A Pub that used to be The Admiral’s Shanks, now The General’s Bodice. Evening. ARCHIE walks in. 

ARCHIE pulls out a seat at the bar and sighs. He’s earned this. The Publican, SARAH Fletchley calls out:

SARAH

Well, slap my tits and call me Cassandra, if it isn’t Ex-Inspector Archie Cartwright. Coming in for the usual or just lookin’ to arrest my mum again. 

ARCHIE

Oh yes, a-ha ha, Ms. Fletchley, it gets more hilarious every time. But just the usual for me, thanks. 

SARAH

Hand me your keys.

ARCHIE

Why?

SARAH

Cuz I can tell by your face, my friend, that you need to get good and lubricated, alcoholically speaking, and I ain’t giving them back till I see that. 

ARCHIE

Sarah, that is a wildly unsafe and harrowing precedent to be setting for solving problems for customers…however I agree take the keys. 

A crash in the back of the pub. SARAH sighs. The Kitchen door swings open and ELIZA Fletchley comes out brandishing a wooden spoon. 

ELIZA

Now before you say anything I’ve been telling ya those pint glasses were crooked for weeks. If we could just re-smelt them, like I asked - Oh, Officer Cartwright. Is that you? Here to wrongfully arrest me again or just teetoddle around the scotch no one else wants?

SARAH

Already did that one, mum. 

ELIZA

Well how was I supposed to know, you think I have some average human hearing or something?

ARCHIE

I just came for a drink Mrs. Fletchley but… haha yes. Good one to you too, yes I enjoy this joke. 

SARAH

Don’t worry ‘bout it, mum. Just clear these pint glasses, wash ‘em up and viola, new pint glasses.  And finish up the inventory when you can.

ELIZA

(playfully dry)

Have you ever heard such an ungrateful girl. 

SARAH

Love you too. 

ELIZA walks off.

ELIZA

Love you too, Ex-Inspector. 

ELIZA’s back in the kitchen. 

SARAH

Thank you and if you could just take these glasses with you - and she’s gone. 

ARCHIE

She seems to be doing well.

SARAH

She is. She is. She’s driving me out the back door, but she’s mum, ya know. Now, you want the usual or a surprise.

ARCHIE

Oh, a surprise? What exactly would that be?

SARAH

I don’t know yet. How about you tell me ‘bout your day and I make you a drink based off that?

ARCHIE

I’m terrified of the concoction you’d make.

SARAH

Alright then just give me three words. I’m working on a new thing, kind of like therapeutic treatment through alcohol. Ever since taking over The General’s Bodice I’ve been trying to find its Thing and I think this could be a fruitful road to go down.

ARCHIE

Well…oh, what else is a night off for, I suppose… Alright… let’s go for it. “Stressed” “Fatigued” and… “Strained”.

SARAH

You threw in that last one just for me, didn’t ya? Alright, one Blue Blazer coming right up!

SARAH walks away.

ARCHIE

(to himself)

That sounds expensive. Oh well. I think I have enough change for–

In searching for his wallet, he finds a note in his pocket. 

What the - 

He unfolds the note and reads. 

“Dear Chef. Cartwright. It’s me–”

MCMURPHY

(in Archie’s head)

–McMurphy. From work. I just wanted you to know, I got a great deal from the tartar guy on St. James so instead of getting a couple pounds, we’re gettin’ barrels of the stuff! AND it’s already sauced up. I’ll be right there. Anyway heading down to grab the first few barrels now. I hope it’s ok I left this note in your pocket. It all came together really fast, but long story short, we’re gonna be swimming in tartar sauce soon!

Sincerely–

ARCHIE

(slowly dawning horror)

“Ephraim McMurphy.”

SARAH places the mug of Blue Blazer down for ARCHIE. It’s essentially a Hot Toddy.

SARAH

One Blue Blazer for the Stressed, Fatigued, and Strained ex-law enforcement officer. 

She walks away. 

ARCHIE

…. Oh god. Oh my god, I said cream of tartar, that’s not - they’re not the same thing! No, No, Archie, turn it off. Turn it all the way… Tonight is not for any of that. Tonight is for a much deserved… rest and… not to be disrupted by… barrels of tartar sauce. 

A woman, CHAUNCY Grace, a cool American with a vaguely mid-Atlantic accent, slides into the seat next to ARCHIE. Very smooth.  

CHAUNCY

Deep fried vegetable cakes. 

ARCHIE

I believe it’s called a Blue Blazer, and it’s–oh, a hot beverage, apparently.

CHAUNCY

You said you had an excess of tartar sauce and needed dishes that would eat it up. Deep Fried Vegetable Cakes. On a pillow of tartar sauce. 

ARCHIE

Oh, well I think it’d need to be less of a pillow and more of a trough - 

CHAUNCY

Don’t like that idea, do ya? Want something lighter, brighter, keep your body tighter, fine. How about shredded cod cakes, mixed with tartar sauce, and served over a discrete spinach salad topped with some sort of an artisanal vinaigrette made of - you guessed it - tartar sauce. That’s a 6 pence recipe you can retail at 3 florins if you like.

ARCHIE

That… is actually a pretty good idea.

CHAUNCY

Or maybe you don’t care about health at all - which would make sense if you’re making a menu based on sauces - maybe you want to take the traditional and nontraditional, throw them into a mortar and pestle, and kiss your fears goodbye. Fine. Fried Fish sandwich, no bread, 2 pieces of fish, twice fried each, cheese and cabbage between the filets, fried again on a stove, no butter, just tartar sauce! 

ARCHIE

I think I clogged three arteries just listening to that description. 

CHAUNCY

Exactly why it’d be a top seller. 

ARCHIE

Right….Who are you?

SARAH walks up.

SARAH

Another Jack Rose for ya, Miss Grace.

CHAUNCY

Thanks, Miss Fletchley. Keep the change. 

CHAUNCY flicks a shilling on the bar. So fucking cool. She turns back ARCHIE. 

The name’s Grace. Chauncy Grace. Specialities are Fried Foods and Sauces. But not aiolis! Enough of those self-important bastards back in the states… 

ARCHIE

I’ll have to take your word for it. Nice to meet you.

