THE MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK BRAIN:
The Adventure of Silver
Michael K. Neylon (aka Masem J. Mouse)
Eric. O. Costello - email@example.com
Act I: The Starting Gate
[After the theme song, we fade into a high, overhead shot of a great
in early morning. We dissolve fade (as the strains of "God Save the
Queen" are heard)
to a busy street scene.]
[A subtitle appears: "London, England, 1890." We follow a
horse-drawn cart as it
passes by a building, pausing at the building, which bears a sign reading
Street." The camera turns away from the building, as the anthem plays
out. We see
a pedestrian walking along the street, when he (as well as a young, well
dressed man standing
on the sidewalk) is startled by a sour violin note.]
[He looks up with the bystander, and we cut to the front of a
brownstone. We can
see the front door of the brownstone, over which is a glass panel upon which
"221B." We can also see, in a first-story window, a figure with his
back to us,
sawing away on a violin, producing a sour note roughly once every five notes.
back to the pedestrian, who grimaces, plugs his ears with his fingers, and
[We dissolve to the inside of a cluttered sitting room. A large,
with a mustache is making a vain attempt to read a newspaper, as the violin
(now louder) continues. The figure winces in obvious mental and physical
at each missed chord. We pan right, past a tall figure with an aquiline nose
who is dressed
in a purple robe, and is playing the violin with eyes closed. We continue the
past a large, cluttered desk to a stained table upon which we find various
of scientific equipment (test tubes, burners, etc.)...and a wire cage
very familiar figures.]
[Cut to the cage. Pinky is sitting with his elbows on his knees, and
chin in hands,
dreamily lost in the music, with a very gratified smile on his face. Cut to
who is reacting rather differently; he is frantically stuffing cotton in his
Pinky opens his eyes (we see a tear in one of them) and turns to
Pinky: Ooooh, Brain! (Poit!) Isn't that the most wonderful melody?
Brain: [Who is still engaged in stuffing cotton in his ears -- he is
speaking rather loudly]
I'm afraid you'll have to speak up, Pinky! I am endeavoring to prevent those
sounds from punishing my cranium. [Brain finishes, and folds his arms
across his chest.]
Pinky: [who turns around to look at Brain]
Well, no wonder you can't hear me very well. [He gets up and walks
over to Brain.]
You've got these wads of cotton in your ears! [He reaches down and
plucks the cotton from Brain's ears, just as a particularly sour,
high-pitched note sounds. Brain, wild-eyed, jumps into the air, and lands on
Brain: [Clutching his head in agony.]
MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!
[Cut to the figure in the chair, who finally lowers his paper in
calls out to the violin player.]
Figure: Holmes? Holmes! [The music stops.]
I'm starting to regret I ever wrote that you play the violin well. If my
could hear you now, they'd never believe another word I wrote about you.
[Cut to the tall figure, who puts down his violin on a
Holmes: Forgive me, my dear Watson! I actually was not engaged in violin
[Cut to Brain, who is digging in his ear with a finger, trying to
[Cut back to Holmes]
Holmes: ...but in some researches on the effect of high-frequency sounds on
Watson: Well, it certainly has an effect on ME, Holmes. I'd thought I go
Holmes: Well, the good Mrs. Hudson is coming to restore your tissues with an
cup of tea. [Turns toward the door.]
[We hear the pounding of feet outside the room, and the door is thrown
open, to reveal
an older, portly lady carrying a tray with a teapot, some mugs, biscuits and
silverware. Mrs. Hudson is scowling.]
Mrs. Hudson: Here's your breakfast, MISTER Holmes. I DO wish you wouldn't
violin like that. That mazurka you played earlier shattered every teacup in
house. [She sets the tray down with a bang on a table, and stands
Holmes: [Walking over to the tray and taking one of the
A thousand apologies, my dear Mrs. Hudson! [He walks over to the
cage, breaks off a bit of the biscuit and hands it to Pinky.]
We cannot make scientific progress without a bit of suffering, eh?
[Cut to Brain, who rolls his eyes in exasperation. Cut back to
Holmes: By the way, Mrs. Hudson, would you show our visitor in, before our
[Cut to Mrs. Hudson, who starts in surprise.]
Mrs. Hudson: Err, yes, quite Mr. Holmes....[She exits, in some
Watson: How do you know we have a visitor, Holmes?
Holmes: When the good Mrs. Hudson, who has been our landlady for years now,
on a breakfast with three cups (or mugs, I should say) and spoons, it becomes
that we have a visitor.
[Cut to Brain, who turns to Pinky]
Brain: That, and observing that gentleman waiting on our steps.
[Brain indicates to Pinky, and we cut to a shot showing the
well-dressed young man
we saw earlier standing nervously on the steps in front of the building. We
Mrs. Hudson poke her head out and motion the gentleman in. Cut back to
Brain: Observation, Pinky, pure and simple. He saw him there while he was
the violin. The bit with the spoons and mugs is mere window-dressing, to
the uninformed. Childish, really.
Pinky: [who is nibbling on the biscuit that Holmes gave him]
But Brain, Mr. Holmes must be a really, really smart chap. I mean, why
sorts of people bring him all sorts of tricky problems to solve?
Brain: A matter of selection, Pinky. Some cases, the easier ones, he
he makes excuses for why he can't take the harder cases. The successes are
up by Dr. Watson for a credulous public, the notes on the other cases are
away in dispatch boxes, never to be seen by them. Quiet now, Pinky, we are
about to receive
another "demonstration" of Mr. Holmes' "talents."
[The door to the sitting room opens, and the young man whom we saw on
the steps enters
the room. He looks nervous and scared and his shakes hands with Mr.
Young Man: I do hope you can help me, Mr. Holmes. My name is...
Holmes: [interrupting, with a smile]
I am aware of that already. You are Mr. Jonathan Wilkerson, age 26,
recently marred, and currently the subject of police inquiries regarding the
three nights ago of one Mr. Joshua Merryweather, the senior partner of your
banking house. Pray provide me, however, with the less obvious details.
Wilkerson: Bu-but, that's fantastic Mr. Holmes! I am all those things, and
more, I am innocent!
[Cut to the cage. Pinky is looking on, wide-eyed and agape. Brain is
Pinky: Egad! (Narf!) What a brilliant bit of deductive thinking! How does
Pinky: But Brain! He just identified a complete stranger!
Brain: I would hardly call him a complete stranger, Pinky, when his wanted
is all over the entire city. [Brain indicates a sheet of paper tacked
to the wall next to the cage, showing a caricature
of Mr. Wilkerson, plus all of the relevant details, along with a police
Pinky: [greatly puzzled]
You mean....you mean he's faking it?
Brain: Not quite, Pinky. Mr. Holmes combines a flair for the dramatic with a
like a sponge to produce his meretricious little effects.
[Cut to a POV showing the backs of Brain and Pinky. In the background
we see Holmes
and Wilkerson talking, while Watson takes notes.]
Brain: Holmes' powers of observation, Pinky, are vastly overrated. Observe,
the red circle tattooed on the back of Mr. Wilkerson's hand, which Mr. Holmes
not appear to have noticed.
[Cut to a medium closeup of Wilkerson's hand, showing the circle. Cut
back to Brain.]
Brain: Mr. Wilkerson is not all he appears. That tattoo mark, Pinky,
our "Mr. Wilkerson" is a top assassin with a noted anarchist group.
of the late Mr. Smith was a part of their nefarious plot to undermine
Pinky: Zounds, Brain! [Brings hands up to face in fright]
Aren't you going to tell Mr. Holmes? Or what about the police?
Brain: Don't be ridiculous, Pinky. Unlike Mr. Holmes, I have no reputation.
no name. I would be merely laughed at by Scotland Yard, and sent on my
[Cut back to the behind the back POV. Holmes, Wilkerson and Watson
all shake hands,
and leave the room together.]
Gee, Brain, it's too bad you couldn't become a detective and get Mr. Holmes'
of reputation. [sighs again]
Brain: No, Pinky, Scotland Yard despis-...[looks up quickly, and then
turns to Pinky]
Pinky! Are you pondering what I'm pondering?
Pinky: [looks up, eyes half-closed]
Wuuuuh, I think so, Brain, but you'd never get anyone to believe a little
box could hold that much!
Brain: [grabbing Pinky by the snout and lowering him to Brain's-eye
Let's not travel out of this era in time, shall we, Pinky? [Lets go
of Pinky's snout]
No, Pinky, my path is clear. I must become a detective, beat the great
Holmes to a case, and solve it in a fashion to dazzle the nation! When all
sees my brilliance, they will naturally place me in positions of confidence
From there, domination of the British Empire and the world is a mere
Um, Brain? Where are we going to find a case, considering that no one know
are? Well, besides me, that is! (Narf!)
