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Condom Bandits [*]

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     "Atkins, dear boy, it's great to be alive in the late 19th century. Be a good friend and hand me my cocaine."
     Atkins brought out a small mirror from his purse and lined up some cocaine on it. "Be careful not to blow the cocaine off before you snort it, Homeboy."
     Sherlock rolled a bill and snorted the line without spilling any on the floor. "Not to worry, Atkins. 'Tis elementary. Forgive my manners. I don't intend to be a selfish brute. Would you like some as well?"
     "No thank you. I am still recovering from last night."
     "Very well," said Sherlock, slouching in an armchair. "How is your new diet book coming along?"
     "I have the first chapter completed."
     "You astound me my dear friend. A diet book based completely off the premise to eat more red meat. Before questioning your research I had assumed that white meat was better for you, along with fish."
     "Nope, you're wrong. Fucking dumbass."
     Sherlock's forehead tightened and they both became alert to the door opening. A man dressed in a prince Albert suit entered. There was a metal chain that went across his breast and his hair was combed backward and auburn.
     "Good evening, gentleman," he said. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Captain Gerald Maverick and I have a most urgent matter for you to accomplish."
     Sherlock removed his hand from his breast pocket. "Before we begin I'd like to announce that I have discovered quite a few things about you. You were drunk last night, secretly have intimate thoughts about your male friends, don't believe in evolution, and hate women."
     "Sir! How did you discover so many things about me without me telling you?"
     "I don't mean to insult your intelligence, but let me proceed with my observations."
     "Don't do that."
     "Listen, I haven't got all day to listen to you analyze me. You aren't a psychologist so I doubt you would give me any meaningful advice and as you know I have gay thoughts and your assistant is quite attractive, however I like to suppress my urges so that my employment with the military remains. So please just cut to the chase and quit prepping up your speech."
     "I apologize for that." Sherlock's mood depressed a bit. "Well anyways your hungover because your speech is slurred and you tighten your lips between sentences. You have secret thoughts of your male friends because you spend an extraordinarily large amount of time working out your buttocks and you hate women because you have an overdeveloped mustache hanging over your lip that even the most competitive gold digger wouldn't compliment. Also, you don't believe in evolution because you wear a cross around your neck."
     "Bravo," said Captain Maverick. They both clapped in unison.
     Sherlock grabbed a few balls and began to juggle them. Both their mouths opened in awe. Then Sherlock swallowed a sword from king Charlemagne. The audience clapped more. Sherlock walked over to his bookshelf and picked up a book on physics from Newton and put his thumb over it, flipping through the pages quickly enough to finish the entire book in 10 seconds.
     "I just finished this book and now understand gravity and the laws of motion."
     More clapping. Captain Maverick stood up. "I have never seen such a performance. Now I'd like to hire you Sherlock. You are the best detective in England and probably the entire world. The United States has military power, but I doubt they have detectives of your caliber. The case is of a recent problem with the town square. Someone has been discarding used condoms along the corners of streets. I saw another condom stepping out of a horse and carriage on the way to your house. I don't like this new invention of the condom. The proletariat have enough problems with drugs and prostitution. Now they will become addicted to sex?" Captain Maverick paused and looked down. "Well at least they won't create more babies that can't be properly provided for. I just want the culprit brought to justice. Old rich women everywhere are nearly fainting at the sight," said he.
     Sherlock grabbed Dr. Atkins and walked out towards the crime scene. They looked down at the used condom.
     Sherlock spoke first. "Well there isn't much evidence here besides this used condom. Doctor, be a good assistant and grab it for me will you?"
     Dr. Atkins stared at him coldly. "There are tongs in the mansion. I shall be back shortly."
     Dr. Atkins picked up the condom with his tongs. "Should we examine the semen with my microscope?"
     "You can if you want," replied Sherlock. "But to catch this culprit we must record the location of every discarded condom in this town."
     "Do you suppose they are from prostitutes?"
