I can take it,
and I will be in it also.

You know what?
I find, to take the most
attractive photographs,

you need to purse
your lips together

like a duck-billed platypus.

Platypus face.
Chins up.

Hey.
Hey. Hey, girl.

You know, maybe over
by the window.

The lighting's
much better there.
Yes, yes, capital idea.

- Oh, God. Ma'am, ma'am.
- Oh! Oh!

Ma'am! Your Majesty.

Oh, ma'am. Ma'am.

Oh, dear.

Tell me, Watson.

She's dead.

Dear God.

We've killed the Queen.

Are you all right,
Your Majesty?

Yes.

Yes, I'm all right.
Are you sure?

Yes, I'm quite fine.

My lover, John Watson,
will take good care of me.

Why did you want
that photograph?

I didn't want the photograph.

What are you talking about?

Mr. Holmes? Dr. Watson?

I'm very, very safe.

She's so dead.
She's so dead.

- I know.
- Okay.

We'll shove her down
the toilet

as if she was never here,
and we'll deny
ever seeing her.

Right. Excellent.

Come on.
Come up.

Here we are.
Into the bathroom.

Mr. Holmes. Dr. Watson.

What was the big bang?

We must buy some time.

Right.
Let's get her to the door.

Open this door!
Wait.

Hello. What do you want?

Ma'am, are you all right?

Yes, of course I'm fine.
Can't you see?

Yes, of course, ma'am.
I'm so sorry.

We've got it
from here, boys.
Thank you.

- We're good.
- Yes, sir.

The trunk.
Yes.

Yes, we'll mail her to Africa.

Come on, ma'am.
Sorry.

There we go.

Stuff her in there.

Really thrust.

Good. Good.

Good. Good.

- Hold on, Watson.
- Come on, boys.

Open the door!

Mr. Holmes. Dr. Watson.

One, two, three.
Watch your fingers.

Open this door immediately!

This is bad.

You know what we must do.

Grab your toolbox.

Let me in!
I'm breaking down
the door!

Bone saw.
Bone saw.

Oh, God.
Come on! Push!
Come on, together!

Watson, toilet-sized chunks.

Put your back into it!

Good God!

What have you done?

Platypus lips.

Can you send me a copy
of the self-photograph?

Absolutely.

It will arrive
at the palace
in about a week.

Gentlemen,

you have two days
to stop this killer.

Yes, ma'am.

God save the Queen.

What a perfect day
for a picnic at London's
greatest spectacle,

the Anglo-American
Exhibition.

A celebration of that
special relationship

between our nation
and yours.

Yes, such a special
relationship

between these two nations,

although I could never live

in a country
with an unelected ruler

like the Queen.

Why ever not?

In America,
we have democracy.

Our president is a person
our people have all chosen.

Mmm.

An assurance that only
the finest and most qualified
man will lead,

not a wealthy tyrant
who cares for nothing
but himself.

But you have
the electoral college,
which surely will prevent

some trumped-up charlatan
from gaining power.

Not always, unfortunately.

It would be great
to have a strong businessman.

But a showman as well.

I love a good show.

America.

We gave you your freedom,
and now look
what you've done with it.

London's spectacle...

Remember, Watson.

Relax them with small talk,
then begin the seduction.

I must say, she doesn't look

like she could be
an accessory to murder.

Well, looks can be deceiving.

Remember,
we're here to seduce.

These physical displays
of strength
will enchant them.

Ah.

I could use
a bit of cocaine.

Did you bring
a vial with you?

Very good.

Are you all right?
I'm... I'm exhausted.

There is one test
I can employ

to prove she truly is
who she says she is.

Then do it, Holmes.

Employ your last test.
I simply must know.

Help!
John?

- This man has been taken ill.
- What?

Oh!

Let me see.

If only there were
a doctor present.

Clearly, he's had
a severe blow
to his occipital bone.

He's concussed.

And I am a doctor.
A doctor?

A woman doctor.
What times we live in.

Could it be?

Is Grace truly a doctor?

Are her feelings
of affection genuine?

Then she's innocent.

Watson, get up.

We need to go
see my brother.

I love you, Grace.
Oh!

The legendary
Diogenes Men's Club.

Home of London's
most awkward gentlemen

and my brother.

Holmes.
Mmm.

I can't believe
you have a brother.

Yes, but we're nothing alike.

He's an arrogant man
who never appreciates

the people around him.

Follow me. Here.

Well, well, well.

So you are finally seeking
your brother's help.

I must say, I'm not surprised.

And this vague assembly
of limbs and fatty tissue,

I assume, is Dr. Watson.