CHAUNCY

Nice to meet you too, Tartar Sauce.  

ARCHIE

Oh you really don’t need to call me - 

CHAUNCY

I know. Archie Cartwright. I heard you and your friend jawwing on earlier and was spying, snooping, eavesdropping, call it what you will–sorry, old habit. 

ARCHIE

Right. Well, thank you for the culinary advice, but I do apologize - I have important plans to sit here in silence, stare at this table, and sip this Blue Blazer. 

CHAUNCY

Well I’d love a good steak and a 2-bedroom in Historic Chelsea, NYC, but that doesn’t mean it’s gonna happen. Where do your culinary quandaries come from, Cartwright?

ARCHIE

(to himself)

Oh, blasted social contract… 

(To her:) 

I run an establishment umm… opening soon. 

CHAUNCY

Ahh, I see. That’s about as exciting as a first divorce and second marriage–and just as big of a headache. Ya know, my first business was selling meaty handpies out of my box in Flatbush. A few months later I had an offer for a brick & mortar in Hell’s Kitchen, but I stuck with just a cart because I thought it maintained the integrity. Painting on canvas when you’re used to fingerpainting in your basement can be tough, Cartwright, I commend you. 

ARCHIE

Thank you, Ms. Grace. 

CHAUNCY

Chauncy, please. So, hit me: what’s the flagship?

ARCHIE

Dish? Well it’s… that’s an excellent question… it’s umm…it’s called the “Steak Out”. It’s a pun based on the procedural action of staying in a place undetected long enough to expose any behavioral misgivings–but also it’s a meat sandwich. 

CHAUNCY

Meat sandwich…clever. Were you always in the business of beef or is this just a one off excursion into the savory. 

ARCHIE

Uh. Well. If I’m honest I don’t care for… cooking. I’m a baker. 

CHAUNCY

Ahh. That’s what it is. 

ARCHIE

That’s what ‘what’ is?

CHAUNCY

You wanted to bake your biscuits in peace, but everybody wants you to grill the kielbasa. How could I not understand that? 

ARCHIE

Well, not everybody, one specific - 

SARAH walks up.

SARAH

Cartwright, Ms. Grace… Look I hate to do this to you both, but mom’s insisting we close up for the next hour cuz there’s a fire sale across the street at St. Cutleries. It’s on fire, so everything’s on sale. 

ARCHIE

Ah well. Ms. Grace. It was a pleasure. I’ll just take my keys–

CHAUNCY

Actually, I’m on my way to meet a few friends for a little late night dinner get together and casual soiree. Care to join?

ARCHIE

Me? Oh no no no I have to figure out the plating and, and the dishes and, and, there’s tartar sauce and…

Oh fuck it, fine. Bottoms up! 

ARCHIE shoots the Blue Blazer in one. Doesn’t remember it’s a hot drink until it’s too late.  

Hot! Hot hot–it was a hot drink! Oh my… Wow. 

Pulls himself together, still wheezing a bit.

Sarah, would you put that on my tab!

SARAH

(off)

Like hell, I will.

CREDITS

INT. 224 B. Evening.

FITZY, alone in the living room, idly examines the wall of accomplishments. 

FITZY

Quite the - what is this here -  “wall of accomplishments.” Jewel heists, Missing husbands, Insurance fraud, Insurance fraud…Insurance fraud? Well, there’s a clear through-line–

AMBROSIUS chirps. FITZY, a cat person: 

Oh, hello! I was just noticing… no murders… 

AMBROSIUS chirps.

Not a judgment, just an observation. 

MADGE

Oy! Fuck you think you’re doing.

MADGE enters from the other room. 

FITZY

Well, you told me to be a more active part of the process, so I thought I’d acquaint myself with your “wall of–

MADGE

Yeah, when I said “more active,” I meant more like “make drinks,” not ruin Ambrosius’s sleep cycle. 

A little meow like AMBROSIUS is going to sleep. 

See? Now I’ll wake up at 3 in the morning with a paw on my trachea, so thanks for that. 

FITZY

My apologies, but drinks, yes? I could make drinks. That is definitely something I do…all the time. 

FITZY goes to the bar and starts making drinks very tepidly. As if he doesn’t do this often. Because he doesn’t. But he’s trying to prove he’s committed. 

MADGE

So. How am I doing as a last minute replacement for John Watson?

FITZY

Well, I’m sure the pull quotes will be significantly more colorful–sorry, replacement? You’re not a - 

MADGE

What, he was your gig before, right? You said you couldn’t get an interview with him, came to get a profile from me–easy dots to connect. Plus, you were probably wanting to interview him anyway, writer to writer and all–

FITZY snorts. 

I’m sorry. What was that? 

FITZY

What was what? 

MADGE

The [she imitates the snort].

FITZY

I didn’t do that.

MADGE

You did. I said “writer to writer” and you said [snort]. Like a bitch. 

FITZY

Why don’t you tell me about your first case—

But MADGE is on to him, latching on to this newfound glimpse of pettiness for dear life. 

MADGE

No no no. You got some not-so-impartial feelings about the good doctor, don’t you? Is it his writing? I bet it’s his writing. You don’t like his writing, do you? 

FITZY

I…I think his stories are a…valuable sociological record—

MADGE

Oh, so you fucking hate them! 

FITZY

No, no! I appreciate them in a sort of anthropological sense—

MADGE

Yeah, no, but that’s Fitzy for “I hate them, they’re dogshit”! Ohhhh this is great, honestly. Ya know, I was kinda out on you for a bit there, but now that I know you hate things… it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time! What was your first question gonna be, ‘When are you gonna stop submitting to the third worst paper in London and publish a book like a real boy?’   

FITZY is getting a little flustered at getting caught in an unprofessional moment. 

FITZY

I–first of all, I would never disparage another professional in the same space as me. 

MADGE

(delighted)

Oh my god you wish he was dead! What do you hate most about his writing? Like if you had to make a ranked list.

Pathologically polite to his core, he fights tooth and nail to contribute something petty to the conversation: 

FITZY

He…well…he…he gets the dates wrong sometimes.

MADGE

How Fuckin’ Dare He! 

FITZY

And - halfway through the first story he starts talking about America and–eh. 

