Dear Nincompoop: The Journal Of Sherlock.

[bubiza]

Userame: ╬JesusFreak╬
Rate out of 10: 9.... because you haven't written much yet, but I'm sure I'll change it to 10 once there's more entries!
Who's ya favorite charrie? Uh.... Sherlock, of course.
Are you a stalker? o.O DUH!
Insert your favorite meme in the space below: What's a meme?
Any Extra Info that you feel like talking about: You are AWESOMESAUCE!

Ohmigosh! Thank you!
And a meme is an Internet joke that's popular, like Nyan Cat, Rick Roll and MLP: FiM.
Here's the proper definition:

An element of a culture or behavior that may be passed from one individual to another by nongenetic means, esp. imitation.
An image, video, etc. that is passed electronically from one Internet user to another.

[bubiza]

Dear Nincompoop,

I. Am. At. War. With. This. Penelope. Person.
Basically, me, Watson and Diesel woke up (he decided to stay over) and Penelope was singing in the shower really loudly. I decided that that was a good time to check what she had done to my room.
And. It. Was. Wrecked.
She'd messed it up by dumping towels and fake nails and make up and shoes and hair stuff and spa kits and THOSE CREEPY FACE MASKS. All over the floor.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY ROOM!?" I yelled. Normally, I'm calm, but this was pushing the limits.
Nobody wrecks my room. Ever.
The next thing I know, Penelope comes back in and she starts doing one of those high-pitched screams that girls do. Why must they do it? Well, Angie doesn't. Because Angie is sensible. All girls should be like Angie.
"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" she screamed.
"IT'S MY ROOM! YOU'RE JUST SOME STUCK-UP KID WHO'S-"
Sadly, I didn't get to finish my rant because everybody came rushing in to see what was going on. Penelope started crying and Mycroft hugged her. Then Mum and Dad wanted A Word.
They told me how I Should Be Nice To Penelope and I should Welcome Her Into The Household and that I Should Be Willing To Share With Her Because One Day She Might Be My Sister-In-Law.
That had never occurred to me. Penelope could be my sister-in-law one day if she marries Mycroft.
It obviously never occurred to Watson either. So now we're panicking.
She and Mycroft could have kids.
Baby Penelopes. Baby Mycrofts.
This is awful. We need to get rid of this Penelope person and work out what she's up to.

Anyway, we were all eating breakfast (muesli with llama milk.) when somebody knocked on the door.
My Aunt and Uncle were visiting today. And we'd forgotten.
They're even madder than my parents. Just. Look. At. Them.

This is Muffins.

Muffins is exactly the same age as me. Because he was born on the same day. He's an idiot, and is always walking into walls and stuff. And he always wants to start a special club called the Birthday Club, where we have a secret handshake and all of that. So I try to avoid him.

This is my Aunt Cheesecake.

Her real name is Brenda, but she renamed herself Cheesecake. She spends her days eating pie, and she works as a gymnast at the circus. A firebreathing gymnast.

This is my Uncle Brian.

Uncle Brian is a very clever man, my parents told me, since he has a Ph.D. and is a doctor. But he's not a medical doctor, or anything like that. He's a doctor in the game of Twister. Which is a waste of money.

My parents rushed around, hugging Aunt Cheesecake and Uncle Brian. Me and Watson glanced at each other.
Then next thing we know is that Muffins comes bouncing over to us.
"Sherlock!" he cried, and tried to hug me.
"Go away, Muffins." I muttered.
"But we're in the Birthday Club! We must stay together all the time!"
For some reason, his parents support this.
"Sherlock and Watson! Hi!" Aunt Cheesecake said. "How's the Birthday Club?"
"It's amazing!" Muffins replied. "Let's hang out, Sherlock!"
"I've got school in ten minutes." I snapped back.
Big mistake.

Later...