Why, Pinky, we have a case right under our nose!
Pinky: [cringing, and bringing his hand up to his nose as if to wipe
Eeewwww! Do you have a tissue?
[Brain looks at the camera, turns back to Pinky, and motions him down.
down and Brain flicks Pinky's nose, hard. Pinky's nose vibrates with a loud
and Pinky grabs it, looking at Brain.]
Brain: No, Pinky, look down at the newspaper on the floor of our cage.
[The camera cuts to a newspaper headline that reads: "GRAND
NATIONAL HORSE RACE IN UPROAR! ODDS-ON FAVOURITE DISAPPEARS! FOUL PLAY
Brain: What do the British love more than anything else, Pinky?
Pinky: Uuuhh, overcooked roast beef and warm beer?
Brain: No, Pinky, even more than that. [After a pause with no
response from Pinky.]
Animals, Pinky, animals! The British are incredibly soft-hearted when it
to any situation involving them. Solving the riddle of the disappearance of a
and well-loved horse is just the thing to bring me to my public's attention.
Holmes only casually glanced at the case, and he seems to have passed it off
"too easy." I've developed my own suspicions about the case, but I
must go to the
scene of the crime in order to verify them.
Pinky: Egad! Brilliant, Brain! Oh...no....wait. Aren't people going to be
wary of talking to two mice?
Brain: [Pondering Pinky's comment]
Hmm....you have a point, Pinky. This calls for a disguise...
[Cut to a playing card with a bent-up corner. Brain walks behind it
and, after a
brief interval, Pinky walks up to it and waits outside.]
Pinky: [with excitement]
Ooooohhh, I know! You could go as a pirate! [Gnashes his teeth and
goes "aaarrrr" and swings an imaginary sword.]
Oh, no wait! You could dress up as a ballerina! [Goes en pointe and
Brain: [poking his head around the card]
Pinky, I've told you to stay out of the drawer where Holmes keeps his 7%
haven't I? [Ducks back in.]
No, Pinky, we must assume a more traditional form of garb....
[Brain emerges in the traditional Holmesian deerstalker hat and
Inverness cape. He
also has a mouse-sized wooden pipe in his hand.]
Pinky: [Impressed, and takes a feel of the cape with his
Ooooohhhh, *fab*ulous threads, Brain.
Brain: Call me...[cue Dramatic Chord (TM) as we close up on
Sherlock Brain! [Puffs on pipe, which emits a few bubbles]
Pinky: Oooh, righty-o Br--Sherlock Brain!
Brain: Yes, and YOU shall be known as my assistant, Dr. Pinky.
[Brain produces a mouse-sized note pad and pen, and hands it to
Your task is to chronicle my doings and to point out the obvious so that the
can understand me.
Pinky: [taking the notepad and pen, doubtfully]
Gee, I dunno Brain...
Brain: Trust me, Pinky. The obvious is your forte.
[Brain and Pinky walk screen left. Cut to the door of the cage, which
with the stem of his pipe. Brain swings the door open.]
Brain: [consulting a pocket watch]
We have time for a brief stop at Simpson's in the Strand for a bite of
then, to the railroad station and to the Colonel Roast's stables! Come, Dr.
The game's afoot!
[Dissolve to commerical as the mice prepare to leave the
Act II: Around the First Turn
[After coming back from the commercial, we see an old-fashioned steam
roaring out of a tunnel, belching black smoke from its stack and sounding its
[Cut to the inside of a first-class train compartment. Pinky is
seated at left, and
is dressed in a frock coat and a top hat. He has a mouse-sized Gladstone bag
him. Brain is on the opposite side of the carriage, at right. He is also
and is wearing a similar frock coat and top hat, and also has a little bag
next to him.]
[Pinky, who has been looking out the window at the passing
countryside, turns to Brain,
who has been reading a newspaper.]
Pinky: Uh, Bra--Sherlock Brain?
[Brain lowers his paper and looks at Pinky, raising an
Pinky: Shouldn't you be, you know, laying out all the facts for me, so that I
relate them to my readers and miss the obvious clues contained therein?
Brain: You speak the truth, Pinky. [Puts aside the paper, and goes
into "deep though" mode.]
These are the facts that have been published in the newspapers. Silver Daze,
you might have heard, is, or was, the current favourite to win the Grand
Steeplechase. Her owner, Colonel Roast, has had enormous success in racing
and Silver Daze has already won numerous events this season. Silver Daze has
made Colonel Roast
a wealthy man. Before Silver Daze disappeared, the odds on her to win the
National were three to one.
[Dissolve to a flashback, taking place at night, with all characters
in shadow. Brain
Colonel Roast's stable is a small one, with only the chief trainer, Striker,
three lads under him. The stables themselves, which are located in the hill
near Liverpool, are isolated, with the nearest neighbors, another stable, some
miles away, the rest of the country being wild.
On the night in question, Colonel Roast's horses had been returned from their
and the three lads under Striker were eating their supper. A house maid
on them about an hour after she had given them their dinners, and found them
passed out, drugged.
[Cut back to the railroad compartment]
Pinky: [shocked a bit]
Drugged?! But how?
Brain: The local law enforcement office found traces of a strong chemical
within their meals, apparently added after the maid served them.
Pinky: [somewhat disguisted]
(Poit!) Wouldn't the stable lads have tasted something funny in their
Brain: No, Pinky, it is a well known fact that nothing can be done to give
cooking any taste whatsoever. To continue...
[Cut back to flashback, narrated by Brain]
Brain: The maid turned to the stall where Silver Daze was normally kept, and
it was empty. She ran outside to find Striker and saw, in the moonlight, the
of a man, whom she believed to be Striker, chasing a horse across country.
[Cut back to the carriage]
Brain: Since then, no one has seen either Silver Daze or Striker. It is
interesting to note
that since the disappearance, the odds on Silver Daze have risen to more than
to one, assuming that she will not be scratched from the racing card. Note
well, Pinky. I believe that to be a highly significant fact.
Pinky: Ooohhh, I'll *bet* you're right! Ha, ha! Get it, Brain? I'll....
[Brain, annoyed, is about to say something, when both Pinky and the
Brain hear the
compartment door open. They turn, and see the figures of Sherlock Holmes and
Watson standing there; they are dressed in human versions of the two mice's
and are also carrying human-sized Gladstone bags. Pinky looks greatly
surprised, and Brain
is briefly flustered, but quickly recovers]
Watson: Oh, terribly sorry...
Brain: [with a note of wariness in his voice]
Not at all. There is room here for all of us. Won't you join us, um....Dr.
and Mr. Holmes?
Holmes: Hah! I see my reputation has preceded me. [He offers Brain
To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?
Brain: [thinking very quickly and with a worried shift of the
Ahhh, I am...Dupin. Y-e-e-e-s-s-s, C. Auguste Dupin, of Paris.
[Shakes Holmes' hand; Holmes raises an eyebrow.]
This [indicating Pinky with his hand]
is my boon companion....ah.....
Pinky: [jumps in]
Columbo, Dr. Columbo! [offers hand to Watson]
Watson: [shaking Pinky's hand]
Your first name, sir?
Pinky: [thinking hard]
Wuuuuhhh, I don't think they ever gave me one...
[There is a brief round of handshakes, and then Watson takes a seat
next to Pinky,
and Holmes takes a seat next to Brain.]
Pinky: [after a brief glance at Homes, in a whisper]
Egad, Br--I mean, Sherlo---ooh, I mean Dupin. What do we do now?
Brain: [also in a whisper]
Keep calm, Pin--Columbo, and for heaven's sake, keep quiet. Take notes.
[Turning to see Holmes staring at him closely]
Can I help you, Mr. Holmes?
Holmes: I beg your pardon, Monsieur Dupin, but there is something about you
Columbo that seems vaguely familiar. Have we met somewhere before?
Brain: [a trifle defensively]
No, I don't believe so. [Becomes a trifle condescending.]
However, I need not have met you before to notice that there was a breeze
through the window of the carriage which you took to the railroad station,
entered by the east and not the west entrance to the railroad station, and
were in a great hurry to catch this train.
Watson: How do you know that, Monsieur Dupin?
Brain: Elementary, my dear Dr. Watson. When one notices the crumbs of
tobacco on Mr. Holmes' coat lapel [Holmes examines and brushes his
, combined with the plaster dust on his hat that comes from the repair work
being performed only on the east entrance of the railroad station
[Holmes feels his hat]
, and the fact that his shoelaces are untied [Holmes looks
, all of the above can be easily deduced.
