Dear Nincompoop: The Journal Of Sherlock.

[bubiza]

Heya! *Rawr :3*
Just writing a new entry now. In the mean time, if you want to see the rendition of "Hurts Like Heaven" that I based their performance on, it's here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W1g6lnuUFNA
It's epic.
So... Yeah. I better get cracking with this new entry.

[bubiza]

Dear Nincompoop,
It turns out that half the school have found out about us getting a record deal. As soon as I walked through the door, half the class ran towards me, screaming and being like, "Would you like some chocolate?" or "I've always wanted to be your friend, Sherlock! I love your scarf!"
I just ignored them, and sat down at my desk at the back. I sit at the back, on some threesome row with Angie and Diesel. Apparently those two had had the same trouble as me. Then, all of a sudden, without any warning, this girl called Roxie came over to my desk and sat on it.
This is Roxie:

Roxie's the most popular girl in the class, because she's really loud and says stupid things like "OMG!" and screams over famous people in magazines *Not Coldplay, though* and she spends all day straightening her fur and dying it. And she's always going out with random people. She and Angie don't get on whatsoever. It started with a fight in Juniors, which involved Roxie calling Angie a Not Very Nice Word *according to the teacher* in a game of hockey, and Angie whacked her with the hockey stick, causing Roxie to break her leg. From then on, the two became enemies.
So, here's Roxie, sitting on my desk, on my books, *English, Maths, Science, History, French and an Agatha Christie, if you wanted to know* flicking her hair and making her eyes go all big.
"What ya doin' tonight, Sherlock?" she asked.
"And you want to know because...?" I replied.
"Just wondering. Do you want to go to McDonald's with me?"
I seriously hate Roxie. She has a brain the size of a particle and has some chav accent. And she's always disrupting class by shouting out and answering the teachers back. So why exactly does she want to go to McDonald's with me?
"No thanks." I replied, coolly. "I don't do junk food."
True. Junk food is overrated, and causes medical issues in later life. So I just eat either Mum's stuff if I can't get out of it, or I'll grab a sandwich or a salad or some other thing I can make out of the things in the kitchen. Which isn't a lot.
"Well, do you want to come round to mine and listen to my CD's? I have One Direction."
"Who are they?" I snapped.
"A band. They're so cute... Well, not as much as you."
What the..? Just a week ago, she was calling me a nerd.
"Seriously, Roxie, get off my desk. I don't want to do anything with you whatsoever. Got it? I don't care if Coldplay are having a gig in your garden, so leave me alone." That was my rant, and she just stared at me.
"But Sherlock..." she whined, no going flappety-flap with her eyelids.
"Go away, noob brain." Angie suddenly shouted. "He doesn't want you around, so get lost."
"Oh really? What do you know, you-" Roxie replied, using a Not Very Nice Word. The next thing I know, those two are having a massive fight with each other. Me and Diesel exchanged glances. We were definitely Team Angie.
Then suddenly, this dude walks in who we've never seen before in our lives, and sits at the teacher's desk and coughs.
"This is not how I hoped to start." he said, glaring at Angie and Roxie. "This can wait until playtime."
WE DON'T DO PLAYTIME AT SECONDARY SCHOOL!
He's obviously from a Primary School, because he sticks on the board "Classroom Rules" which he obviously made on Microsoft Word.
And to add insult, he did them in Comic Sans MS. And used the stupid clipart pictures.
"My name is Mr. Smith." he says. "I am your new teacher, since Mrs. Jefferson has retired after an incident in a restaurant. I have devised a seating plan for you to sit in based on some notes left by Mrs. Jefferson, which is so I can learn your names, and you will also be safe."
HE IS SUCH A CREEP! WHY DOES HE CARE ABOUT US BEING SAFE?
And by the way, Nincompoop, this is Mr. Smith:

Anyway, he placed me in front of his desk next to a girl called Candy, who is really quiet and clever and nerdy.
This is Candy:

