2020. Sherlock Homo and Dr. Bottson are in Scotland - land of mystery, myth, clever advertising, and because I'm homophonic and wanted to say my croft homes. For two months there have been slightly fewer deaths than last year, and fears are growing that a new unprecedented plague of immortality virus is stalking the land. But one man is determined to get to the bottom...
Dr.B:- Astounding Homo! Slightly fewer deaths than last year. Perhaps the threat of this immortality virus is real then after all? -
SH:- Not so fast, Bottson. The quarterly immortality report has been cancelled due to 'ongoing analysis'. Only adding up the months previously published will reveal the answer. -
Dr.B:- And is one number less than the other? -
SH:- Yes Bottson. One number is less than the other. And one number is more than the other. And this is always the case. Unless the numbers are the same. Or there is only one number. Or -
Dr. Bottson marvelled at the singular mind of coked up genius rambling inanely. How was it that one person could add up, and yet a dead horse couldn't? That was something that required 'ongoing analysis' he chortled to himself. Suddenly -
SH:- Bottson! Time is for my essence! Get me a handsome cabbie! he ejaculated.
It seemed the first wave of immortality virus had had little effect in reality. But that proved not to be the general perception. Atavisitic fears of a vast and endlessly tedious eternity of commonplaces loomed large amongst the population. The thick plottened, and government responded with panic, and hasty erections of emergency euthanasia 'Shipman' hospitals, only for them to remain empty.
Dr.B:- I say Homo! Who can be behind this madness? -
SH:- It bears all the hallmarks of my arch nemesis, Professor Twatterati -
Dr.B:- No!
SH:- Yes!
Dr.B:- No!
SH:- Yes!
After a few days of social arguing to determine who was like Hitler and who was like Stalin, and having eventually unblocked each other, the two were playing chess. And you couldn't be bothered to make it better than that.
SH:- Bottson! In your extensive studies at medical school, did you ever stumble across what would happen if medicine were stopped? Even for a few months? -
Dr.B:- Why I knew that before medical school. A child would know it. People would die in their thousands. You don't mean to say -
SH:- Exactly! This will be Professor Twatterati's next move. He will do everything in his power to encourage maximum hospital attendance. To continue his evil plan of immortality. -
Dr.B:- But Homo! Thousands of people won't die! They'll be cured at stage 2! They'll have their tickers reset at A & E! They'll -
SH:- Fiendish indeed! Get me Scotland Yard. And a nice house by a loch. Professor Twatterati is one step ahead of us! -
Dr.B:- But what should we do? -
SH:- We must clear all the hospital beds overnight and send them amongst the vulnerable in densely populated enclosed buildings with poor ventilation -
Dr.B:- You don't mean....old folks' homes? -
SH:- Homo. But yes. The balance must be restored or immortality will be the death of us. we can't let that happen!
At last excess deaths rose above the norm, but the fear of immortality remained. Homo puffed away at the midges with tobacco from a persian slipper, and things like that but better written.
Dr.B:- I say Homo. If only there were some sort of test to determine who had or hadn't the immortality virus. Then we could follow the science -
SH:- My dear Bottson, prescience can only be followed, but an accurate test in advance would indeed be unprecedented, as it would require time travel -
Dr.B:- You're thinking of Dr.WHO -
SH:- Indeed. You may as well toss that very coin you're fumbling with, thinking about biscuits -
Dr.B:- Astounding Homo! But how could you know? -
SH:- Have a look in the mirror. If you can find one wide enough.
Dr.B:- But then what can it be, Homo? Has the immortality virus gone? I say I do wish you'd drop that lock down and stop fiddling with the combination -
The combination clicked open and the lock fell to the floor. Homo woke from his drug addled reverie with a start.
SH:- Bottson! In many ways this immortality virus is like a combination lock. That's if you think one is many. Subsequent spins will only make it further from the combination that threatens immortality. That is until subsequent subsequent spins make it closer again. But that is a lot more spins. The virus -
Dr.Bottson checked the literature on rehabilitation. It was tragic that the most brilliant of minds could be so ruined by drugs. But he knew in his heart that nothing would stop Homo now.
SH:- It seems there is no longer any serious threat of mass immortality. But we must cure the perception as well. We must endeavour to make the personal threat of immortality seem less likely! -
Dr.B:- But Homo, what on earth can be done? -
SH:- We shall shut down the economy. Economic deaths will lag, and Professor Twatterati will doubtless attempt to hide them amongst the data. But we can only hope that people will yet feel less at risk of immortality. -
Dr. Bottson sighed in the presence of lunacy as he toasted the buns like he had when fagging at school, the thin layer of lemon curd applied just the way he knew Homo liked it. The world had gone mad and there was little point in anything other than lying back and taking it on the chin. He turned over to see his old friend had too been overcome.
Dr.B:- I say Homo, the real mystery is what you are thinking right now -
SH:- Lemon entry my dear Bottson. Lemon entry.