Holmes: [greatly amused]
Hah! A fellow student of the art of detection! Most impressive. Perhaps
be interested, especially since you are a...hmm, Frenchman, [smiles
in one of my latest monographs. It discusses, with copious illustrations,
identify no less than two hundred and six varieties of cheeses by their
Pinky: [opens eyes very wide]
Oooooohhhhhh, that sounds *neat*!
[Brain glares at Pinky.]
Holmes: [with an air of nonchalance]
So, have you formulated any theories on the disappearance of Silver Daze yet?
[In response to an eyebrow raise from Brain]
Come now, when I see a student of detection on his way to Liverpool, and his
opened to the accounts of the missing horse, it becomes obvious that thought
given to theorizing on the case.
It is a capital mistake, Mr. Holmes, to theorize without having first
Holmes: Touche, Monsieur Dupin! We must always keep these elemental truths
As it happens, I have been engaged by Col. Roast to perform an investigation
the matter. May the best...man?...win, Monsieur Dupin.
Brain: [with a frosty smile]
Indeed, Mr. Holmes.
[Cut to the train roaring through the countryside, smokestack
chuffing. Cut again
to the Liverpool railroad station, as Pinky and the Brain exit their
Brain: How annoying. Having Holmes underfoot greatly complicates my plans
this case. I shall have to work even harder to ensure that I beat him to the
Pinky: Where do we go now, Brain?
Brain: To Colonel Roast's stable, Pinky. You and I shall interrogate the
examine the scene of the crime. Let us procure a carriage...
[Pinky and the Brain move off. We pan right to a figure holding a
cannot see the figure's face, but we can see that on the figure's right hand,
is a tattoo of a red circle...]
Act III: Bunching Up on the Rail
[We cut to an overhead shot of the English countryside, with rolling
with trees. It is late afternoon, moving into twilight. A small grouping of
6 buildings stands alone in the center of the shot. One building, set apart
the other, is a small graceful mansion of an obviously well-to-do owner. The
are composed of a small stable and supporting facilities. A winding gravel
leads to the mansion and the other buildings from offscreen. As we slowly
we can see that an open horse-drawn cart is pulling up to the front of the
[We cut to the front of the mansion, where the carriage pulls up and
stops. A young
lad, of about 16, jumps off the buckboard, and begins to pull some bags from
vehicle. A servant walks up to the carriage from the house, and opens the
Brain and Pinky are still dressed in their traveling gear, and are standing
at the edge of
the carriage. Brain seems to be in some discomfort, as he is rubbing his
and wincing. Pinky, on the other hand, is looking around with wide-eyed
Brain: [half to himself]
Pinky, please remind me to invent shock absorbers one of these days.
Pinky: [a trifle absently]
Right-o Brain! [looking around and breathing deeply]
So this is what the English countryside is like! Isn't it *glor*ious,
Pinky, we are not here for the sightseeing or the bracing air. Please, let
all the talking. [Louder]
Ah, here is our host now!
[Cut to the front door of the mansion, where we see the host, who
appears to be a
typical specimen of the "sporting gentry" type: round figure clothed
in tweed and
high boots, a majestic handlebar mustache and a cherry-red nose produced by
and fox hunting. The man walks down the steps from the front door, and
approaches the carriage.]
Col. Roast: [In a hearty, booming voice and accent]
Ah, by Jove! You've finally arrived. I'd thought my dashed telegram had
[The Colonel reaches the carriage, and bends down to shake the hands
of Pinky and
Brain: Yes, ah, that telegraph office is, ah, a curse. I shall write my, ah,
sir. You are Colonel Roast, I believe?
Col.: Yes, yes, I am, sir. And you must be Mr. Holmes?
Ah, yes, but please...call me Mr. Dupin. [Aside, sotto voice, to
I must keep my identify a secret. Scotland Yard is terribly jealous, you
Col.: Eh? What? Oh! Ha,ha! Right! [winks, and puts a meaty finger
to the side of the nose and taps it significantly].
Mum's the word, "Mr. Dupin."
Brain: May I introduce my associate, Dr. [straining a bit]
Pinky: How do you do, Colonel? (Narf!)
Col.: Very well, thank you, Doctor. [winks again, broadly]
. Now, let's restore the tissues with an invigorating cup of tea, and we can
you started on your enquires. [turns to the servant, who has been
standing by as the carriageboy is fetching the
Pelham, please make sure our guests' rooms are in order, and then call the
staff to the drawing room.
Pelham: [In the fruity tones of the traditional English
Very good, sir.
[The Colonel turns and heads for the house, and the mice jump from the
quickly follow him inside.]
[Dissolve cut to the drawing room, which is decorated with all manner
of racing mementoes,
such as trophies, etchings of past winners, etc. A large fire warms the room,
is casting dark shadows in the far corners. The Colonel is comfortably seated
one armchair, with one side to the fire, and is sipping a cup of tea. In the
opposite, both Brain and Pinky are sitting on the edge of the seat. Brain is
on a conversation with the Colonel, while Pinky is wrestling with a scone that
as big as he is. Pelham is seen clearing a few small items, and as the scene
he is departing the room.]
Brain: So, Colonel, pray relate to me your version of the events of that
Col.: [setting down his cup]
Again? Those chappies at the Yard haven't given you a sufficient transcript
statement to them?
Brain: There is no substitute, my dear Colonel, for a first hand account.
Col.: Eh? Oh, yes, quite, quite. You must have your methods, Mr. Dupin.
Brain: Yes, and...[turning to Pinky, who is wrestling with the scone
and a spoon, trying to put some
cream on his scone]
...Pinky, may I have some...
[Pinky loses his battle with the spoon, and deposits the cream on
Pinky: (Poit!) Sorry, Br-...er....Mr. Dupin!
Brain: [wiping the cream off his face with his handkerchief]
Here! [handing Pinky a notepad and pen, with force]
Would you *kindly* takes notes as the Colonel relates his story?
Pinky: [taking the materials]
Er, righty-o, Brain! [Begins to work intensely at it, his eyes half
closed and his tongue hanging out]
Brain: [turning back to the Colonel]
Please excuse my partner, Colonel. He gets excited with the smell of the
Col.: What? Oh, right! Just like a foxhound, eh? [Chuckles
Brain: Yes, quite. Pray continue, my dear Colonel.
Col.: Well, it's rather like this, dontcha know....
[In flashback, we dissolve to a shot of the drawing room in the bright
light of midday.
The Colonel is seated in the same chair, in a POV shot from the other chair.
can see someone is occupying the other chair, but we cannot see that person
for their legs. The Colonel narrates.]
Col.: [in v.o.]
About a week ago, just a day before Silver Daze vanished, I was visited by an
Col.: [in flashback]
Well then, now that we've had a spot of tea, how may I help you,
Mr...[reads a calling card in his hand]
Grates: I have a business proposition, Colonel, I wish to purchase one of
Col.: Really? How extraordinary. Well, we're not one of the major stables,
rather small, but I have a few horses that might catch your fan--
Grates: No, not any horse. A particular one. I wish to purchase [a
perfectly timed pause]
[The Colonel, in flashback, starts visibly and leans toward Grates in
Col.: [in v.o]
Well, I can tell you that that came as a dreadful shock. I mean, Silver
that point had been declared all but the winner of the Grand National.
Col.: [in flashback]
Well, ah, surely you must be mistaken. Silver Daze, well, she's the
the Grand National. Surely I can interest you in another....
[We cut to Grates' hands as he opens up a checkbook and holds a
Grates: I am prepared to be quite generous, Colonel. Shall we say, one
[Cut back to POV of front of Colonel]
One...one HUNDRED THOUSAND pounds??!??
Grates: Ah, I am not generous enough. Two hundred thousand, then?
Col.: You're mad! That's many times the purse of the Grand National!
[Cut back to Grates' hand, checkbook and pen]
Grates: You drive a hard bargain, Colonel. My final offer then: five
pounds, and not a farthing more.
[Cut back to the POV of Colonel's front]
Col.: No! Never! I won't sell Silver Daze! She's been my pride and joy
was a yearling, and she is the horse that will win my stables the reputation
No sale, sir! No sale!
Grates: [with a sigh]
. Dear me, Colonel. Dear me. Silver Daze is a fine horse, but she will
not carry the day at the Grand National.
[Cut to Colonel, whose eyes move up as Grates stands up
Col: What the devil d'ye mean by that? Out with it, man!
