“My dear Watson”…
said Steven ‘Sherlock’ Washer as we stood on the doorstep of Marisa Murgatroyd’s tony dwelling, “I have a hunch that today will be especially stimulating.”
“How so?” I inquired.
Steven took a long draught on his meerschaum pipe, and answered me with a look that could only be described as mischievous.
At that moment the door opened and a worried-looking young man hurried us inside.
Dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, it seemed as if he had not shaved in several days.
“Come in. Come in. Did anyone see you?”
“No. I was as discreet as you requested in your email”, said Washer. “Now take me to Marisa.”
I grabbed Washer’s umbrella and pipe as he strode past me into the great room, taking in the aroma of cinnamon-flavored coffee and the sounds of worried murmerers that filled the estate. There were 8 other people gathered around Marisa, all seemingly in their own worlds. Yet they were dressed as if they had leaped out of the pages of a dime store novel.
“You”, suddenly shouted Steven, pointing at a portly blond-headed, pony-tailed man inexplicably wearing a set of horns, “bring me a cup of vanilla chai. Hot.”
“Sure” said the man known as Andy. “Would you like a mind map with that?”
“One sugar will suffice. Miss Murgatroyd. Why are all these people gathered about you?”
Marisa lifted her head and pointed to her throat, indicating that she had lost her voice, then scribbled on a pad, tore off the page and handed it to Washer. He read it quickly, folded it and placed it in his waistcoat pocket.
“So you have asked me to join this Video Superhero summit and discover the reason for your lost voice. That I will do. But first I must know what you have tried thus far to solve your dilemma.
She furiously scribbled on her pad, then held it up for all to see.
I read it out loud. “No time. All of these superheroes have vowed to help me teach how to make millions of dollars with video marketing, but Mr. Washer, I need you to help me speak to my tribe so that I may take full advantage of the offer they have so generously made.”
“But why have they made this offer, Miss Murgatroyd? You seem to have everything you need, minus your voice, that is.” Washer was not going to make this easy for her.
Marisa wrote again, and again I interpreted her increasingly erratic scribblings. I was glad for being a doctor.
“The economy has changed forever. Small business must adapt or die. Video Marketing can not only save them individually, but turn this entire economy around.
Steven narrowed his vision and spoke. “Then you can count on me, Miss Murgatroyd. I will not only restore your voice, I will help you reach as many businesses as have receptive ears and forward-thinking minds. But first I must know how the others assembled here will help. Watson, see to Marisa’s throat while I familiarize myself with the case. The Game’s Afoot!”
“Wait!,” shouted a bare-chested young man with a Ralph Maccio bandana and hands held up in a defensive karate pose. “How do we know that her condition isn’t contagious?”
“It isn’t, Mr. Wedmore.”
“How did you know my name, Mr. Washer?”
“Elementary. James Wedmore, the YouTube marketing expert, is known as a kettle bell enthusiast. The definition in your biceps are the classic formation gained by working out 1 hour per day with a certain brand of kettle bell which can only be obtained at the Sports Authority. Because that establishment has distribution centers only in California, your home state, the connection was obvious.”
Washer fixed his gaze on the rest of the room. Indeed, those assembled seemed a veritable who’s who in the video marketing world. There was Jason Fladlien, Marshall Wayne, Andy Jenkins, Pete Williams, Jody Jelas, Matthew Peters, and James Wedmore. Standing out among them was an extremely large, green overly-muscular creature who bore a striking resemblance to Don Crowther. And he did not look pleased as he spoke up.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Cure her!”
“Washer”, said I. “This might not be as easy as you had hoped.”
“Nonsense, Watson. In fact I have already solved the case. The answer has been under our very noses all the while.”
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
I think Marisa has a mild case of dysdiadocokinesis and a mild inflammation in the uncus of the hyppocampal gyrus. It is self-limiting and should be better by Christmas.
Unrelated to the above but possibly related to Marisa, she might know that in the 1930’s and 40’s there was a pair of British comedians, Murgatroyd and Winterbottom who were many a times heard on the British and South African radio.
I knew there’d be a real doctor in the house somewhere :))
Shouldn’t that vanilla chai been shaken, not stirred?
Oh wait, that is a different guy whose skirt chasing exploits would NEVER have been tolerated at the elementary level… 🙂
LOL! Actually, check out the site. Mr. Bond is represented!
Oh My God
Hey Steve WOW That is deep, and I love the group you hang out with.
And with great respect, I am thankful to work with you.
Nice job solving the mystery.
What type of vanilla chai do you recommend?
Thanks, Robert! It was fun introducing them this way.
If you’re interested in my favorite blend of tea, here it is:
http://www.goldenmoontea.com/madagascar.html