If we were all ponies, she'd be Fluttershy. I'd be Doctor Whooves, Diesel would be Spike, and Angie would probably be a mixture of Rainbow Dash and Trixie.
*cough*Idefinatlydonotwatchmylittleponyfriendshipismagicbecauseiamaninntellect*cough*
Angie is placed next to Roxie, at the front in the other side from me. I could possibly pass notes to her, but for Diesel, I can't.
He's sitting at the back, all alone. Poor Diesel.
Still, at least he isn't next to some nerd. Or Roxie. Although Candy isn't too bad. She doesn't say much, and just gets on with her work.
We get on with our lessons in silence, because Mr. Smith is walking around, putting a paw to his mouth. Well, almost silence. Angie and Roxie are fighting over a rubber. He gives them both detention.
After me and Candy have done our work, she taps me on the shoulder.
"Do you want to play chess?" she asks.
"OK." I reply.
I beat her, although she is pretty good. I hear Roxie mutter something, and the next thing we know there's this SMACK.
Mr. Smith gives Angie a week's detention, and gives us a lecture about keeping our paws to ourselves.
When we're walking home from school, after waiting an hour for Angie because of her detention, she tells me the reason she smacked Roxie.
"She was asking for it. She called you a nerd. I won't let anybody call you a nerd, Sherlock. Because you're not."
"Thanks." I reply.
We stop off at the park, and sit on the swings. Roxie's there, surprise surprise, and she's having a go at some kid, pulling all her books onto the floor and stamping on them.
Then I notice it's Candy. Do I do something or not?
I better, since I sit next to her now, and also because she's good at playing chess with. I walk over, and Diesel randomly follows me, because he has a habit of doing so.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"Just having a talk with the nerd." Roxie sneers. "She's broken the little agreement we had. About homework."
"I-I'm sorry, Roxie, but I've been busy with mine, and also my Mum's not well and I had to sort out the house and my brother and..." Candy stammers.
"Shut up." Roxie snaps.
"Leave her alone, Roxie. Do your own homework." I reply. Candy looks up at me, with admiration.
I suddenly feel all macho. Awkward.
Suddenly, Roxie spots Diesel and goes over to him. "Hey, big guy." she says.
"Um... Hi, Roxie."
"Doing anything?"
"No."
"Want to go and eat out somewhere? McDonald's?"
IS SHE JUST DESPERATE?
"Yeah..." Diesel mutters. He loves junk food.
"See you there tonight." she mutters, and gives him some wink and strolls off.
I want to be sick.
Diesel's thinking about junk food, and Angie's staring at him. Watson's just got some "What?" look on his face.
Candy smiles at me, then picks up her books and leaves.

So, yeah, that was my day, pretty much.
New teacher, blah blah blah.
Mycroft's still isn't back. He must have moved in or something.
Anyway, my hand hurts, so I'm going to stop writing now.
Yours,
Sherlock.

[AbbeyDawn]

^_^ My totally random idea! (Interesting) Good post! I am a Major Stalker now ^^

[bubiza]

^_^ My totally random idea! (Interesting) Good post! I am a Major Stalker now ^^

Aww. Thank you!
I've never had a stalker before. It is an honor. So you get an award for being my second official stalker. *gives award*
And Paco comes first, and gets some massive award.

[honeybug]

Lols, stfu Llama. I've been stalking all your posts since you've joined CS. o.O

[AbbeyDawn]

*Takes award* Thank you. ^^ Really good journal *Waits for some more*

(YAY, Stalker award ^^)

[bubiza]

More is coming... *epic ninja face*
And also, thanks to animetriplicate for giving me Diesel and Chris *x3*
anastasia55555 for giving me Bowie
Jay Hawk for giving me Guy
The Pound for giving me Will
Applejack for giving me Jonny.
And anybody else who gave me items.
YOU HAVE MADE THIS 20% COOLER.

[bubiza]

Dear Nincompoop,
We were eating dinner tonight with Bowie, since he wanted to have a meeting about Wolfhound's image. Yay.
Anyway, it was some sort of chicken-pork-lamb-beef thing in some sort of spicy tomato sauce with something else in when Aunt Cheesecake started screaming.
"THE BABY'S COMING!"
Wow. What great timing. Bowie looked as if he was going to vomit. Then Muffins and Uncle Brian and Dad started screaming and Mum told Watson to help Aunt Cheesecake give birth, instead of calling an ambulance. Me and Bowie just left the room before anybody noticed, and went up to my room to wait for Diesel and Angie to come round.
"So..." Bowie muttered. "This is awkward..."
"I know." I replied. Then the doorbell rang, and I went to answer it, thinking it would be Diesel and Angie.
Instead, it was Candy.
"Hi. I just wanted to say thanks for before."
"It's alright." Aunt Cheesecake was screaming and Dad was singing "Ten Green Bottles".
"Is everything OK? Is somebody getting hurt?"
"No. She's... having a baby. Let's just go upstairs."

As soon as Candy went into my room, she spotted Bowie.
"Pleased to meet you. I am Bowie, Steve's manager. Do you have any musical talent?" he said, giving Candy a business card.
WHY CAN'T HE GET MY NAME RIGHT? HUH?
"It's Sherlock... And no... I never knew Sherlock had a record deal..."
"Really? It was all over the magazines, the new band Wolfhound, with his friends. Watson, Petrol and Angel. They're better than all the other bands, Coldplay for example. Steve's on bass, with Petrol lead guitarist, and Angel on drums, and Watson singing."
Seriously. That dude needs to shut up. And learn our names. He remembered Watson fine. And since when did I become bass? Huh?
"That's nice..." I could see that Candy wasn't really interested, and she instead started looking at my bookshelf. She got a book and started to read it.
Then Angie and Diesel arrived, looking pretty shaken. Angie came in, and sat down. You see, Nincompoop, they normally let themselves in round the back, which involves going through the kitchen.
"What was going on?" Angie asked.
"She's busy. Where's Diesel?" I replied.
"He's being sick."
Niiiiiiiiiice.