MADGE

Fuckin’ right, Fitzy, FUCK America. Knew we chucked 'em for a reason! 

FITZY

They’re overwhelmingly sensationalized, clearly there are pieces missing, the emotional arcs that exist don’t track consistently—

MADGE

Yes! 

FITZY

—and they’re just…sort of…well they’re not even saying anything, are they? Not about science, not about crime, not about humanity, not even about Sherlock Holmes. Nothing real. 

A pause like: did I do it right? 

MADGE

Damn. That was petty, then politically incisive, then existentially brutal. I’m impressed. Can’t wait for you to tell me what my story means then. 

FITZY

Well. I don’t know. I…I haven’t written it yet. 

FITZY hands MADGE a drink. 

Your drink. Sláinte.

They drink.

MADGE

Jesus Christ what is this?

FITZY

It’s bitters in soda with some dry vermouth and a… I believe that’s a cherry, it was the jar that was easier to open. In all honesty, I don’t drink. 

FAWX bursts through the door. 

FAWX 

Madge! Thank god you’re home I can’t wait to tell you all of the - why is he still here?

FITZY

Mr. Fawx.

FAWX

Actually it’s Fawx.

FITZY

That’s what I said. 

FAWX

Oh thank god, even I was starting to wonder there for a second.  

FITZY

I’ll just leave that off the record, shall I? Along with all other “quiet-part-loud” bits.

MADGE

Damn, Hampton. Got you pegged. Point: Fitzy.

FITZY

Thank you.

FAWX

Wait, no, there are points now? I want a point, how do I get a point?

MADGE

You can fill this empty pint to the toe top full with a gimlet and see where that gets you.

FAWX

Yes! I love points. So, the case–wait, is James not joining us for Evidence Wall Night?

MADGE

Not unless ‘Evidence Wall Night’ is a euphemism for he and Archie going ten rounds in a recurring Greco-Roman wrestling roleplay. Lucky.

FITZY

Oh my.

FAWX

(whisper)

Uh. Do you think maybe, with present company, we shouldn’t–

MADGE

Don’t worry, he’s cool. 

FITZY

(flattered) 

Wait, I’m cool?

FAWX

(offended)

He’s cool?

MADGE

Sorry, not proper cool. Just, you know, “confirmed bachelor” cool. 

FITZY

How could you possibly know tha–

MADGE

The hat, the “oh my,” the fact that you’re clearly working up to asking Hampton where he got his tie, the ol’ up and down you gave James this morning– 

FITZY

Ok, you can stop. 

MADGE

It’s fine. We can recognize our own, if you get my drift. 

FAWX

(confidentially)

I actually get a lot of my ensembles from the evidence bin behind Scotland Yard. Criminals are quite stylish. 

MADGE

You are aware that you can just not volunteer information, right?

FAWX

Well how am I supposed to get points then, Madge? 

STALLION bursts through the door.

STALLION

No need to rest on the laurels of your consistently-engaged compatriot. James Stallion has arrived. Drinks? Anyone? I’m making drinks.

FAWX

But I already peeled the lemons.

STALLION

Lemons… Gimlet?

MADGE

I missed you.

STALLION

I’ll take it from here. Hampton, why don’t you take a seat, you’ve had a day I’m sure, and we all know I love to make myself useful.

MADGE

(to FITZY, under her breath)

Up and down, Fitzy.

FITZY

(to himself)

Feck me.

STALLION

And you - Oh you’re still here! I suppose that bodes well for The Daughters of the Knitting Circle?

FITZY

Mrs. Stallion and I have come to a positive arrangement. I’ll be shadowing you all for the next few days, and give you full access to the final article.  

MADGE

You don’t need to look so shocked. I can be nice, I make friends!

STALLION

I believe you! Hence why I’m so unshaken. Unlike this gimlet. 

STALLION shakes the drinks.

FAWX

Where’s Archie? Wasn’t tonight your special rendezvous?

STALLION

(totally not overcompensating at all why would you say that)

What? No. Of course not. Just a normal night. He knew how important it was for me to be here for Evidence Wall Night. He told me himself, he said, “James, we are rock solid. I feel more loved by you than the day we met, and with every day our love grows deeper and deeper, like the root of a beautiful potato.” 

FAWX

Well that’s nice I guess, but now that we’re done with pleasantries: I have news!

WHOOSH!

INT. London Sewer. ARCHIE & CHAUNCY approach a secret door.

ARCHIE

Ms. Grace… I’m afraid I must - why is my sock damp, is – what is that, sewer water. On my cuffs - wonderful, now I get to explain to James how I’ve ruined another set of trousers due to liquid-related damage. 

Chauncy stops.

It’s not what you think. 

CHAUNCY

No. Shh! We’re here!

ARCHIE

Ahh. Wonderful. Perhaps now I can take off this bloody blindfold. That’d be - 

CHAUNCY

Cartright, before we go in here I have to ask, one more time, if you’re ready for the entire scope of your life to drastically shift, for the roots of your occupation to be ripped from the soil of your brain, twice fried, then served as a side dish to what the casual civilian might call “life,” for the final battle cry on the mountain of mediocrity to sing out “No More,” for - !

ARCHIE

Yeah. 

CHAUNCY

Beg pardon?

ARCHIE

Yes. It’s late, I’m wet, I’m distracted, I have no idea where I am or why I allowed you to lead me here, and I’m starting to suspect there is no light dinner casual soiree after all so… Ta-ra, ta-ra.  

CHAUNCY

Fine. At the risk of stating the obvious: gird your loins. 

A secret pattern knocked onto a heavy wooden door. 

It’s a secret knock - 

ARCHIE

Oh, is it, now?

CHAUNCY

Why do I feel like you’re not as impressed as you should be?

ARCHIE

I’m sorry, does it not appear that I’m enjoying myself in this dark sewer with my damp trousers? 

CHAUNCY

No. It doesn’t.

A metal hatch slides open. From inside, another distinctly American Voice:

JOEY

Password.

CHAUNCY

Rutabaga Raclette Remoulade Exclamation Point 1881.

JOEY

Evenin’ Agent Grace. And… your guest?