     "They could be. They could also be from numerous different people, but I suspect one person is doing this deliberately and can't afford a place to do it in. That's why he is doing it in these places."
     "Doing what?"
     "Sex, Dr. Atkins. I thought you were a doctor."
     "Listen, I can't guess everything."
     Sherlock contemplated. "Let's get some rest tonight and tomorrow we'll scavenge the town for lost condoms."
     "What if he strikes again!"
     "I surely doubt this caveman would change the colour of this town by doing so."
     The next day they collected every condom in a two mile radius. "Boy am I tired," exclaimed Dr. Atkins. Sherlock suspected his partners exhaustion was from his new diet, but didn't say anything.
     "Homeboy, I have marked the location of every condom we have discovered on this map."
     "Merciful western pure land," remarked Sherlock. "It's in the shape of a pentagram."
     Dr. Atkins looked closely into the map. "Sherlock that is the shape of a penis."
     "Ah yes. Pentagram is actually French for penis."
     "Right," said Dr. Atkins.
     They worked for only four hours that day. The effects of cocaine on their central nervous system was so severe that what appeared to be difficult work was actually quite simple. Fortunately, for them, cocaine was so expensive that they only snorted about a gram a day and their love for justice prevented them from devoting their entire life to the drug.
     The next day the Earth turned about as similarly as the day before. They woke up to chipper birds chirping and the sun lighting up the autumn sky. However, being very busy they never noticed these things and after a small breakfast of an egg and toast they resumed work.
     "How do we find this man, doctor?"
     "I suppose we can predict his next move and meet him there."
     "Excellent. How is your kung fu? He could be armed and dangerous. Are you prepared to fight this man to the death?"
     "Sherlock, I would never perform kung fu. Yellow men are even more despicable than blacks."
     "What about survival?"
     "I will carry a Colt six shooter with me. Let's figure out how to determine his next sexual misadventure."
     "When was the last time you had sex?"
     "That is none of your business!"
     The way they figured out where the fornicator was moving next was by looking at the shape of the penis and gently seeing any missing gaps, thereby pinpointing his next conquest. There was only one point on the penis that followed such framework. It was the urethra. It took them both eight hours to figure out directions to get to the location.
     They pitched a tent and waited for the man. "Am I hungry?" asked Atkins.
     "Look there is a deli over there. Go get some pork or something."
     "Perfect. That will help my new diet."
     "Pork is not from a cow, it is from a goose you idiot!"
     "Sorry, homeboy. I went to college they don't teach you that kind of stuff. I'm not clever like you!"
     They both walked into the deli and had a sandwich. Afterwards they skipped out holding hands.
     "You are right Sherlock. Aristotle was one of the wisest men ever born."
     After they returned to their tent they took a nap. Hours passed and night arrived. They heard rustling in the bushes.
     "Are you sure you don't want to put it in my butt? It's tighter back there."
     "My lady I am religious and don't perform those heinous acts. Now put your legs over my shoulders and squeeze your tits."
     "Yes, King George the VI."
     Sherlock woke first. Afraid to approach anyone titled king he lied down in the bushes."
     "Someone is here?"
     "Yes. I am speaking from the tent next to you. I don't intend to spoil anyone's evening, but have you been sleeping around town and discarding condoms?"
     "No, I have only been with one other man my entire life!"
     The king darted his eyes in another direction then laughed a little bit. "Okay, it was me! I admit my sins. You don't know what extravagant wealth and beautiful hair does to a man. Plus she is so young and full of life that I cherished every moment spent with her as if she was my daughter. Don't ruin my good name though. You don't know what it would do to the spirit of the men who admire me."
     Sherlock thought for a deep while. "Here's what is going to happen. You promise me to clean up after yourself each time you have sex anywhere and then I will not report you. However, be warned that if I ever see another rubber condom I will find a man practiced in the art of kung fu and have him perform a special punch that will kill you in one blow. And I've heard the rumors, but this punch is for real and works.
     "We have a deal my good man."

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