Simply this. Silver Daze will not cross the finish line. She will not even
at the starting line. Good day, Colonel.
[The Colonel tries to stand in time to stop Grates from departing, but
we hear the
bang of a door off screen, indicating that Grates has moved too quickly for
Col.: [in v.o.]
Well, that was it then, and I haven't seen him since. I called the
course, and gave them his name, but they told me that the Yard had no one in
files by that name.
[We move back to the present, and we see the Colonel smoking a pipe as
above narration, while Brain is listening, eyes closed, with great
Pinky, meantime, is furiously taking notes. Brain opens his eyes.]
Brain: And how would you describe Mr. Grates, Colonel?
Col.: Well, now that you ask it, that's the rummy thing. Not a sort of chap
out, you know. Blond feller, no facial hair, somewhat youngish. Shan't be
to pick him out in a crowd, I dare say.
Brain: Quite interesting Colonel. It would appear our Mr. Grates has gone to
deal of trouble to make himself unnoticeable. [turning to
Have you got all that, Doctor.
Pinky: ...un-notice-a-ble. There! (Poit!) Ohhh, yes, Br--Mr. Dupin. I got
of it down. Look!
[He hands the notebook proudly to Brain, and the Colonel bends over to
to a shot of the pad, which bears squiggles that could be writing, but seem to
Col.: Bless my soul! Been writing prescriptions, eh, Doctor?
Brain: Yes, a *thorough* professional. [hands the pad back to Pinky
with a glare]
[As if on cue, the door to the room opens, and three young lads, who
are clearly related,
walk in. They are about 14, 12 and 10 years in age, respectively. Each is
in a manner suitable for stablehands, such as sweaters, wool pants, and flat
hats. The Colonel motions the boys over between the chairs, and in front of
Col.: Ah, there you are! Mr. Dupin, Dr. Columbo, allow me to introduce you
stablehands. [Indicating each in order, eldest first]
This is Nathan, and his younger brothers Luke and Cody. Their family has
for these stables for years. Lads, I'd like you to meet Mr. Dupin and his
Dr. Columbo. They're here to look into the Silver Daze affair.
[The three lads remove their hats and nod politely.]
Nathan: 'ow do you do, gen'lemen?
Brain: Quite well, thank you. [to the Colonel]
Well mannered, aren't they?
Col.: [puffs out his chest with pride]
They're like family to me. When I pass on, these stables become theirs.
going to be brought up as proper Englishmen, sir.
Brain: Most laudable, Colonel.
[Cody, the youngest, pulls on Luke's sleeve and whispers, a shade too
Cody: Coo! Those chaps look just like mice, they do!
Luke: [whispering back]
'ere, that isn't polite!
Brain: [very smoothly]
Actually, Cody, if you must know, we are two lab mice in the midst of a
plan for world domination.
[The brothers and the Colonel are initially puzzled, and then break
out in jolly laughter.
Pinky, meanwhile, in scribbling in his book]
Pinky: ...'wo-orld dom-i-na-tion' Got it! (Poit!)
[Brain fumes a bit, while the laughter subsides, and the Colonel wipes
Col.: Ah, Mr. Dupin, I never dreamed you had such wit.
Brain: [a trifle flustered]
Col.: [turning serious]
Now then, Nathan, why don't you tell Mr. Dupin what happened on the night
Nathan: Yes, sir. Well, my bruvers and I, we were finishing cleaning the
for the night, when this strange feller comes walking up to me...
[We move again into flashback, where we see the far end of one side of
where Nathan is carrying a stack of hay in one hand, and is carrying a lit
Nathan: [in v.o.]
I was finishing up, when I 'eard a voice...
[We see a dark shadow appear around the side of the stables, and look
Voice: [from the shadow]
Hello there, lad.
Nathan: [in flashback]
Oi! Who-who are you?
Voice: My name doesn't matter. The Colonel just told me to ask you to show
you keep Silver Daze.
Oh...? Did he, then?
Voice: Yes, I...
Nathan: Clear off! If the Colonel wanted to show you the 'orse, he'd be down
then with you. Get on, or I'll set the dog on you!
Hmm...well trained, aren't you. What if I gave you...a tenner?
[The shadow holds out a hand, and we see a white, square piece of
paper clutched in
his hand, lit by the dim light of the lantern. We also see something
Nathan: [in v.o]
That when I seen this big red thing on the back of 'is 'and.
[Cut back to the present. Brain snaps to attention.]
Brain: A red mark on the back of his hand? Like a circle?
Nathan: Well, I don't rightly know, sir. Didn't 'ave a good chance to look,
light being faint an' all...
Brain: [to Pinky]
Doctor, make sure you note that. We have seen that symbol before.
Pinky: Zounds, Br- er. Dupin, you mean like at a convenience store?
Brain: [to the humans]
Excuse me one moment. [Brain fwaps Pinky on the head, causing Pinky
Pray continue, Nathan.
[We return to the flashback. The shadow is still holding the bill.
Cut to Nathan]
Nathan: [shaking his head]
No, sir. You could give me all the gold in the Bank of England, and you
see the back of Silver Daze. Clear off, or I'll yell for Mr. Striker!
[Cut to the two figures]
Voice: [lowering the bill]
Very well. But you have no seen the last of me, young man.
[With that, the shadow departs. Nathan stands there for a moment,
drops the hay,
and begins to leave the barn.]
Nathan: [in v.o]
So I locks up the barn, runs back to the 'ouse, and told the Colonel what
The 'ole 'ousehold came out, but we didn't see anything. Silver Daze, she
safe. That's when my bruvers and I, we had our supper.
[Dissolve back to the present.]
Nathan: Well sir, right after we ate our dinner, we got all sleepy, and when
woken up the next morning, Silver Daze was gone.
Brain: [turning to the other two brothers]
And you agree with his account?
[Cody and Luke nod vigorously]
Brain: Nathan, is there anything I should know about Silver Daze that would
me identify her?
Nathan: [thinks a bit first]
Well, she's grey all over, has white splash on her nose...how she got her
yes, Mr. Striker an' I just shoed her the day she went and disappeared.
Brain: Thank you, gentlemen. I'm sure this stable will be in safe hands when
day comes for you to inherit it.
[The boys look over to the Colonel, who nods. They put on their caps,
in a motion of deference to Brain and Pinky, and leave screen right. Brain
to the Colonel.]
Brain: One more thing, Colonel. Did the police examine Mr. Striker's effects
they were here?
Col.: Well, yes, they did. They're over here on this table...
[Cut to a table, on which there are some pieces of paper, a few coins,
and some keys.
Pinky and Brain are on the table, the Colonel stands next to it.]
Brain: [examining the papers and items]
Hmmm...feed bills....pamphlet for horse medicine...tin of cigarettes...keys ,
likely to the stable...two pounds in assorted silver...hmm, what's this?
Col.: [Looking at a piece of paper on the table]
Oh, that's a bill from a London dressmaker. Sometimes the mail gets mixed
Brain: Indeed? I think not, Colonel. I find this highly significant.
Pinky: How, Dupin?
Brain: You know my methods, Doctor. Apply them.
[Pinky's eyes open in glee and he claps his hands. Suddenly, he
hunches over. His
tail kinks, he half-closes his eyes, and begins to speak in a Pinky-inflected
as Brain watches with growing annoyance.]
Pinky: Y-e-e-e-s-s-s! Most interesting! [Sees Brain about to speak
out, and fwaps him on the head]
Brain: [Grabs at Pinky, and shakes him, and then glances quickly to
see if the Colonel caught
A friendly nickname among old friends, Colonel. [Turns to Pinky,
who has resumed his normal self.]
No, my dear Doctor, this is highly unusual. If it were mere misdirected
would not be creased so as if it had been carried around. Note the date,
three weeks ago, and note further that it is a second notice for payment for a
expensive grey silk dress, almost twenty pounds. Is Striker married,
Col.: [rubbing his chin]
Well, no...he's a widower.
Brain: [turning to Pinky]
So you see what is unusual, Doctor?
Pinky: Oh, yes! Grey is *absolutely out* this year as the color of fashion.
is wearing blue this year...
[Brain rolls his eyes]
Brain: Well, Colonel, we have learned all I think we can here in the house.
we shall walk the meadows and see if we can find the traces of your horse.
Splended! [calling out loudly]
Pelham! [Turning to the mice]
I suggest, gentlemen, that we call it an early night, and after a hearty
you can begin your investigation anew!
[Pelham enters, and stands stiffly at attention]
Col.: Monsieur Dupin and Doctor Columbo will be retiring now, Pelham, could
them to their rooms?