Nincompoop, I have no idea why I've brought you to school, and why I'm writing in you at the lunch table.
Muffins came to school with me and Watson. And he's telling everybody about the Birthday Club. Which is bad news.
And he's sitting with us. And he won't shut up.
Diesel and Angie are giving me looks of sympathy, since Muffins is trying to eat spaghetti through his ear.
Me and Watson are pretending we don't know him.
Suddenly, our teacher, Mrs. Jefferson comes over.
This is Mrs. Jefferson:

She's also the founder of the Mycroft Fan Club, since she talks about him all day.
Anyway, she looks at Muffins and cries "Wow, Sherlock! Your cousin is so much like Mycroft!"
"WHAT!?" Me and Watson gasp.
"He looks so much like him! And in class, he acted the same! Muffins' English essay was outstanding. Just like Mycroft."
This is seriously bad news. Everybody is looking at us.
Then Muffin spots you, Nincompoop.
"Look, Miss! Sherlock's English essay!"
And she looks at you-
And reaches out to grab you-
And she's going to take you to look at in her-

[bubiza]

Dear Nincompoop,
I have no idea why I'm so happy to have you back.
But I'm in trouble. Big trouble.
After Mrs. Jefferson took you, I had to get you back before she read it. Or she'd kill me and tell Mum and Dad, who would then kill me even more. So I enrolled the help of Watson, Angie and Diesel.
Muffins was stalking us, and we couldn't get rid of him, so he was there too.
We went over to our classroom, where Mrs. Jefferson was. With you. And she was reading you.
And she was raising her eyebrows.
Ohmigoshshe'sprobablyreadingallaboutherself.
But that annoying asinine Muffins ran into the classroom and said "Sherlock wants his diary back, and he doesn't want you to look at in because he doesn't want to get told off."
So obviously she reads all of you. Finally, she glares at me.
"Sherlock," she begins, "I am so ashamed on how you talk about your family. You should love and care for them. And you insulted Mycroft, and Muffins. And your parents. Mycroft is wonderful, and so smart, but you're obviously jealous of his talents."
I mean, honestly? Why would I be jealous of Mycroft?
Angie, Watson and Diesel came in, and looked at Mrs. Jefferson.
"So you three are also onto this? Detention, all of you."
Great. Now Mum and Dad are going to kill me and Watson. But that Muffins began to cry.
"Oh, please! I don't want a detention!" he sobbed.
"I didn't mean you, Muffins." she smiled back. "Your cousins should be more like you."

So, we had our detention, and it was incredibly boring. Us four sat at the back, while Mrs. Jefferson marked books, and then wrote a letter for Mum and Dad, explaining about how cruel I was. I also had to write a letter of apology to Mycroft, so I had an idea that could help our investigation about Penelope. This is what I wrote:

Dearest Mycroft,
I have booked a table at the restaurant in town, for tomorrow night at eight, and I was hoping that you would come with me. We should talk about everything, and also the future.
Love,
Penelope
x

"Do you think that's OK?" I asked the others.
"You'll need to edit it." Angie said. "Let me." So I gave it to her.
"And I'll write one from Penelope." Watson suggested. This is what he wrote.

Penelope,
I was hoping we could dine at the restaurant in town tomorrow at eight. I've booked the table, and I'm paying, so don't argue about it.
Hope you can make it,
Mycroft

Diesel said he would edit it, so I let him.
Then, for the letter of apology, I just scribbled down:

To Mycroft,
I am sorry.
Sherlock.
PS: The above is a lie.

Angie and Diesel had finished editing the letters. It was quite good what they did. Angie put some dodgy perfume on the letter, but Diesel... His was amazing.

Oh my beautiful Penelope,
Your eyes are like the ocean, and your fur is like the blossom on the apple tree. I was hoping we could dine at the restaurant in town tomorrow at eight, you and me. I've booked the table, and I'm paying, so don't argue about it, my darling.
Hope you can make it, my princess,
Mycroft

So, our plan was complete. We just needed to put it into action.
Mrs. Jefferson let us go, and I just flashed her my apology, covering the PS bit.
But there's still the other letter.
Oh well. My parents won't get it until tomorrow.
Me, Watson and Diesel are staying over at Angie's tonight. Mum and Dad said it was OK, because Muffins and his parents need to sleep somewhere. So they're in Watson's room.
Tell you more tomorrow,
Sherlock.

[honeybug]

WHY AM I HOOKED ON A STORY ABOUT A HOLMES-WANNABE WHO WANTS TO FIND OUT THE DEATHLY SECRET OF HIS PERFECT BROTHER'S INCREDIBLY POSH GIRLFRIEND?!