Mmm.

So shall I get us started?

Watson, please.

We're in the middle
of a conversation.

Can't you see?

When the two most
brilliant minds
in all of England

have a fraternal bond,

words are an inefficiency.

We communicate
without words, silently,

from giant brain
to gianter brain.

Of course.

I'll join in as I see fit.

I can spare
a few minutes
to solve your little mystery

and help quench your thirst
for public adulation.

My thirst is for logic.

I don't care what the public
thinks of London's
best-loved detective,

Sherlock Holmes.

Thoughts.

Me-Me talky.

Me-Me talky.

You find killer.

Me-Me talky?
We find killer?

Watson, what are you
trying to do?

Trying to brain-speak.

You're going
to hurt yourself.

Uh, sorry.

Uh, perhaps the gentleman
would be more comfortable

in the companions' chamber.

Perhaps, or perhaps
I'd be comfortable
here by the fire.

In the companions'
chamber, sir.

Yes, fine. Of course.

Great idea.
Yeah, capital idea.

I'll be in the
companions' room.
Yes.

The equal companions' room,
should you need me.

It's just here.

Please enjoy the company
of your fellow companions.

I see. Huh.

Balloons are happy,
but they're not alive.

Fair enough.

Who is this
brilliant nemesis
capable of besting me?

If your nemesis
were truly smarter than you,

it could only be me.

And as I am not the killer,
one must conclude

that the killer did not,
nor could not, outwit you.

If the killer
is my intellectual inferior,

how has he predicted
my every move?

The killer
did not predict your actions.

Our murderer
is a student of yours,

someone in your proximity.

Someone who could
observe you undetected.

Someone who knows you
better than anyone.

His mind radiates wisdom.

Sherlock Holmes
has done it again!

I am dying
from anticipation.

What did your brother
tell you, Holmes?

I believe I've cracked
the case.

It was in front of me
the whole time,
my dear Watson.

Oh, do share.

And ruin the suspense?

I just thought,
since I worked
the case with you...

And we're here.

Now,

you're all wondering
why I gathered
you here today.

Prepare yourself
to be astonished.

The killer
could only be a man

who knew my actions
at every turn.

Who was present
at every murder?

Hmm?

Who knows me better
than anyone?

It was you who arranged
my birthday party

and the cake which contained
the first victim,

initiating the events
leading us to today.

Dr. Watson is the killer.

By studying my methods,

you created a fake crime
only you could solve.

Why? I was
to be so impressed

that I would crown him
co-detective.

He wanted to rewrite history

by becoming my partner.

Okay. Now the part about
how I could never have done it

and on to the surprising
real killer.

I wonder
who it's going to be.

When one eliminates
the impossible,

whatever remains,
however improbable,

is the truth.

But this is absurd.

Holmes, you must know
in your heart...

The heart
is for pumping blood.

The truth is the truth!

Truth

is that I have devoted
my life to you.

And I was a fool to think

you would ever consider me
as a co-detective

when you're incapable
of thinking of me
even as a friend!

Inspector Lestrade,
take him.

Go on.

The man is your
closest friend.

Your pursuit of Moriarty
has failed.

You have no suspects.

The killer still threatens
to kill the Queen.

Is that a chance
you're willing to take?

Take him.
What?

Do you see his propensity
for violence?

- Do you still doubt me?
- Calm down.

I shall never again
carry your blasted
magnifying glasses

or your jars of urine.

Why are we even
saving these?

And you look stupid
in that hat.

Your head was not
meant for hats.

Unhand me! No!

I'll never
forget you, John.

Why?

John Watson
devoted his life to you,

and this is how
you repay him?

Back to America
with your ham-dogs
and hot-burgers.

At least, in America,
our system's fair.

No citizen
can be found guilty

till his case is heard
by a jury of white
property-owning men.

Millie, surely,
you must understand.

Fine, go!

I'm the greatest detective
who ever lived.

You're welcome
for solving this case.

Sherlock abandons Watson!

Well,
you've done it again,
Sherlock.

Justice has been served.

And to think it was underneath
your nose the whole time.

Watson.

Of course it was Watson.

It'll be nice
to have the place
to myself again.

Don't have to deal
with his stupid medical stuff

or the constant badgering
about being a co-detective.

Oh, and the incessant writing
in his blasted journal.

"With each passing day
on the case,

"my admiration for Sherlock
grows and grows.

"I daresay he's more
than a great detective.

"He's a great man.

"A treasure for all of London.

"And I shall always

"consider him my best friend."

A tear?

What is this tear?