Pelham: Very good, sir. This way, gentlemen.
Brain: [to the Colonel]
I must thank you, Colonel, for your generous hospitality. Until the morrow,
Col.: Quite! Good night, sir.
[Dissolve out as the mice follow Pelham out of the room.]
Act IV: The Backstretch
[We dissolve into a shot of the stables, from about a quarter mile
away. It is late
morning, but there is still a bit of dew on the grass, and a few clouds dot
sky. The mice, dressed as their counterparts, appear walking over a hill from
direction of the stables. Brain is carrying a magnifying glass in front of
is carefully scanning the ground. Pinky is following with curiosity, and is
his mouse-sized Gladstone bag. As the mice continue to walk, the scene pans
from the stables and across the countryside.]
Pinky: Zounds, Br-er, Sherlock, that was a yummy breakfast. Why'd we have to
it so soon?
Brain: Alas, Pinky, already a week has passed since the disappearance of
and any chance of finding clues as to Silver Daze's or Mr. Striker's
is already slim. However, Lady Luck smiles upon us, as it has not rained in
parts since that fateful day.
Pinky: But what sort of clues are we looking for? A knife? A
Brain: No, no, nothing that obvious, my friend. I would seriously doubt that
culprit would leave such an obvious clue. No, we must look at what has
discounted by our friends at the Yard.
Pinky: [as if remembering something]
Oh, you mean like that circle-thingy on that guy's hand?
Brain: Exactly, my dear Doctor. I fear that there is something going on here
a much deeper, and more dangerous level that just the disappearance of a
Consider, if you will, the death of the banker, Mr. Merryweather. Such an
would naturally cause a temporary disruption in the financial business that
strong. Similarly, the removal of the favourite steed in the most anticipated
of the year would shock the social well-being of any proper Englishman. And
events are somehow linked together by the mark of that guild of assassins. As
man would say, I smell a rat!
Pinky: [starts, and sniffs at himself]
But, Br--Sherlock, I *bathed* this morning!
Brain: [annoyed, but still concentrating on looking through his
Concentrate, Doctor! Any possible deviation from our search could cause us
Pinky: Uhh, Brain?
Brain: [turning to face Pinky, while continuing to walk forward, and
in an annoyed tone]
Well, what is it now..ahh!
[Brain suddenly trips and falls, sending the magnifying glass flying
into the air.
It comes straight down, smashing the glass and putting Brain's head through
frame. Pinky runs up and tries to help Brain recover his composure.]
Pinky: Um, I s'pose it's a little late to say "watch your step?"
Brain: Thank you for your sincere, if not sufficiently early, warning,
help me take this [indicating the frame]
Pinky: Sure thing, Br-- Sherlock!
[Pinky struggles with Brain, but eventually manages to pull the frame
off Brain with
a POP! Pinky flies backward, and lands with an "Ooof!", and then an
a chunk of metal that is half-hidden in some grass. Brain stands up, and
off the dirt and glass debris covering him.]
Brain: Hm...what was that I tripped over? [turns to look back at
where Pinky fell]
Pinky: Well, there's this big metal thingy sticking in the ground over
[Cut to a shot of a metal item with two widely spaced
Brain: [with a gleam in his eye]
Doctor, I believe we have stumbled upon a clue!
Oooh, "stumbled"! Ha,ha! Narf! Good one, Sherlock.
[Brain fwaps Pinky smartly (Zort!)]
Brain: Just help me drag this out so we can have a look at it, and
[The mice get to work, each grabbing one of the points of the metal
heave back on it with some strain, moving it at first slowly, and then, with a
they free it from the grass. The object, a horseshoe, flies a short distance,
both mice with it. They land, and the horseshoe lands on top of them, causing
crushing of their midsections. Brain struggles out from under it, and
a moment. He then proceeds to examine the shoe carefully, while Pinky
suddenly starts giggling.]
Pinky: Wooo! That was fun, eh? (Narf!)
Brain: Please be quiet! I must learn all I can from this clue!
[Pinky gets out from under his end of the horseshoe and peers over
Pinky: Ooooh, it's a horseshoe! (Poit!) We must be *really* lucky!
what *are* you babbling about?
Pinky: Wuh, gee, Br-, I mean, Sherlock, everyone knows that horseshoes are
charms! You just want to toss it over your shoulder to make it work, but you
want to break it or your mother's back will be broken for seven years...or is
eight years? (Poit!)
Brain: [pausing briefly to glance at the camera in disgust]
Doctor, we don't have time for your superstitious nonsense! Look here!
[Brain grabs Pinky and pulls him over to the horseshoe.]
This is a size 7 1/2 shoe, the same size Silver Daze wore. And look at the
of the shoe; it shows very little wear. Remember what Nathan said, that the
had been shoed on the day it vanished? [eyes widen, and turns to
Pinky and grabs him by the lapels.]
I say once again, the game is afoot!
Afoot? Zounds, Sherlock, I don't know the rules to that one. How about a
Old Maid instead?
[Brain follows up with another fwap, producing another
Brain: Come, let us search the area for other clues. We are close to finding
our culprit is!
[The mice spread out, and starting looking at the ground intently. We
as he is closely examining the terrain. After a few feet, Brain discovers
Brain: Y-e-e-e-s-s-s! [Calling to Pinky]
Come here at once! I've got it! A set of horse prints leading away from
Roast's stables, and in the general direction of the neighboring stables.
And one of the hooves that made these tracks was unshoed! Pinky, we
Pinky: [walks into shot, carrying a cigarette butt proudly]
Egad, look! Look at what I found!
Brain: Your anti-littering activities are impressive, Pinky, but we are
for clues. [slaps the butt out of Pinky's hands]
Pinky: [in a hurt tone]
Brain: [waving off Pinky]
Gather together the bag and the horseshoe, Pinky, we have a small
[Brain begins to walk away, while Pinky dashes to collect his gear,
and races to follow
Brain. Their voices trail off as they move away.]
Pinky: But Sherlock! Didn't the horse trainer chap sm.-..
Brain: Quiet, Doctor! I am currently working out the solution....
[As the mice disappear over a hill, we see a human foot step into the
Cut to a POV showing a view of the top of a foot, and the discarded cigarette
A hand, holding a magnifying lens, is lowered, and we see the enlarged
butt. The lens is withdrawn, and we see another hand reaching down, and
picking up the butt.
Dissolve to a commercial.]
Act V: Fighting for Position
[Dissolve into later that same day, near twilight. We see that that
fair weather is giving way to ominous looking stormclouds. The mice walk into
small grouping of buildings including a stable, quite different from the
stable. Brain is intent on his goal. Pinky is lagging behind, obviously
tired, since he
is lugging the bag and horseshoe. As soon as Brain stops, he falls flat on
Pinky: [weakly, breathing heavily]
Zounds, Brain. How come we had to hike all his way? *Why* couldn't we have
taken a carriage or something?
Brain: [looking at the ground, with an air of abstraction]
The element of surprise, Doctor. If my hunch is correct, and they usually
culprit of the crime will not be expecting us, and be shall be able to break
case wide open.
Pinky: Well, while you're breaking the case wide open, can I get some
Brain: [pulling out a small pocketwatch from his suit]
Morpheus will have to wait, Doctor. Time grows short, and as you can see
[cut to rolling clouds, cut back to Brain]
we shall soon be treated to a spot of rain. We must make do with the time we
left. Come, let us examine these horses closely.
Pinky: [with a pained sigh]
Brain: [turning and looking at Pinky]
While we are here, please use my other pseudonym, Doctor.
Pinky: [tired and confused]
*Other* pseudowhosis? I didn't know I was using your first one!
Just call me Mr. Dupin! Now let's get on with it!
[The mice walk over to the stable, climb up one of the doors, and jump
We cut to the inside of the stable building, which is dimly lit, but is
to show us that there are about 16 stalls, eight on each side, with the dim
of horses in them. The stables seem to be rather less well-kept than the
The horses take no notice of the mice, and continue to chew on their feed.
and the Brain use the woodwork within the stable to go between each stall, so
they are eye level with each horse's head. Brain pauses at each stall, peers
at the horse,
then past the horse to the contents of the stall, and then continues on to the
Pinky: Whacha doin'...ah...Mr. Dupin?
Brain: I am looking for any signs of our missing steed, Dr. Columbo. As the
constablury has previously checked these stables in their own slipshod way,
no obvious sign of Silver Daze, it is apparent that our "friend" has
gone to great
lengths to disguise his ill-gotten gains. Thus, we must carefully examine
for a hint of the true Silver Daze.
Pinky: Oh, right-o! (Narf!)