CHAUNCY

This is Archie Cartwright. And he’d like to play…

WHOOSH!

INT. 224B Baker Street.

FAWX at the Evidence Wall. 

FAWX

Which leaves our three key pieces of evidence: Dennis’s impeccable resemblance to John Watson, the altercation between Dennis and John Watson at the rehearsal on the day of the murder, and Dennis’s theft of John Watson’s coat, containing the final letter of one Sherlock Holmes 

He pulls the note out of his pocket. 

Alright, who wants to pin this juicy one to the wall?  

A pause. No one wants to. Finally, FITZY, attempting to be helpful: 

FITZY

Um, I suppose I can—?

FAWX 

Ah ah ah, team members only, Fitzy, thank you. 

MADGE

Well, he is a team member. For the next few days at least. 

FAWX

Wha–when was that decided? 

MADGE

Yesterday. It’s like James says, I gotta do shit like this eventually, may as well do it on my terms. Besides, he’s already been taking notes the whole time. 

FAWX

He has? James was on note-taking duty!

STALLION

Yeah, but I’ve got that wrist thing…and he was already doing it, so–

FAWX

I—ok, fine! Fitzy, pin it, I guess. 

FITZY

Much obliged. 

FITZY gets up and pins the note to the wall. 

MADGE

So to be clear, our two main theories at this point are: one, that John Watson, in a fit of creative rage over a merriment park novelty show, killed Dennis because he…stole his jacket? 

STALLION

I know…how nice was the jacket? 

FAWX

Three piece houndstooth. 

STALLION

We can’t rule it out. 

FAWX

Or two: that Dennis was killed by someone who was actually trying to kill John Watson, but got Dennis by mistake due to their resemblance and Dennis wearing said jacket. 

STALLION

Ooh, I love that one, because it implies that our largest liability was being too good at casting. Fitzy, jot that down. 

MADGE

But what about those threatening notes Weatherby mentioned to you? 

FAWX

Well, that certainly would point more towards theory number two. What would ruin the park opening more than the horrific death of one half of the park’s inspiration? 

FITZY

(still at the board)

Sorry, but why’s the letter incomplete? 

FAWX

What? 

FITZY

The–sorry, I can–not to step on any [toes]–

STALLION

You already started talking, Fitzy, it’ll be more annoying if you stop now. 

FITZY

It’s not…signed. This is Holmes’s final letter, yes? But it can’t be the original–it looks unfinished, like someone was…transcribing it from an original copy, but, look. He didn’t finish the job.  

FAWX

Let me see–oh. Yes. You’re…right, that’s…that’s Watson hand–well, Dennis’s handwriting. Holmes writes in cursive, remember his journals? This can’t be the original! 

MADGE

Damn, Fitzy. Absolutely smashing it. Point you. 

FAWX

Wha–how did that get a point but not–I just said so many things.

MADGE

Right, so, the most logical thing at this point is to talk to the doctor, yeah?  

FAWX

Well, yes. But, easier said than done. He’s a bit tricky to find currently. 

FITZY

Is it possible he’s at his home?

FAWX

(annoyed)

“Is it possible he’s at his home”--yes, Fitzy, that had occurred to me, thanks. I broke in on my way over here–

FITZY

Sorry what.

STALLION

Off the record. 

FAWX

–and he was nowhere to be found. I think we can all agree: take a point away from Fitzy for that stupid question. 

STALLION

I’ll allow it. 

 FAWX

Thank you. From what I gathered, no one has seen John Watson since the morning of the park opening. But I believe I have a lead. Because you’ll never guess who I ran into, loitering on the steps outside…

A knock on the door. 

WHOOSH!

INT. A secret warehouse in South London. Later that night.

ARCHIE sits at a table. Still blindfolded. He doesn’t see the four people seated next to him. 

ARCHIE

Alright, now Ms. Grace. I believe I’ve been patient long enough and now, now, this may be all well and good and fun for you, but I’m now starting to realize I don’t feel as cavalierly about all this as I thought, so - 

LINETTE

Cut off a piece.

ARCHIE

I’m sorry, a piece? A piece of what - 

A knife being unsheathed 

Oh my - ok! 

CHAUNCY

Cartwright, Cartwright. Breathe. Give that inhale the ole exhale.

Beat. ARCHIE slows his breathing, but is still obviously scared. 

Good. Now, open wide.

ARCHIE

Open wi - 

A piece of cake is delicately put in his mouth. ARCHIE struggles at first but then, realizing it’s just a piece of delicious cake he settles into being quite delighted. 

Is that… Is that a Dark chocolate sponge?

The group sighs a sigh of relief. 

CHAUNCY

And?

ARCHIE

And… raspberry. 

The group tenses

No! Boysenberry compote? 

The group sighs a sigh of relief. ARCHIE relaxes as well. Against all odds, this is kinda fun. 

CHAUNCY

And the 4th most prominent flavor?

The group leans in.

ARCHIE

May I have another - ?

JOEY puts the fork to the cake to get a bite but not before: 

CHAUNCY

(stopping him)

No. 

The group gasps.

LINETTE

Chauncy…

ARCHIE

No, no. It’s quite Alright.  Want to play cheeky, we can play a bit cheeky. The fourth most prominent flavour is… Juniper.

Beat.

CHAUNCY

Ahh, you were so close, Cartwright. But ‘close’ don’t blanch the biscuit. Cuz ya see, the fourth most prominent flavor in that cake…

A shot glass is placed on the table in front of ARCHIE. A shot gets poured.

Is gin. 

Beat. 

The group erupts in applause and cheers.

ARCHIE

What is… what?

CHAUNCY

Drink up, Cartwright. You’ve earned it. 

JOEY

Wonderful stuff-

LINETTE

Excellent form - 

SVEN

Super Duper Material - 

NIKITA

Inspired. 

ARCHIE

I - oh, thank you - but what in god’s name is going on here and where… am…I? 

A whimsical music theme, because we are: 

Sitting at an ornate island in the middle of a warehouse with a large furnace, several ovens, several cooking stations, and a wall of food. It’s like a Victorian Top Chef Test Kitchen. 

ARCHIE

(full of wonder)

What… is this place…?