I can't stop it.

What is this warm feeling
in my chest?

My God.

Did I push Watson away

because I feared
losing him to Grace?

Somehow, I know in my heart

in a way my brain
can never know,

even a brain like mine,

Watson is innocent!

Watson!

I discovered my emotions,
and I'm only 46.

Hang! Hang! Hang!

Oh, God.

Hang Dr. Watson!
Hang Dr. Watson!

The dogs seem
really unnecessary.

Sherlock.

Oh.

It's you.

You've brought cake.

Watson! My brother!

Watson, where are you?

Where...

I'm too late.

Clever.

Very, very clever.

You were always so clever,

and I never appreciated it.

But it's not too late
to make amends.

Watson!

I shouldn't have wasted
all my time singing!

Ah! Grimy news kids.

I desperately need your help.

Dr. Watson's in
grave danger.

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

Because of you, you wank!

I know.

But I know of a way
to save him.

Please, please help me.

I must find a way
to the docks immediately.

"Moriarty's daughter

"did the one thing
Moriarty never could.

"She defeated Sherlock Holmes
and assassinated the Queen.

"Sherlock Holmes,
the man whom I regarded

"as the best
and the wisest man
whom I would ever know

"was a fraud."

It is done.

A devilish plan
worthy of your father.

The last book
in the Sherlock Holmes
canon is complete,

The Case of the
Defeated Detective.

Daddy will be so proud.

Sherlock will be remembered

as the man who failed
to protect the Queen.

History shall be rewritten

at the hand of his
loyal partner, Dr. Watson.

I've done your bidding.

Now set me free.

You're gonna die here.

You gave me your word.

You swore on the life
of the Queen.

I'm gonna kill the Queen,
you big eejit. Boys!

Mrs. Hudson
is the killer?
Mmm-hmm.

Gorblimey!

How'd you work that out?

Why, it was Watson
who told me.

You see, beet sugar.

Mrs. Hudson's family recipe
and Watson's favorite.

He never would have left
crumbs behind

unless he was
leaving me a clue.

For, you see, Mrs. Hudson's
origins are not so humble.

She is none other
than the daughter
of Professor James Moriarty.

No, it ain't possible.

You see, Mrs. Hudson
never knew her father.

He was never present.

To gain his love,

she tried to pull off
the greatest crime ever.

Destroy the great
Sherlock Holmes.

She took a job at my house
in order to study my methods,

then used a network of patsies
to execute her plans.

However, it wasn't until
I understood feelings

that I understood her motive,

her need for her
father's love.

She would gain it
by eliminating
his greatest enemy,

me.

And tonight, she will commit
her boldest crime yet,

killing the Queen here!

The Titanic.

The marvel of London.

A new castle,
which runs on coal.

Your Majesty,
may I introduce
Lieutenant Morgan.

Lieutenant.

First Officer Carter.

Your Majesty.
First Officer.

Look, Hudson's goons.

Create a diversion.
You go and save
Dr. Watson, Mr. Holmes.

We'll take care of this lot.

Come on, you tom tit!

You ain't bigger
than a couple
of powder monkeys.

Is there a problem, boys?

Think we can take them,
lads. Aye?

Walk away now,
and I promise
you won't get hurt.

A bunch of runts
and a couple of ladies?

American ladies.

Not my eyes!

I'm sorry to do this,
Dr. Watson.

I'm gonna crush your head.

There's gonna be
brains everywhere.

And I'll not be
cleaning up after.

I know you're threatening me,

but I can't understand
a word you're saying.

You're staying, Dr. Watson,

but I'll be on my way
to America by the time
the bomb explodes.

Sherlock will save me.

You'll see.
I'll see.

He won't let me down.

He won't.
He's my best friend!

Dollface!

Come on, boys.

The bomb goes off
in 10 minutes.
Sherlock!

Sherlock!

Help! Help!

Sherlock!

Help!

Watson!

Oh, God, if you save me,
I'll never touch myself again.

Watson!
Oh, Sherlock.

You've come for me.
I knew you would.

Watson, good news.

You're innocent.

Yes. I know.

Oh.
Thank you.

Can you forgive me?
Of course.

Now, be a good chap,
and get me out of this
damn thing

before it crushes
my skull.

Yes? There's a good chap.
Go on.

I won't leave you.
Not again.

That's a lovely sentiment,
but I really need you

to free me from this
gear right now.

Emotions are spewing
from my heart.

Pull yourself together.
Okay.

Stop crying.

Because we must get
the Queen and everyone else
off this ship.

You see,
Hudson has planted a bomb.