[Brain is continuing his examination of the stalls when he stops at
one with a brown
mare, who looks sad-eyed and disconsolate. He sniffs the air with puzzlement,
down, and his eyes go wide.]
Brain: Hello, what's this?
Pinky: What is it, Dupin? Is it a clue? The word "Rache" written
on a wall? Little
stick figures of dancing men holding flags? [hunches down and wiggles
A species of worm unknown to science?
Brain: [peers at Pinky as if Pinky has gone mad]
N-o-o-o-o, something a trifle more realistic. The smell from this stall is
more withstandable than any of the others, indicating it has been in use for a
shorter time. Also, there is something odd about the smell of this horse.
[Brain jumps down into the stall, followed by Pinky, carrying the shoe
and bag. The
mare still doesn't notice them. Brain walks up to one of the hooves and
Brain: Observe, Pinky! The stablehands here have been careless, and they
reshoed this horse. Quickly, give me the shoe we found earlier!
Pinky: (Poit!) Right-o, Mr. Dupin!
[Pinky hands the shoe to Brain, and Brain places it in one of the
prints on the soft
dirt on the floor. The shoe fits perfectly.]
Brain: [cut Triumphant Music (TM)]
Pinky: [looking up at the horse]
Er, um, Dupin? Wasn't Silver Daze a *grey* horse?
Brain: [calming down]
Hmmm, yes, and this *is* certainly a horse of a different color. I
[Brain walks over, pulls a handkerchief from his suit, and rubs at the
fur just above
the hoof. We see that as he rubs, the brown color disappears, to be replaced
grey fur beneath it.]
Brain: Behold! Someone has used...[sniffs at the cloth].
..shoe polish to disguise the horse. Here, Doctor. [hands Pinky the
Go and wipe off the horse's face, and look for the distinctive mark on its
Pinky: [takes the cloth, and nods eagerly]
[Cut to Pinky scrambling to the top of the stall door, and then to the
top of the
horse's head. The horse, sad-eyed, takes no notice of the activity. Pinky
to wipe down the fur, gradually removing the brown polish. Cut to a closeup
as he climbs down from the head, and onto a nearby wooden post.]
Pinky: All finished! Come have a look, Dupin!
Brain: Stellar, Doctor. Tell me, is there anything you recognize about the
Pinky: I'll check....
[Cut to the side view as Pinky looks up into the mare's face, which
can now be seen
in some dim light. With the polish removed from most of her face, we now
the horse as Phar Fig Newton. Both horse and mouse recognize each other at
and as their eyes turn into hearts, we hear the strains of "Romeo and
Juliet" playing in
the background. Little tiny hearts pop up between the two.]
Pinky: [deeply lovestruck, and softly]
Silver Daze: [equally softly]
[Cut to Brain's POV, looking up at the smitten pair]
What *are* you doing up there? [waits, but gets no
Pinky?! [clambers up to where Pinky is gazing dazedly at the horse;
Brain grabs Pinky and
Pinky: [snapping slowly out of his love trance, with an air of
abstraction and a huge, happy
Ohhh, hullo. Look who it is! Why it's Ph--
Brain: [clamps a hand over Pinky's mouth]
Yes, I recognize the markings, too! It's Silver Daze! We've solved the
[Pinky is about to say something, when we hear the door to the stables
more light into the stables. The mice immediately scramble behind some gear,
a middle-aged man, dressed in scruffy clothes, and smoking on a cigarette,
in, and starts to check on each horse.]
Man: Now then, me lovelies. All right, then, eh? [strokes the head
of one of the horses]
Gonna win the glory of the Grand National for this 'ere stable, and not for
berk Roast, eh?
[Cut to the mice's POV.]
Brain: [whispered v.o.]
Look, Doctor, at his hand!
Pinky: [whispered v.o.]
[Cut to a medium closeup of the man's hand, which shows a red circle
on the back]
Pinky: [whispered v.o.]
It's the mark of those asset-type thingies!
[Cut to Pinky and the Brain, in the shadows]
Exactly! We have stumbled into something deep here...
Pinky: [whispered, and looking as his lifted feet]
Ohh, ewww, I'll need a bath after all this, then.
[The man approaches Silver Daze, and peers at her face.]
Man: Oi, what's 'appened 'ere then? Rubbin' off your makeup, eh?
[reaches into his jacket pocket, and pulls out a jar and rag. The man
opens up the
jar, dips the rag into it, and begins to replace the polish on the face of the
Silver Daze, who whinnies softly in protest.]
'Old still, 'old still. There now! You'da thought the Colonel would have
'is 'osses to be better mannered than that. Good thing ol' Mr. Grates 'as put
in charge 'ere. Better pay, better 'ours, better ev'ryfink.
[Cut to Brain and Pinky]
Well, if it isn't the "missing" Mr. Striker, Doctor! Faking his
to join this "Mr. Grates" in his evil plans...
Pinky: [in a low, but a trifle too loud, voice, caught up in the
Man: [turning in the direction of Pinky's voice]
Oi, whazzat then? [steps over, and sees the two lab mice.]
Blimey, what 'ave we got 'ere then, eh?
Well, I...I've come to see a man about a horse!
Man: [with a sneer]
Very bloody funny. 'ar-ar-ar. Pull the other one, mate, it's got bells on
[Pinky stifles a nervous giggle]
Brain: [with some more confidence]
Actually, *Mr. Striker*...it *is* Mr. Striker, isn't it? Your cigarettes
distinctive. I wish to purchase a horse to enter in the Grand National. And
just any horse, mind. I want...[looks at knuckles, and then up at
[Striker's face shows shock and surprise, and he tries to
Striker: S-s-silver Da-daze? I don't know what your're talking...
Pull the other one, Mr. Striker. It's got bells on it! My associate and I
heard everything you've just said. It's just a matter of notifying the proper
and you'll soon being doing time as a guest of Her Majesty say, for about ten
Striker: [eyes open in fear, and backing away]
'oo...'oo are you?
Brain: [advancing with triumph]
I am he that makes the dark and mysterious clear and lucid. I am he who
criminal classes of England tremble. I am an instrument of justice, swift and
I am...[cue Dramatic Chord (TM)]
Sherlock Brain! That will be the name you remember when you are in the dock
Striker: [continuing to walk backward, eventually reaching the wall
of the stable]
I-I know nuffink, squire. I'm not the man behind this....
Brain: Oh? Then who told you to abandon your employer, Colonel Roast, the
trusted you with his most valuable horse? The man who you cheated? Out with
[Striker is sweating with fear, and his hands are scrabbling against
the wall. Suddenly,
he touches the barrel of a rifle, and a sneer crosses his face. In one fluid
he picks up the rifle, whirls, and aims it, with the muzzle a few inches from
Striker: [with a sneer]
Now then, Mr. Sherlock Scotland-Yard-jack-in-office. Suppose the Old Bill
be able to piece this together...if there ain't no one to tell 'em about
Brain: [with a trace of fright; he is backing away now]
Ah...let's not be too hasty, Mr. Striker. I'm sure we can work out some
Striker: 'Fraid not, Mr. Brain. Seems you know a li'le bit too much, you
[Striker advances with the rifle. Cut to Brain's POV as he looks over
and sees a rake standing against a stall door, the teeth end up. Brain's eyes
as we cut to him.]
Brain: Pinky! Pinky! Quickly, the rake!
[Cut to Pinky, who looks around in panicked confusion]
The rake! The one at the stall door! Quickly!
[Pinky spots the rake, and jumps to the floor, runs over, and starts
to try to move
the rake, even though it is far to heavy for him. He ends up causing the rake
fall to the floor. Cut to a camera POV of the floor, as the rake falls to the
the teeth of the rake falling into the path of the advancing Striker, and
the handle. Cut back to Striker.]
Striker: Say your prayers, Mr. Sherlock Brain!
[Striker cocks the rifle, but just as he is bringing up the rifle to
fire, we cut
to a shot of his foot stepping on the rake. The rake flies up, catching him
in the side of the head. Pinky flies up through the air and the rifle
into the air. Pinky lands in a pile of hay with a loud "Troz!" As
for Striker, he wobbles
a bit, the eyes roll, and he pitches forward, out cold. Cut to Brain, who has
on his knees praying fervently. Brain hears the silence and opens his eyes.
sees the results of the melee, and looks up briefly toward Heaven with an air
Brain: Well done, Doctor! Not quite the solution I had in mind, but I
[Pinky wanders into the shot, covered with bits of stray hay, which he
out of his clothes; he seems a bit woozy.]
Pinky: Wha-wha hoppen?