But... yes I am. At the beginning I gave it an 8, because it didn't seem like my kind of thing, but I'll raise it to 9 now.

[bubiza]

WHY AM I HOOKED ON A STORY ABOUT A HOLMES-WANNABE WHO WANTS TO FIND OUT THE DEATHLY SECRET OF HIS PERFECT BROTHER'S INCREDIBLY POSH GIRLFRIEND?!

But... yes I am. At the beginning I gave it an 8, because it didn't seem like my kind of thing, but I'll raise it to 9 now.

THANK YOU PACO!

[bubiza]

Dear Nincompoop,
Our plan is all set and ready to go. I'm writing this at Angie's house right now.
Watson gave the notes to Mycroft and Penelope, and booked two tables at the restaurant for tomorrow.
One for them, and one for us, so we can keep an eye on things.
Meanwhile, I'm trying to work out what to do about the letter that Mrs. Jefferson's going to send to my parents. Mycroft has always been their favorite, and I'm probably going to get into trouble.
But you know what? I don't care. It will be worth it.
Diesel seems to be really happy, and he's not even near a computer, which is strange. Diesel's never happy. There's too many mysteries around, so I shall make a list of them.
1. Penelope and her intentions
2. Diesel and his unexplained happiness
3. Why the teachers love Mycroft so much.
4. Why my family is so strange. *With the exception of Watson.*

Watson's just come in saying that Diesel was skipping around the kitchen.
This is strange. What if Penelope brainwashed him? Then what would I do?
Maybe he's just happy to be away from Muffins. I know I am.
But still... I'm not skipping around like he is. Watson's suggested asking him, so I might later. But Angie's ordered pizza, and I'm hungry, so I'll be back.

Later...

It is now midnight. Us four are in Angie's living room in sleeping bags. Angie's parents are upstairs, asleep.
The others are talking, but I'm thinking.
Thinking about all the mysteries that I need to solve.
Diesel is still extremely happy, and seems to be bouncing around still. Whatever's making him happy seems to be working.
Although, it is rather distracting.
"Are you OK, Sherlock?" Watson asks. Everybody turns to me.
"Why wouldn't I be?" I reply, looking down at you.
You know Nincompoop, you're not as bad as I thought you would be. I'm kind of warming up to you.
But enough of this ahh-how-cute business, and we better try and work out what's going on.
"What's the plan?" Angie said.
"Simple. We go to this restaurant tomorrow, eavesdrop of their conversation, and we move on depending on what we find out." I reply.
"Sounds good." Watson replies, and then he begins to fall asleep.
I suppose I better get some shut-eye too, Nincompoop. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day, with Penelope and this letter and seeing Muffins tomorrow.
Yay, I can't wait to see him again.
Sherlock.

[Forever Insane]

Userame: Forever Insane
Rate out of 10: 10...this is so interesting and you just started it
Who's ya favorite charrie? Diesel
How do I improve? its good
Are you a stalker? o.O of course
Insert your favorite meme in the space below: don't really know what this means, sorry
Any Extra Info that you feel like talking about: Muffin should have a sister who is intelligent, you need some intelligence to balance the crazy

[bubiza]

Userame: Forever Insane
Rate out of 10: 10...this is so interesting and you just started it
Who's ya favorite charrie? Diesel
How do I improve? its good
Are you a stalker? o.O of course
Insert your favorite meme in the space below: don't really know what this means, sorry
Any Extra Info that you feel like talking about: Muffin should have a sister who is intelligent, you need some intelligence to balance the crazy

Thanks!
I love it when people reply with such nice things to say!
It makes me happy!

[bubiza]

Dear Nincompoop,
Today is the day. I'm writing in present tense, at school, because this is all actually happening right now. Me and Watson went to school directly from Angie's house, since there was no need for us to go back. Like we'd want to go back home, with Mum and Dad and Muffins.
Anyway. Right now I'm in English, which is one of my worse subjects, after PE. We're supposed to be writing an essay on the following question:

"In what ways is Shakespeare's works influenced the way us writers write today, and if he had not written anything, how much would our lives be different?"

That is just a stupid question. So, this is my answer.