A time bomb, you see?

You must free me.
Do you feel my heart ticking?

Get me off this fucking wheel!

All my dreams
are coming true.

In just two minutes,
my bomb will go off,
killing the Queen.

Sherlock Holmes
will go down in history

as the worst detective
the world has ever known.

And the name Moriarty
will live on forever!

Father,

soon, we shall be
together again.

- In America!
- Yeah!

The bomb will detonate
in one minute.

Where could it
possibly be?

Wait.

That kettle drum.

Those are only ever used
in mounted cavalry formations,

never in a Marine band.

Perhaps...

The bomb is in the drum.
Very good, Watson.

But the Queen is standing
just beside it.

She'll be blown
to smithereens.

But how to defuse it
in time?

Time remaining
until bomb detonation,
55 seconds.

Estimated blast radius
from bomb, 17 feet.

Time required to move queen
to safety, 12 seconds.

Solution, move through crowd,

see Millie for the first time,
forget about bomb...

No.

Time remaining, 37 seconds.

Solution, shoot water main
to douse bomb,

remember Millie at the park,
forget about bomb.

No, I forgot about the bomb!

Watson, what are you doing
in my brain?

I'm doing it.

I'm communicating
without words.

I can't focus.
I was trying to
formulate a plan,

and I kept getting off track.

Holmes, no, you don't.
Snap out of it.

I can't. I'm too emotional.

Look behind me.
The Queen's being
blown to bits.

You have to take control.

You must be detective
for both of us.

Right.

I know what I must do.

Estimated blast radius,

20... No, 30 feet?

Account for ship's movement.

Wait. Is that a four
or a seven?

Math is so hard. Hold on.

What does that "X" mean?
Or is that a plus?

What is that thing?
Angle of approach?

Oh, I don't know
how to do angles.

Should have listened
more in school.

Oh, screw it. Charge!

Out of my way!

Move!

Nine, eight...

Coming through!

So sorry!
...seven...

Come on.

Move your tuchis!

Sorry, friend!

...five,

four...

...two...

Aw, shit!

Huzzah.

Huzzah for Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock Holmes
saved the Titanic.

- Huzzah!
- Hurrah for Sherlock!

Bravo, Sherlock!

Sherlock Holmes
was right about everything!

Hip hip hooray!

Thank you. Thank you.

But I could never
have done it
without Dr. Watson.

Oh, no.
Let Watson's name be
forever associated

with the Titanic.

So, when you think
of your friends and relatives
on board the Titanic,

just remember,

Dr. John H. Watson
put them there.

Hooray for Watson!

Bloody good
we didn't hang him.

Dr. Watson,

you saved us.

Thank you.

It has been my pleasure
to serve you, Your Majesty.

No, Millie.

I have a confession to make.

I'm not actually
in love with you.

In order to conclude
my investigation,

it was imperative
that I understood
what love felt like.

I'm sorry to have
led you on.

I have a confession
as well.

I was also not in love.

I was conducting
an experiment

on how easy it is
to manipulate the male ego.

What?
I'm sorry I led you on.

Well, I have
another confession.

Hmm.
I was just pretending
to have a big ego

so as to make you think that
your experiment was working

so that I could conclude
my experiment on you.

Well, I had to lead you on

because I was doing
an experiment
about how men think

they can manipulate
female scientists while
they're doing experiments.

Well, I have another
confession to make.

You will be
shocked to learn
that was my first kiss.

Mine as well,
and we've already
mastered it.

Yes, indeed.

All aboard!

She sails in 20 minutes!

Hurry, everyone!
Step lively!

Enjoy your trip
on the safest ship to sail.

Goodbye.

Farewell, Grace.

Goodbye, Millie.

Make sure you get
plenty of bed rest.

There's a good chance
you're pregnant.

I hope so.

From...
From the kissing?

Yes.
Oh, yes.

What a grand ship.

Yes.

Watson, look.

It's Billy Zane.

Sherlock.

Wow.
He's breathtaking.

Where's the bar
on this canoe?

Holmes.
Mmm.

I believe I may have solved
the one mystery

which has baffled you
all these years.

What?

Would you mind?

Ah.

Do you like it?

Let's see here. Huh?

Oh, it suits you.
Mmm.

I think it's perfect.
Really?

You're not just saying that?
No, I'm not just saying it.

Good.
Thank you, Watson.

And I have something
for you as well.

No. No.
Please. Step over here.

Why?
I don't deserve anything.

My dear Watson.

What do you think?

It's beautiful.

Telegram
for Professor Moriarty.

Professor?

Boy, who sent this?