CHAUNCY

You like it? We’ve been working on this heap for the past few months now. A place for all of us to convene, assemble, and… Cook up something new. 

The group laughs lightly.

SVEN

Such a good one, Chauncy. 

CHAUNCY

Don’t make it obvious, Sven.

ARCHIE

Alright, yes, I’m still gathering my bearings over here: Who exactly are…  all of… you? 

JOEY

Simple. All of us, well, we found each other when no one wanted so much as a free sample.

LINETTE

Filling in a hole where they unintentionally would be.

NIKITA

Not like a Doughnut, where the hole is intentional. 

SVEN

Or a bagel, where it’s also intentional.

CHAUNCY

No we mean the kind of hole that emerges when you’re sitting down to a 5-course-prix-fixe menu… and someone forgot the soup.

The Group shudders. 

So what do you say, Cartwright? Are you in?

At no point did any of them answer his question. 

ARCHIE

Am I… I have no idea what is happening right now! I don’t know where I am, I don’t know who you all are, I’m assuming from the food metaphors you're some kind of group. All I know is I’m very grateful that chocolate cake wasn’t poisoned, or who knows, maybe it is and it’s a delayed effect–but that doesn’t change the fact that I am confused, I am perturbed, I’m having a lot of regrets, and against my better judgment, I’d really very much would just like another piece of that cake please! 

NIKITA

Meta-forks.

ARCHIE

What?

NIKITA

You said “Food Metaphors.” I said, “Meta-Forks.” As a pun. Is right there, no? 

Slight beat.

ARCHIE

Right. Actually. I need to go. I apologize, Ms. Grace, but I need to get home to see my–well, I made a promise. And besides, I get enough puns at my 9 to 9 these days, I simply cannot add more– 

CHAUNCY

Ah, yes, the conundrum of the Stake Out sandwich. Quite a wily problem you got there. 

Everyone acknowledges, thinking. 

ARCHIE

I’m sorry?

SVEN

First, you’re gonna need your meat, so spend time on your kill, make it count, and thank it for the delicious meal it’s about to provide. Then let the steak dry age for at least 109 days and smoke it for at least 109 more. Grill with butter and rosemary. Then you’ve got to let that bad boy rest. People always forget but - anyway. cut  diagonally and plate against a neutral colored side dish like potatoes or mashed rutabaga. That's a gold derby winner. Sven Carpathy. Smoked Fish and Endangered Meats.

LINETTE

Or what about a bite sized sampler platter. Make 3 different sandwiches with three different flavors and cut them into bite sized finger sandwiches, displayed on a woodland trail made of granola, honey, and pickled beets for a bright note. Linette Boursin. Charcuteries and handmade boards. 

JOEY

No offense, Linette, but I think the people who eat at Cartwright’s restaurant are gonna want real food, pre-assembled, alright? Joey Biscotti. Joey’s the name, Biscotti’s the game. That’s why I’m sayin’ ya roll up your meat sandwich into a thick breadstick and you let it dehydrate until it absolutely destroys your mouth on impact. I’m talkin’ chipped tooth in ya chipped beef. Classic Biscotti

NIKITA

Or you could preserve it in gelatin. I’m Nikita. I like it when food jiggles. 

CHAUNCY

Now come on, Tartar Sauce, let Joey whip you up a Dessert Martini and tell us all about your steak sandwich. 

WHOOSH!

INT. 224B Baker Street.

Another knock, more impatient. 

MADGE

So why aren’t we answering the door? 

FAWX

They were 5 minutes early, we need to give them the illusion that we’re busy people. 

STALLION

Oh, it’ll be fine–I’ll get the door. Archie has told me I have a wonderful way with children.

STALLION opens the door. 

Hello, friends. Would anyone be interested in a sweet treat?

A group of children of the street, urchins some might say, stand at the door, The Baker Street Irregulars. 

WIGGINS

Nah, nah, nah. We heard you lot pissin’ and whinin’ about us bein’ 5 minutes early for this little meetin’, you think we believe you have refreshments waitin’? 

STALLION

Uhh, no. But - 

WIGGINS

You hear that, boys. This guy’s got “No Butt”.

The kids chuckle menacingly.

STALLION

What? No, I meant to say - 

WIGGINS

It’s like they say in the good book, innit? “Meant to’s and Shoulda’s don’t mean a pied piper’s golden flute to a donkey.” The name’s Wiggins. And these are the Baker Street Irregulars, trademarked, The Strand, 1888. Now, come on in, boys, make ya self at home.

Several children come storming in. 

MADGE

Ay, ay, ay! Watch it with those dirty cobblestompers on the rug, just cuz we got it for a bargain doesn’t mean we need to treat it that way. 

WIGGINS

Oi! Boys! Shoes off! Criss-cross applesauce formation! Hut! !

They do.

STALLION

Well, you seem to be the leader of the group, same here. I think you’ll find I’m a lot more like you than you think. I love running about, I never eat my vegetables, and I think the only good music is coming from so far underground the establishment can’t even hear it, you may call me - 

WIGGINS

Right, I don’t think I asked you your name. Same way I don’t think any of us ever said we was opposed to stayin’ in, eatin’ our veg, or listenin’ to the classics. Ain’t that right, boys?

BAKER STREET IRREGULARS

Aye!

WIGGINS

In fact, Tuppence here’s gonna be a big opera star one day. Got the voice of an angel, she does.

TUPPENCE

These 16 bars are from O Don Fatale from Verdi’s Don Carlos as it was performed at the Theater Royal Drury Lane last month by some hack with bad technique.

She starts. It’s awful. 

MADGE/FAWX/STALLION/FITZY

That’s enough of that/Oh my, let’s stop, shall we/I love it, I love it but no./A bit pitchy…

TUPPENCE

That’ll be two pence. 

STALLION gives it to her.

STALLION

Well weren’t you named accurately. 

WIGGINS

She’s got the voice of an angel, we just didn’t tell you it was the angel… of death!

The Baker Street Irregulars burst out in obnoxious laughter.

TUPPENCE

Right?! Right?! This joke don’t hurt my feelings at all. 

FAWX

You know what, we’re very busy people, so how about we just cut straight to the business and we give you your assignment–we can talk compensation later when we have time.