Shakespeare influenced today's writers, since they can just copy the template of Romeo and Juliet and apply it into any stories, even vampire stories. Just by looking at Twilight, as this is obviously the case. So while historians appreciate the Bard's writings, all they need to do to get a copy of Romeo and Juliet is to pick any book up. Except Sherlock Holmes.
And if he had not written anything? Then I wouldn't be writing this essay now, would I?

Sarcasm was made for school essays. So, with that out of the way, I can think about tonight and how this is going to work. Mrs. Jefferson's looking around at us all, making sure we're working. Well, I'm writing, and it....
I hate her. She's just announced to the class "Well, Sherlock seems to have a lot to say on this subject. Look at the speed he's writing."
That awkward moment when thirty heads turn to look at you, with the occasional cough of "Nerd."
I AM AN INTELLECT, YOU MORONS!
Oops. I didn't mean to say that out loud. Why did I just say that? What if I've been talking all along? Well, anyway, Mrs. Jefferson's coming over. Today she stinks of some lavender perfume.
"Sherlock." she says. "I thought we had a word about talking to people nicely."
"We didn't." I reply. "We had a word about how amazing Mycroft is. How amazingly stupid he is."
Everybody's gasping, because shock, horror, I answered back.
"Enough with the sound effects." Angie snaps.
Attagirl. Man, Angie is awesomesause. She's really clever, and amazing at sports. Girls should take a leaf from her book. Because they should be like Angie.
She's-
Mrs. Jefferson picks up my essay and reads it, tutting.
"Not what I was hoping for, Sherlock." she mutters. Then she picks up you, and reads it.
Awkward. Turtle.
She raises her eyebrows, and turns to everybody.
"It seems that Sherlock here likes Angie." she smiles.
And they all start to laugh.
Because when you're my age, "like" has a different meaning.
I didn't mean it like that, or anything. Just in a friendly way.
Things are not going well at all. I'm embarrassed, Angie's embarrassed, and Diesel's....
He's glaring at Mrs. Jefferson. I don't blame him.

Later...

It's after school now. Me, Angie and Watson are walking home together.
Diesel's nowhere to be seen. He said he was feeling sick.
And Muffins is going around to somebody's house. A Year Seven's. He seriously needs to grow up. We were in Year Seven years ago.
"About what happened in English..." I say. "I just meant it in a friendly way."
"That's alright. She shouldn't have picked on you like that." she replies.
"What happened?" Watson asked. Me and Angie explain.
"She's horrible." he replies. "And to think that I'll have her next year..."
Poor Watson. Poor us, even. We have her now.
Anyway, the plan is to go home, get some more information from Mycroft and Penelope, then follow them to the restaurant. And from there, we'll listen into what they have to say.
I have to say that I'm reasonably excited. Because I get a kick out of solving mysteries.

When we get home, we're greeted with Mum, Dad, Aunt Cheesecake and Uncle Brian singing "Princess of China" really loudly and out of tune. Why. Must. My. Parents. And. My. Aunt. And. Uncle. Do. This. To. Me?
Mycroft is in a good mood. Penelope is still around, adding fake nails to her paws, and all of that lark. I think she's getting ready to go.
I'm still not forgiving her for trashing my room. I showed Angie, and she said it was disgusting about the pinkness.
She said after all of this, she'll help me get rid of it.
I said it was OK, since this Penelope will be scrubbing my room out with bleach to remove every last bit of pink and fake nail.
Angie and Watson laughed at this. But I was being serious.
After pretending to eat dinner, "Camel steak, for crying out loud!" Me, Watson and Angie said we were going out.
Mum said it was nice how I was getting a social life.
Dad said it was nice how my girlfriend liked Camel.
"Angie's my friend." I replied. Why must people get so complicated over friendship?
"Really? But what about that other friend? Where's he? Petrol?"
"Diesel." I snapped.
Then my parents and my Aunt and Uncle starting talking about how bad petrol is for the environment. So we left, and went to the park for a bit. Watson and Angie went on the roundabout, and I just watched them, sitting on the swings. For some reason, being in the park reminded me of when I was six.
Oh well.
Then, after about two hours, it was time to go to the restaurant. We silently stalked Mycroft all the way there. It was quite easy, really, since he stank of aftershave. Personally, I think it's a waste of money. He obviously doesn't think so.
Anyway, Nincompoop, I'm about to watch what happens, so you'll have to wait.
Until next time,
Sherlock.