Finally, Diesel came through, pretty shaken up, and then Bowie had a Marvelous Idea. He called all the newspapers and was on the phone for ages. Finally, he hung up.
"I've called the press to cover this moment. Just think, lead singer Watson is saving lives. And there's going to be a press conference tomorrow, and I want her to come." he said, pointing at Candy.
"W-why?" she asked, shocked.
"You'll see. And I've got some more people coming too, to surprise you all."
This "surprise" doesn't sound too good.
Anyway, Nincompoop, I don't feel like writing anymore right now, so I'll report more later.
Yours,
Sherlock.
PS: I've just noticed how every single girl I know has a name that ends in -ie, -e or -y.
Angie
Roxie
Candy
Penelope
That is seriously cheesy.

[bubiza]

Dear Nincompoop,
Aunt Cheesecake had her baby last night. It was a girl, and I feel sorry for the poor kid.
They named her Journey.
This is Journey:

I was trying to get them to give her a name that didn't end in an -ie, an -e or a -y, but they didn't listen. Apparently, life is a journey and the child shall represent this.
Bowie managed to get the press involved. They came swarming over, taking pictures of Journey and Watson. And my Mum. I was only in one of them. Well, half my ear was. And Bowie rewrote what had happened and exaggerated. LOOK WHAT THE NEWSPAPERS WROTE:

WOLFHOUND STAR WATSON DELIVERS BABY IN A "LIFE AND DEATH" SITUATION
Lead singer of the band Wolfhound, Watson, last night delivered a baby in a kitchen.
Watson was eating his dinner last night with fellow band mate Steve and manager Bowie when his Aunt felt the baby coming. Whilst Steve ran off, leaving her in a critical condition, Watson's natural instinct kicked into action as he delivered the baby. The girl, named Journey, was born healthily, but without Watson, this would have not been the case.
"I could see my life flash before me." his Aunt Chocolate said afterwards. "Without my nephew, I would have died." She remains stable, and is resting at Watson's home, "taking it easy by watching TV and eating chocolate" we can reveal.
Watson's mother, who was present at the time, told us exclusively: "There was no possible way to call an ambulance or take her to hospital, and Watson just sprang into action. I didn't need to ask him."
Watson said, "I'm glad I saved two lives, and it's all in a day's work, really." So is this all we're going to see of the talented teenager, who is lead singer of band Wolfound?
"Of course not." manager Bowie replied. "We're releasing an album, and also going on tour, which you shouldn't miss. The tickets are going on sale next Monday, and you can find them on my personal website. Watson is like a son to me, talented and amazing and clever, and I see myself in him. I think Coldplay, another band that I manage, aren't as good as Wolfhound. Wolfhound are ten times better, so remember to buy merchandise on the official website."

WHAT THE-
1. My name is Sherlock. S-H-E-R-L-O-C-K. And it's Aunt Cheesecake.
2. I did not run off. I was sent out.
3. She was never in a critical condition. Ever. Watson told me.
4. Watson never said that. He declined to comment. Bowie re-wrote his bit.
5. IS BOWIE TRYING TO CASH IN ON MY AUNT HAVING A BABY OR WHAT?
6. Since when were we going on tour? When?
7. Now Coldplay are going to hate us. And I need to find where they live so I can apologize for the fact that our manager is rubbish.

Watson agreed that it's out of order what Bowie did. But we have to stay with him due to the fact Mum signed the contract forcing us to work for him until we're dropped. After lunch, we went to our confrence in front of the press. And it was awful.
Roxie was there, all dressed up looking stupid, posing for the cameras, saying about how she was Diesel's best friend.
"We've always been friends, since Nursery. I've been with him all the way." That is a lie. Diesel hates her. "And we're getting serious now. Look, here's a picture of us going out the other day." The press seemed to be loving her.
Candy was there too, and she looked completely different. And kinda... sad. The press were taking pictures of her too.
"I hate this, Sherlock! I feel so sorry for you, having to do this." She'd been dressed up in some wig and dress.
"I know. It sucks, right?" I replied.
"That Bowie guy... He's horrible. He told me to pretend to be your girlfriend, and he gave me lines to say. And if I muck it up, he said he'd sue me. And Roxie's supposed to be Diesel's girlfriend. And this random dude called Darius is supposed to be Angie's boyfriend. Watson's alright, because he wants all the girls to go mad for him."
So Bowie's been blackmailing everybody? JUST WAIT UNTIL I GET MY PAWS ON HIM.
Except legal contracts stop me from doing so.
I HATE THE LAW.