WIGGINS

Alright, no fun, but sure. Here’s the deal. We’re each on retainer for three pounds a day and we do a full compiling of all our findings at the end of every business week. 

STALLION

What?!

FAWX

No, no–you quoted me two pounds an hour ago! 

WIGGINS

Yeah, and then you made us wait on the doorstep!

FAWX

I—now listen, I know Holmes only paid you one pound!

WIGGINS

Yeah, well, call it a mournin’ tax. We’re takin to rise up in the world, be more respectable like, and the only way to do that is - say it with me boys:

BAKER STREET IRREGULARS

Raise our Rates.

WIGGINS

Take yaself more seriously, the world takes ya more seriously, ya know what I mean?And by the way, Mr. Holmes had a clear roster and delineation of roles in his operation, unlike you all, so we’ll be charging you a tax for the structural disorganization.  

FAWX

You–!

MADGE

Look! We just need to know if you have any information on where John Watson might be now. 

STALLION

(trying way too hard)

In the most laid back, cool, non-grownup way possible.

WIGGINS

He does realize how sad it is when an adult acts like a child, right? 

STALLION

Well, no, I’m, I’m not trying to sound like anything I’m simply - 

WIGGINS

Ya got a suit, ya got a nice haircut, you probably went number two in a toilet this morning. You’re a grown up. Act like it. 

STALLION

You’re right, I was not acknowledging my entitlement in having a toilet, and that is wrong. 

MADGE

Alright, enough of this shit!

The Baker Street Irregulars giggle to themselves. 

What the fuck…?

They laugh harder. 

WIGGINS

It’s the cursin’ maam. We are still kids after all. 

MADGE

Are you fucking kidding me? You’re supposed to be the best spy system in London, how can that even be possible with you all tittering up a storm every time you hear the word “twat”.

They laugh again. One kid “She’s my favorite”

FAWX

Alright, alright boys, settle, settle. Time to be adults about this. Remember? Toilets. 

WIGGINS

Alright, alright, let’s settle. We may have some intel you’d be interested in. So we gonna do this deal or not? 

STALLION

Of course, yes, for sure, for sure–would you mind if we just sort of did a sidebar. Over here?

MADGE

And don’t touch any of my shit. 

Titter.

In the sidebar:

Right, so I don’t trust these losers.

STALLION

Me either. I’m sort of getting a bad vibe. Also they were incredibly rude when all I was trying to do was relate to them on their level.

MADGE

By saying you had access to a toilet, yeah, we were all there.

FAWX

I don’t know, sure they’re rough around the edges and that Wiggins chap hasn’t blinked since they’ve come in, but I’ll be damned if I don’t see in them a little bit of myself at that age. Madge, you remember what it was like starting out, you just want someone to take you seriously.

MADGE

At three pounds a day?! 

STALLION

Exactly. And if we agree to this, they’ll only ask for more next time. Plus, I cannot let it get out that we were out-negotiated by 8 year olds, Hampton, that’ll be worse than the murder. 

Scrawl of a pen. 

Do not write that down, Fitzy. 

FITZY

Right. Is there anything that I am allowed to write down, then? 

STALLION

If you’ve got a checkbook handy I’ve got a few ideas. 

FAWX

Might there be an upside to patronizing a local small business, public-relations-wise? As charity? 

MADGE

Hampton, what are you talking about, they’ve made fun of you right to your face this whole meeting.

FAWX

You do that to me everyday.

MADGE

Exactly and it’s not like I’m seeing residuals. 

STALLION

I’ve made my fortune through good investments, Hampton. Not charity work.

FITZY

(under his breath)

Spoken like a true member of the elite.

STALLION

Thank you, Fitzy. 

FAWX

This is ridiculous! They gave Holmes and Watson a fair rate because the people respected them, and therefore they respected them–we just need them to respect us too! 

MADGE

Right, so what if we haggle? Offer 2 pounds an hour for the promise of three guaranteed cases or something? 

Beat. 

FAWX

Yeah, I like that. 

STALLION

Shoulda thought of that earlier. 

MADGE

Right, well

To the room:

It appears that after careful deliberation we’ve decided - 

A thwap of paper against skin and a gasp!

WHOOSH!

INT. A secret warehouse in South London. Later that night.

A Battle Royal-esque music cue. With great ceremony, slowly revealing they’re all pretty drunk:

CHAUNCY

Carrots.

The group acknowledges. 

SVEN

Fried kippers.

The group acknowledges.

LINETTE

Wildflower Honey.

The group slightly less acknowledges

It was my choice, I’m sticking with Wildflower Honey.

The group overcompensates its acknowledgments. 

JOEY

Alright where to go, where to go, I could do a little of -

CHAUNCY

(chiding)

Biscotti. Rules. 

JOEY

Right, right, Classic Biscotti. Always thinkin’ out loud. Alright. I’m gonna say… Bacon.

The group really acknowledges.

NIKITA

Gelatin.

The group yadas, yeah we get it. 

A beat.

ARCHIE

Standard shortbread biscuit. 

The group is shocked.

CHAUNCY

Bold. The time starts… now.

A timer ticking and the flurry of pencils scratching on paper. After about 4-5 seconds.

ARCHIE

Done!

JOEY

Goddammit!

LINETTE

I’m telling you it’s the order, he gets more time to think!

SVEN

Quite a run, Mr. Tartar Sauce. Quite a run

NIKITA

Formidable. Very formidable. 

CHAUNCY

Hold on! Hold on! He still has to convince us.

ARCHIE

Join me, if you will, we boil and mash the carrots, sweetening them with the wildflower honey and thickening with a bit of the grease from the bacon, crisping in the corner, and, yes, Nikita, a touch of gelatin. Now the Shortbread? We’re going to crush that up, and turn those little morsels into crumbs, and what do we have here? Oh, if it isn’t some melted butter and crisped up bits of bacon that would mix perfectly into our shortbread crumbs making the crust for this Semi-sweet, savory carrot pie. 

The group’s gotta give it up, that does sound pretty good. They start pouring shots of gin for everyone but ARCHIE.

CHAUNCY

Au contraire, Tartar Sauce. You forgot one fishy ingredient. 