Brain: Ours is not to question the ways of Divine Providence, Doctor.
[Pinky stops by the fallen Striker's hand, the one that has the
tattoo. Pinky looks
down at it, and his eyes open wide in shock.]
Pinky: OH! BRAIN! Come quickly! [Looks up at Brain and points to
[Cut to Brain, whose is rifling through Striker's coat
Brain: Yes, yes, we saw that he has a tattoo earlier, remember. But these
for women's clothing are much more interesting...[looks at one
I did not know they made garters in this size...
Pinky: Brain, you really have to see this. [trots over to Brain,
grabs the startled Brain, and drags him over to the hand, and
Brain: Pinky, what *are* you doing?
Pinky: Brain, *LOOK*!
[Cut to the mice's POV. We now see the tattoo up close for the first
time. We can
now make out that it consists of the aforementioned red circle...but
around a red letter "A". Cut to Brain, as a look of shock and
horror crosses his
[We hear a VERY familiar voice coming from offscreen]
Voice: Oh, yes...
[We cut to the POV of the mice, looking the stable door. A very short
taller than the mice, stands in the door, the light casting its shadow against
walls of the stable. Fast zoom keyed with Dramatic Chords (TM) on the figure.
figures resolves, upon closer inspection, to be Snowball. Flashes of
lightning from the
approaching storm appear momentarily. Snowball is dressed very elegantly in
evening wear, with a top hat, opera cloak, and cane. He stares with an air of
superiority at the mice.]
Snowball: Journeys end in lovers meeting, gentlemen.
[Cut to the mice, who look at each other]
Brain and Pinky: [in a hushed whisper]
[Cut back to a shot of the mice near Striker's body, and Snowball, who
the shot screen right.]
Snowball: I was wondering how long it would take you to get here. I'm almost
you managed to beat out the...hmm..."great" Sherlock Holmes here.
Did you rely on
the daily horoscope for guidance? Or was it the tea leaves?
Brain: I was only...I was only taking my time, to allow you to fall
trap. Besides, what happened to that Professor fellow who was keeping you.
Snowball: [in resentment]
Professor James Moriarity! Bah! Him and his paper on the binomial theorem!
will get him nowhere. Still, at least *he* lets me conduct my own plans, and
me for the genius that I am...[stands in front of the Brain, and prods
him in the chest with the handle of his stick]
...and that *you* are not.
[Brain starts a slow burn, with a furious glare at Snowball]
Snowball: [With a sneer]
Come now, the Great...ahem, what's your little title now? Oh yes,
Come now, Sherlock, can't you handle a bit of dry English wit? This case
seriously taxed your synapses. [Turns to Pinky]
Why *are* you still hanging around this wretched specimen?
Pinky: [with fear]
But...but I saw you die! I mean, I saw you fall...
Snowball: [a trifle confused]
Hmm...? [pauses in thought]
Oh, those Reichenbach Falls! You thought I'd...[smiles and walks
over to Pinky, placing his hand on his shoulder]
Let's just say the rumours of my death were greatly exaggerated.
[Brain snaps out of his fuming]
Brain: So! I should have guessed that you were behind all this?
Snowball: [turning back to Brain]
Indeed, you would have had to have guessed it, for you *never* would have
Brain: [fuming still]
I suppose the death of the late Mr. Merryweather was part of your plan as
Snowball: But of course! Don't you see..? Ah, well, let me put it in terms
can understand, my dear Brain. Nice, simple ones. I only regret there aren't
pictures to go with them.
[Brain grits his teeth, but remains silent]
Snowball: You see, the death of a prominent banker like Mr. Merryweather
a disruption in the normal operation of England's financial markets, upsetting
monied classes. The mass confusion of the Grand National caused by the
of the favourite would upset the proles. All it would take would be the
of our aged Queen [chuckles in a sinister fashion]
, and all England would be ripe for my taking. Once I have England, the rest
world is a mere bagatelle.
[Snowball turns away, and we cut to an overhead shot showing him
opening the door
to Silver Daze's stall. We hear Brain speaking as Snowball leads Silver Daze
Brain: Well, what about your confederates? Striker? And Wilkerson?
Snowball: Mere tools. Disposable tools. What of them? Ah, Striker. I
fascination with the outfits of the gentler sex would be the end of him
And that idiot Wilkerson. I told him NOT to visit Holmes, and if that
hadn't come off, well, I wouldn't have to do this myself.
[Cut to Brain, Pinky and Snowball, who is holding the reins of SIlver
front hooves can be seen.]
Brain: So what will it be now, Snowball? All I need to do is return Silver
to Colonel Roast, and your plan is in ashes. I've already warned Scotland
the murderer of Mr. Merryweather is at large, and I am hot on his trail!
Snowball: [with an air of ennui]
Bluff and swagger, Brain, bluff and swagger. You have done no such thing,
have been watching your every step. Now, you shall see my next step. You
crossed my path when you recognized Wilkerson for who he was. You
me by actually coming out here and investigating the case. And now, you are
hampering my plans, and putting my liberty at risk. There is only one thing
Brain: Oh, and what is that?
Snowball: Simple. Destroy the evidence.
[Pinky widens his eyes, and then we see his anger building
Brain: Destroy the evidence? How do you intend to do that?
Snowball: [to Brain's face]
Two words: dog food.
[Snowball drops the reins, and walks a few paces away. He turns and
anger continues to build, and we see his eyes turning red...]
Brain: You're mad, Snowball! You'll never get away with this!
Snowball: Terribly sorry, gentlemen. I must clear up all the loose ends
my tent and silently stealing away. It is convenient that Mr. Striker here
provide a perfect suspect for the law when it eventually arrives...
[Silver Daze, sensing danger, starts to whinny in fear. Pinky's eyes
grow a deep
carmine, and he starts to breathe heavily. Snowball does not notice this as
aside his opera cape and pulls out a mouse-sized revolver. The Brain gasps
he sees this.]
Brain: Don't do this, Snowball!
[Silver Daze whinnies again in fear]
Snowball: Sorry, Brain, but I'm a preservationist. Or, rather, a
[Cut to a Snowball POV as we see the pistol aimed straight at Silver
Cut to Snowball]
Snowball: Good-bye Silver Daze. Nothing personal, you understand...
[With that, and with an inarticulate cry of rage, Pinky hurls himself
He hits Snowball just as the shot goes off, causing the shot to go wide.
Daze is now dancing up and down in fear and whinning loudly. Brain turns to
Pinky chop hard at Snowball's gun arm, knocking the gun away..]
Pinky: [in tones of extreme rage]
BLACKGUARD! VILLAIN! SCOUNDREL! SWINE! [each of these words being
punctuated by a slap at Snowball]
AND ... [pausing in thought]
umm... other really evil names! (Poit!)
[Cut to POV of Brain, observing the fight. He turns to the
Brain: [to no one in particular]
Do not mock a love-stricten mouse...
[Suddenly, he notices lots of movement to his side, and looks at
Silver Daze, still
whinning, and the reins flying freely around. Brain sees his chance, and
grab Silver Daze's reins.]
[Cut to Pinky, who shoves a very disheveled Snowball hard up against a
to Snowball POV, as he sees an enraged Pinky, with a fist drawn back]
Pinky: Any last words?
[Cut to Snowball, who is sporting scratches and the beginning of a
Snowball: Um...yes...before you administer that, could you ask Diana Rigg
to give me her autograph? [Points behind Pinky]
Pinky: [confused; he lets go of Snowball and turns around]
Diana Rigg? Where?
[Snowball ducks away, fast. Cut to Brain, who has control over the
reins but not
much else, as Silver Daze is still dancing about and noisily expressing her
Brain: [being soothing and worried at the same time]
There, there, Silver Daze, everyth-
[Brain suddenly catches a hoof right on top of him, and he is forced
to let go. Cut
to a shot of the horse running out of the stable. Cut back to a shot of
a flattened mess on the floor. Pinky walks into the shot, camera
Pinky: Sorry, Brain, but Snowball got away. Uh, Brain???
Brain: [muffled, and with a weary note]
Most unfortunate Pinky, I've lost my quarry, too.
[Pinky, with a look of concern, reaches down and pulls up Brain,
shaking him back
into what is fairly near his normal shape, except for a number of bruises and
Pinky: Should we go after Snowball, or Silver Daze, Brain?
Brain: [shaking his head, partly to clear it and partly in response]
Forget Snowball, Pinky. No doubt he has fled at top speed. No, we must
Silver Daze, and quickly, while the trail is fresh!