Anyway, we had to go in this room, and were given water to drink, and basically we sat down with our "partners" standing in this crowd whilst a bunch of reporters asked Bowie about us and he just lied. Then Candy had to say how amazing we were and how she was supporting us all the way. Roxie over-did her speech, yakking on about how she loved Diesel so much and was so proud.
Angie looked as if she wanted to punch her, but couldn't. Then this Darius creep who models for catalogs said how he was our number one fan.
This is Darius:


After about two hours, it finished. I am so glad to be back home, away from the press and Bowie. I just need to find Coldplay and apologize about Bowie.
Mycroft's still not back, and hasn't called. Something's not right. The house doesn't feel the same without him. There's nobody to argue with or hate. I'll look for him tomorrow.
Yours,
Sherlock.

[bubiza]

Dear Nincompoop,
Muffins and his family left today. Me and Waton silently celebrated, and then the attention turned to Mycroft, who still isn't back. He hasn't called either, which is strange.
When we go places, we always call our parents to stop them panicking. Because when they panic, they PANIC. And let everybody know about it.
That's what they were doing. Screaming and hyperventilating and blowing into bags. And this was ten minutes before we were meant to be at school.
But then Mum told me and Watson we needed to go and find Mycroft. Essentially, bunk off school while we go to Penelope's house.
So we agreed. I don't fancy seeing Mr. Smith, especially since we missed school yesterday for that press conference thingy. Angie and Diesel came running into our house, because the press was stalking them. They normally come round ours so we can walk to school together, so we filled them in on the plan and decided we'd stuff school to find Mycroft.
Nincompoop, I do not recommend you do this. That is all.
We walked outside and were met with people taking photos of us and shouting "Steve! Petrol! Angel! Watson!"
Why can nobody get our names right? And this sudden fame sucks. Badly. Somebody stuffed a microphone in my face and I just snapped.
"Look. Leave us alone, alright? And get our names right. It's Sherlock. S-H-E-R-L-O-C-K. And Diesel and Angie." The media went mad again, but let us past.
I seriously need to find a way of canceling legal contracts. And fast.

We headed off to the posh side of town, where all the rich people live in their fancy houses and cut their posh hedges and have their little diddums or whatever they call them do extra-curricular activities such as piano and horse riding. We headed to Penelope's house manor and knocked on the door.
It had a lion's head on it, for goodness' sake. Nobody has a lion head knocker on their door.
Well, Penelope does, anyway.
This dog answered the door and bowed down at us.
"Um, hi, Penelope's mum..." Diesel muttered.
"Oh no, I'm Penelope's maid." she replied. "My name is Maud."
This is Maud.

Angie started laughing all of a sudden.
"What?" I asked
"Sorry... But she's called Maud... Nobody's called Maud..."
I silently faceplamed, then turned back to Maud.
"Can we speak to Mycroft? He's staying over, I think." Watson said, ignoring Angie.
"He was, but him and Penelope have gone to Buenos Aries on holiday." Maud replied.
What? WHAT?
Mycroft is on holiday in fancy Buenos Aries while we are stuck HERE?
He could have told us.

We walked back to our house. Mum opened the door and ran over.
"Where's my little Mycroft?" she asked, panicking.
"He's in Argentina on holiday with Penelope." I replied.
"Well go and get him. All of you."
"WHAT?"
"School can wait. Exams can wait. Go to Argentina and get my Mycroft back home." Mum said, sniffing. "I miss him soooo much."
I think Mum has forgotten that Mycroft is 23, not a puppy.
She ran inside, beckoning us to follow and pulled out a Macbook.
Since when did we have a Macbook? Or a computer, for that matter. We've never been allowed one. Apparently they mess with your minds.
Then Mum started searching for flights to Argentina, and then brought four child tickets.
"Sherlock, Angie and Diesel, you'll need to pretend that you're still 15. The economy won't allow you to be adults."
It's strange that my Mum will manage to make a Macbook appear, tell us school doesn't matter and break the law in order for us to go and visit Mycroft in Argentina.
"The plane leaves in 5 hours, so you better get packing. I'll explain to your parents, Angie and Diesel." Dad then ran in and handed us £10,000.
SINCE WHEN DID WE HAVE £10,000 SPARE TO HAND OUT TO VISIT MYCROFT? NEXT THING WE'LL FIND OUT IS WE'RE DIRECT RELATIVES TO THE QUEEN.
We ran around like maniacs, throwing clothes into suitcases. Angie and Diesel are buying stuff there.
Lucky. Argentina don't need to worry about the Euro. You could probably buy a pizza there for 10p.
Finally, Mum practically kicked us and the suitcases out of the house and Dad drove us to Heathrow.
I'll write more later, Nincompoop. I'm tired and I feel sick when I write in the car.
Yours,
Sherlock.