ARCHIE

Fry the kippers til they’re past the point of tasting like kippers, beat them into crumbs, mix them with salt, pepper, and more bits of bacon and sprinkle it on the top. 

The group laughs and applauds. 

I believe that’s once more for you all: Drink.

They all take their shot. 

And you know what, piss it, I’ll take one too!

A group EYYYYYYYY! ARCHIE takes a shot too. 

JOEY

Ok, I’m good for a minute. That’s… I haven’t lost that many rounds since Linette’s Sommelier demonstration … I’m gonna sit down.

NIKITA

You are sitting down. 

CHAUNCY

You know I gotta say, Cartwright, it has been a real Peoria Yard Sale having you join us tonight. 

ARCHIE

Oh the pleasure is all yours, you’re very much welcome. No, that was a - But no, seriously. Seriously? This has been one of the best nights that I’ve had in… I can’t even tell you how long. So thank you for bringing me to your, your cooking… club? Right, is it a club?

JOEY

More like a gang.

SVEN

I prefer collective

LINETTE

A guild of craftspeople

NIKITA

Yes, is club.

ARCHIE

That’s great. That’s really nice for you all. 

CHAUNCY

Well, well, well Cartwright, is that a hint of jealousy, I hear? 

ARCHIE

No! I’m not some… jealous little… school… thing - No, I just mean. That’s very nice. 

CHAUNCY

I mean look, we’re nothin’ official, just a group that likes to meet up once a week to vent and talk food shop. 

NIKITA

And we always meet on Mondays, which, once the park is open, is day off, no? 

ARCHIE

Well, isn’t that lovely and convenient and… Hold on now. How do you know when my day off is once the park opens?

CHAUNCY

Umm… what?

ARCHIE

You just said - Nikita just said she knew when my day off is once the park opens, how do you know when my day off is once the park opens?

Prolonged beat.

NIKITA

Because we have file on you.

ARCHIE

You have file on me. 

NIKITA

We have file on you.

ARCHIE

And what, pray tell, does file say? Oh and, Why Do You Have a File On Me?!

CHAUNCY

Now Cartwright, Calm down - 

ARCHIE

No, you know, I think I should just be going - 

CHAUNCY

Just sit back down.

JOEY

Whoa buddy, it’s all good.

SVEN

It’s standard procedure, really.

NIKITA

That was me.

ARCHIE

You?

NIKITA

Yes. I began the file on you. Old habit from my days back at Peloponnesian Intelligence – Documented Administrative Assistant 1881-1884. Undocumented Field Work 1884-1889. 

SVEN

And I did your background check. Sorry, Tartar Sauce. I used to do all the background checks for the Scandinavian Monetary Union but then I had to get out - for me it was all about the backgrounds and for them it was all about the money. 

LINETTE

And now you can finally put those fears to rest, you were being stalked these last two weeks. But it was only to find out your habits and routes home. 

ARCHIE

You were stalking me?!

LINETTE

You didn’t notice? Oh still got it, Linette. Former receptionist for The Paris Police for 6 years. Then classic story: I fell in love with an anarchist. I told him if he threw away his bombs, I’d throw away my pension. As you can imagine, it reached a tragic end. We’re both fine, he’s just married. Viva La Resistance. 

JOEY

And I’m sure you can guess, I used to be a Canadian Mountie. 

ARCHIE

Oh and… how’d you get here?

JOEY

What’d’ya  mean, how’d I get here, I took a boat. 

ARCHIE

Ok…? And what about you? 

CHAUNCY

Former Special Agent Chauncy Grace, to you. Of the Pinkerton division. 

ARCHIE

Right. So, contrary to your plan of transparency, I liked this better when it was just a group of adults who talked about food and drank excellent dessert martinis. 

JOEY

You’re welcome.

CHAUNCY

Don’t you see, Tartar Sauce–it still is. With just one other slight commonality. We all know what you’re going through. 

ARCHIE

Going through, what the devil do you mean, going through?

SVEN

You had something you thought gave you purpose, serving the people–but realized the system was built to fail.

LINETTE

So you get out, try to serve people another way, a way that also makes you happy. Kill two pigeons with one paring knife.

JOEY

But it don’t make you happy no more. You get bogged down in the business, too many distractions. Too much moisture in the dough. 

NIKITA

Dealing with Rigid, unmoving Assholes. 

CHAUNCY

We’ve been there. We are there. And we want to help. 

ARCHIE

So… if I’m hearing this correctly, this isn’t a cult. You aren’t trying to eat me. You all used to work in law enforcement and now you’re just a bunch of amateur cooks looking for friends to cook and commiserate with? 

CHAUNCY

I’d say yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Don’t you think?

They all agree.

ARCHIE

Well, in that case… Shall we go for another round?

WHOOSH!

INT. 224B Baker Street. 

A thwap as WIGGINS hands a thick stack of paper over to MADGE.

WIGGINS 

There you go. 

MADGE

Oh, wait, did we do it already? Is this the evidence? 

WIGGINS

That is the invoice for our services so far. Pro-rated.

FAWX

But you haven’t even done anything!

WIGGINS

Consultation services. Tuppence may not keep time musically, but she sure do keep time in business meetings. 

MADGE

You sonofa–

FAWX

Madge! Orphans. 

MADGE

Right, yeah, perspective. 

WIGGINS

Look, I’ll level with you. We may have intercepted a piece of mail headed for the park. A threatening sort of piece of mail, from a few days ago. And we may have that here with us today. And because you’re new, we’ll give you an introductory discount, ey–a free trial, if you will. I’ll let you look at it for five seconds, for the low, low price of 5 pounds, right now. 

FAWX

That’s not a free trial—by definition! You can’t just–

FITZY

(fuck it, negotiator mode)

10 seconds for 3 pounds, and I’ll mention you in the story. 

FAWX

Excuse me, no one asked—

WIGGINS

6 for 4. And we’ll give you your newspaper that we nicked from your front porch. 

MADGE

What!

STALLION

I mean, maybe we see what happens here?

FITZY

8 seconds and the newspaper, 3 pounds, this novelty coin of a capuchin from my last trip to the zoo–and I mention your friend has the voice of an angel in the Evening Sun.