[bubiza]

Dear Nincompoop,

We're sitting at a table now, pretending to order something.
Diesel is yet to show up. Mycroft and Penelope are sitting over there. But you don't have eyes, so you can't see. Ha.
Sorry, I'm just all excited. Wait, I never get excited.
Oh well.
"You do know, the only way we can do this," Watson muttered, "is if we do some sort of entertainment."
"What?" Angie asked.
"He's right." I muttered, sadly. "We can't hear them over this noise, and if we go over, we'll get arrested for stalking."
"Yay." she replied.
Five minutes later, we were dressed up in some random clothes we could find where people had left their coats.
I was in this awesome trench jacket. Angie was in an aviator coat. And Watson had a Coldplay-replica jacket.
It was awesome. Anyway, after adding some finishing touches to our disguise, (putting on hats) we looked amazing.
Angie said I lived up to my name. I don't know whether that's good or not.

Anyway, we went up to some fat dude who ran the place. This is what he looked like.

OK, he wasn't that fat, but that's what he looked like.
He told us we needed to sing.
Angie and Watson refused. So that left me. To sing a solo in some posh restaurant.
And the only song I know is "Swallowed in the Sea." by Coldplay.
It's strange how my family are obsessed with Coldplay so much. Oh well. They're awesome.
So Mr. Fat Guy comes in front of everybody and says, "A song. By this young man here." And this, Nincompoop, was when those music lessons my parents sent me to came in handy.
They forced me to learn piano and violin. I quit piano ages ago, but got to the top grade. Same with violin, except I've kept that up. It helps me think. Mum and Dad said if I wanted, I could pursue a career in violin, since I'm good enough.
But I don't want to. I want to become a detective.
Told you I was an intellect.
So here I am, singing "Swallowed in the Sea." in some posh place, playing the piano, with Mr. Fat Guy whispering "Make it more powerful! Aim it at a lady!"
And the only girl in there was Angie. No way was I going to sing to Penelope, or some random old person.
So, there's me, awkwardly singing to Angie. Watson's doing some improvised dancing so he can here Mycroft and Penelope.
And then, next thing I know, Mr. Fat Guy's pushing Angie towards me.
Then, lots of things happen.
First, Diesel comes in, and spots me singing to Angie, who is now really close to me, with Mr. Fat Guy close behind.
Watson is sitting under Mycroft's table so he can eavesdrop. Good Watson.
Then I notice that Mrs. Jefferson is sitting at a table, clasping her hands together.
If she finds out that it's me, then I'll probably end up in some musical for Christmas next year.
Then Mr. Fat Guy literally pushes Angie in my face. And he just acts like he was walking past, so it looks like I grabbed her.
And Diesel gives me this look.
And then...
Oh... Oooh...
I realize-
That he wasn't glaring at Mrs. Jefferson before.
He was glaring at me.
And -
Then that means -
What -
But -
No, he can't possibly -

And then everything happens so fast.
Angie pulls away from me, because this is so awkward, and then Diesel comes charging over, growling.
He never growls.
And he suddenly snaps out of it, and tries to stop, but crashes into me.
And my hat that I borrowed comes off.
And everybody sees who I am.
Then Mycroft, Penelope and Mrs. Jefferson, alongside others, come running over to us. But as Mycroft and Penelope stood up, they knocked the table over, trapping Watson, who's getting crushed.
And Diesel's muttering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I messed up your plan..."
And I'm saying, "It doesn't matter."
And Angie's trying to get away to help Watson, but can't. She's getting pushed about.
And I turn to Diesel and point to Angie.
And he runs over to her, pushing everybody out the way.
Because there's a stampede.
But then Diesel pushes Mrs. Jefferson. And she goes flying.
And then this has turned into a disaster. And I can't do anything.
Mr. Fat Guy is cursing really loudly.
And Mycroft comes up to me.
And smacks me. Hard. But then Penelope drags him away before he can do anything else to me.
And if things couldn't get any worse, Mum and Dad come rushing in, waving an envelope.
"SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERLOCK!" they scream.
I think I'm dead.
Goodbye, Nincompoop. My ghost will haunt you.
Sherlock.