Beat.

WIGGINS

You got yourself a deal, Mister. Tuppence, start the clock. 

WIGGINS pulls the paper from his pocket. We hear the tick of 8 seconds on TUPPENCE’s pocketwatch. 

FAWX

(Referring to the Note)

“Mr. Peppermint, your egregious disregard of my past warnings will not stand.” Wait–

TUPPENCE

Four.

FAWX

If you do not heed my warning and cancel your disgusting capitalistic display -” 

STALLION

I’m sorry they said what now?

FAWX

Wait, something’s not right. 

FAWX has seen something that doesn’t make sense but he’s panicking as we all do with a countdown. 

TUPPENCE

Two. 

FAWX

It’s the–the paper? No, that's not it, it's the–

WIGGINS

8 seconds, that’s it! 

FAWX

No! No, I almost had it, let me see! 

WIGGINS

Nah nah nah, deal’s a deal. We’ll take our pay and go–

The door opens.

FAWX

But wait, no no no–do you know where John Watson is? 

WIGGINS

Pfff. Yeah, Of course we know where the doctor is. 

FAWX

…and? Where is he? 

WIGGINS

You ever tried to get a Doctor’s appointment same day, mate? Ain’t gonna happen. 

Door closes. They’re gone. 

MADGE

Well fat lotta good they were - Out several pounds, no solid leads from that note, and we still don’t know the location of the good doctor.

FAWX

No but now we do know definitive proof that someone was threatening Lucius Peppermint over the opening of the park. 

MADGE

Right and that was…?

FAWX

Well I didn’t get to the end of the note but - 

FITZY

But perhaps you got what you needed after all. 

MADGE

Oh, god, like the “power of friendship”? Because mate, we already did that one–

FITZY

No, like the copy of The Times they were holding hostage. 

He offers the paper to them. They all gather around. 

FAWX

“John Watson to Make Hopeful Reappearance at Lucius Peppermint’s Annual Gaga-for-Galas Charity-a-Thon Tomorrow Night.”  

FITZY

Now, I may not be able to get children to like me, or solve a murder, but I do know how to negotiate for information. And when a source is trying to extort you for that information…well.

MADGE

You know what, Fitzy, you caved to a child and got scooped by all of your peers but I’m still gonna give it to ya on this one. Point restored. 

STALLION

Huh. So the Doctor does know how to return an RSVP.

WHOOSH!

INT. The General’s Bodice. Later that evening. 

ARCHIE, CHAUNCY, SVEN, LINETTE, JOEY, and NIKITA enter the General’s Bodice. They are drunk and rollicking. 

CHAUNCY/JOEY/LINETTE/SVEN/NIKITA

Tartar Sauce! Tartar Sauce! Tartar Sauce!

SARAH

Well, well, well, Inspector Cartwright, looks like you had a good and alcoholically lubricated night after all. 

ARCHIE

Apparently so, Miss Fletchley now if I may please have my - 

LUCIUS, pretty drunk, speaks up from down the bar. 

LUCIUS

Yes! Come on! It’s so wonderful to see such life in such a place as this. No offense, Miss Fletchley.

SARAH

Whatever you say, Mr. Peppermint. I’ll go grab your keys, Cartwright. Then the next rounds on me, eh?

CHAUNCY

You got a deal. 

ARCHIE

Uhh, Mr. Peppermint. Hi, hello. What uh, what uh, what uh… why are you here?

LUCIUS

Oh Yes, yes I know. It feels like quite a big deal: Well I used to frequent this spot when it was a little family haunt known as the Admiral’s Shanks, not sure if you’re familiar - delightful little hovel, surprisingly clean. And now… I like to come here to mingle with the common man. Like you or… well not you, but this large fellow. You jolly roger, you.

SVEN

I can’t feel my face.

LUCIUS slips into his actual accent. 

LUCIUS

Quite so, quite so. Same, honestly. You see I’ve started this new business venture and it’s… well, hexagon of secrecy, it could very well be the most ambitious thing I’ve ever done. And everything is going so well. But then this dead body just poof shows up to our soft press opening, without an invitation - And now I, I, I mean you’d have no problem grieving and being amused at a place where someone else died, right? More bang for your buck on the grieving front, eh? Not the guy who the park was built for but someone else? You all get it, you’d still go, right? 

ARCHIE

I mean, once the proper investigation was done and after time for all the bugs to be worked out, but -

LUCIUS

Right, well it’s outdoors, so bugs are going to be there.  But you get it. Right? What do you think?

CHAUNCY

I’m not one for frivolous amusement adventures. 

LUCIUS

Right. Right. Well, Good. Others are. And thanks to those others it’ll be a success! A big bright burning success! I mean it has to be or… 

A clock strikes 1am. He snaps back to the fake accent instantly and stands. 

The tolling of the bell. Right. Well. That’s my cue. I hope we receive your patronage. In fact, when you do come just mention you know me and - here - Free admission and one free meal. From me to you all. 

ARCHIE

Oh yes, I’m sure your head chef loves that you just give away free meals.

JOEY

And how is the food? I hear you’ve got a real ace in the kitchen there. 

LUCIUS

Ehh? Ya know? Anyway, night, Miss Fletchley. 

SARAH

(approaching)

Your bill, sir.

LUCIUS

Put in on my tab, please thank you!

He’s gone. SARAH Fletchley, walks back to the bar, to ARCHIE:

SARAH

I swear to god, that man... I thought the rich were bad to their house staff, then I got into hospitality.

CHAUNCY

Just watch out for that one, Cartwright. I had a friend that used to work at his Dickens Restaurant. Went under so fast the kitchen and wait staff showed up for two days after it closed thinking it was their shift.

SVEN

Right, and didn’t his last three business partners all end up in financial ruin?

LINETTE

That’s right, who were they again?

CHAUNCY

No clue, all I know is apparently they foot the bill for everything and he’s the one who walks away from the ashes. Alright so… Another round on Sarah, then the next one on me or - say, Cartwright, where are you off to with that look of deep contemplative worry?

ARCHIE

Um… I believe I must go home. I’ll take my keys, Miss Fletchley. I’m afraid James has a lot of explaining to do. 

CREDITS.