[The mice quickly step outside the stable. It is night, and we cut to
the sky, as
the first clap of thunder is heard. Cut back to the mice as the rain starts
down heavily. The mice call out for Silver Daze, with no success.]
Pinky: Zounds, Brain! Where do you think she's gone? How can we trace
Brain: [looking up, annoyed]
We won't be able to trace her in this weather, Pinky.
[The mice turn sadly back into the stable.]
Pinky: Gee, I hope Silver Daze is all right. Where do you think she'll
Brain: I can only hope that her instincts will lead her back to her home
Pinky. In the meantime, we have work to do. Let us bind up Mr. Striker, and
him over to the authorities. Tomorrow we can check in with Colonel Roast.
[Brain pauses, and turns with gleaming eyes to Pinky.]
Then, Pinky, we may lay the solution to the case in his lap, on the very day
Grand National. Come, Pinky.
[As the mice talk and retreat into the stable, the camera pans through
the rain right.
It stops as we make out three figures in the rain a short distance from the
One is of a horse, the other is a short, stout man. The third man is tall,
seems to be wearing a deerstalker hat. The tall man is leading the horse
screen, and out of sight into the gloom. Dissolve out.]
Act VI: The Homestretch
[Dissolve into an overhead shot of the Aintree steeplechase racetrack,
The stands are filled to capacity, and as we zoom in on the track we see a
of horses being paraded in. The crowd is in a festive mood, as we cut to the
touts shouting out the odds. Accompanied by their theme, the Warner Siblings,
dressed in appropriate garb (morning dress for Yakko and Wakko, and, in the
of Dot, a fetching hat and dress), race in the foreground, and are shortly
by Ralph, who is dressed in a bobby's uniform that doesn't quite fit him,
helmet. They disappear screen left as we zoom in on the mice, who are
[Cut to a portion of the odds board, which shows the following
#10 Fruenleven (Owner:Earl of Kress) 9 to 2
#11 Chimes at Midnight (Owner: Duc de la Marche) 11 to 1
#12 Unitedstatescanadamexicopanama (Owner: Dr. R. Paulsen, FRCS) 15 to
#13 Silver Daze (Owner: Col. S.J. Roast, DSO) 66 to 1
#14 Pinnacle (Owner: Rt. Hon. Sir. E. Neverend, CMG, PC, MP) 7 to
Cut to a POV showing the mice, who are also in morning dress, with
grey toppers and
gloves. Pinky is wearing a pair mouse-sized binoculars around his
Brain: Most interesting, Pinky. We've seen neither hide nor hair of Silver
yet the Colonel insists on keeping him in the race. Extraordinary odds,
66 to 1! People must think Silver Daze has been upset by this.
Pinky: [hand to chin]
Hmmm...maybe I shout take a flutter, and put a shilling, or even a
Silver Daze. (Poit!)
Brain: Pinky, your confidence in Silver Daze is commendable, but may I remind
we are still investigating this case? We have no time for personal gain.
Scotland Yard was pleased to receive Striker, we have yet to bring the case to
closure, and win the applause this is rightfully ours!
Pinky: [scanning the crowd, with a worried look]
Brain, do you think Snowball will show up?
Brain: I can't rule it out, Pinky. Come, let us talk to the Colonel and see
he has to tell us.
[Cut to the stalls. In one box, we see the Colonel, also in morning
with Luke and Cody, who are well-scrubbed and dressed. The Colonel is
racing hard with a frown on this face and the boys look around eagerly, taking
the sights. The mice, walking on the railing, approach on the box and call
Brain: Colonel? Colonel Roast!
Col.: Eh? Who's that? [peers around his card and spots the
Ah, bless my soul, if it isn't Mr. Dupin and Dr. Columbo. Well, exciting
Cody: [to Luke]
Oi, they still look like mice to me.
Luke: [to Cody]
Brain: [ignoring the comment]
Yes, Colonel, a fine day for racing. You seem awfully chipper, Colonel.
Daze has returned, then?
Col.: Well, that's the rummy thing. Got this delivered to me this morning
[reaches into his coat and pulls out a telegram, which he hands to
Brain: [reading from the telegram]
"HAVE SECURED SILVER DAZE STOP KEEP HORSE IN RACE STOP WILL HANDLE
Col.: Yes, well, I decided to throw caution to the winds and keep the horse
We'll see what turns up. Odds don't look very good, though.
[Pinky, who has been looking through his binoculars, turns to the
Pinky: (Poit!) Isn't that your horse, number 13?
Col.: Yes, that's...[starts, and peers through his
hang on, that's not my horse...my horse is grey, not brown...
[Cut to the Colonel's POV through the lenses. Horse #13 looks
to Silver Daze, and is being led by Nathan, who is looking at the horse with a
Brain: [who has been looking through another pair of mouse-sized
How very strange...come, Doctor, we must investigate this at once.
Pinky: Oooh, I think we ought to investigate that first [points with a
very worried look off screen]
[Brain turns and we cut to his POV. We see two figures that are at
the turn near
the backstretch, looking intently over the rail. One figure has his back to
the other is Wilkerson.]
Brain: Good heavens, Dr. Columbo. [Turns to the Colonel]
Please excuse us sir, but we believe a dreadful crime is about to be
and we must stop it.
Col.: Great Scott, Mr. Dupin! What should I do?
Brain: Contact the authorities. [Jumping off the railing]
Come, Dr. Columbo!
Pinky: Right behind you, Mr. Dupin! (Poit!)
[The mice land and the ground, and we see them weave their way through
the crowd of
feet. We cut to the horses being led into the starting gate, as the
the crowd builds. The racing anthem sounds from a bandstand, indicating the
gun is near. We cut to a closer shot of Wilkerson and the other man, and see
is very nervous, and looks like he is trying to hide something under his
But..but Mr. Grates? Surely we shouldn't be doing this in the open...?
[Cut to front of Grates, who looks non-descript in his morning dress;
voice bears a VERY striking resemblance to Snowball's]
Grates: Silence, you idiot. If you hadn't panicked and run with your tail
your legs to Holmes, we wouldn't be here. We *have* to deal with this horse
I swore to that pompous fool Roast that his horse wouldn't cross the finish
and I'm a man of my word.
Wilkerson: But..shooting a horse in *midrace*? Why not do it now?
Grates: Because it would be easy to identify the culprit now. If we do it on
backstretch, everyone will assume the horse has stumbled, because the roar of
crowd will cover up the sound of the shot. We sneak away during the chaos,
is that. Now, concentrate!
[We cut back to the starting gate as the gun goes off, the gates fly
open, and the
horses thunder out. The crowd begins to roar. The mice are still fighting
way through the crowd, getting closer and closer to Grates and Wilkerson.
and we cut to a shot of the horses leaping over a steeplechase obstacle. We
cut to Wilkerson,
who has pulled out a revolver, and is starting to aim it at the horses. Cut to
Brain: Oh, my! We'll never get there in time to stop them. Quick, Pinky!
of your clothes!
Brain: We must venture onto the track and distract the horses. We must spoil
[Cut to the race as #13 is neck and neck with three other horses over
a jump. Cut
to Pinky and the Brain, without their clothes, as they dash out onto the
stop in the middle.]
[Both of the mice stick their fingers in their ears, cross their eyes,
and dance about.]
Pinky and Brain: Booga! Booga! Booga!
[The horses see this, and pull up, although horse #13 has a bit of a
glint of recognizition
in her eyes.]
[Cut to Wilkerson firing a shot.]
[Cut back to the horses, who race off as soon as they hear the shot,
[Cut back to Wilkerson, who turns to say something to Grates, only to
find that he
has vanished. Wilkerson races off in panic, shoving people out of his
[Cut to the mice in the track.]
Brain: [Turning to Pinky]
Y-e-e-e-e-s-s-s! Success, Pinky! We've saved the horses!
Pinky: [Looking up with an air of doom]
Uuuh, that's nice. What about us, now?
[Cut to mouse-level POV as we see a mass of horse hooves coming toward
[Cut back to Brain, who wears a dejected look on his face. He reaches
into a pocket,
pulls out first one blindfold, then another. He hands one to Pinky, who puts
on as Brain puts his on. They stand, side-by side, arms behind their back,
for the horses.]
[Cut to a side shot of the horses thundering over the mice, #13 in the
[Cut to a roaring crowd.]
[Cut to a fleeing Wilkerson, who stops in a passageway and looks
around. He sees
Grates, or, rather, the empty shell of an abandoned mechanical Grates without
head. Wilkerson turns first one way, and then the other, and we see from his
burly policemen starting to advance toward him.]
[Cut to the finish line, where #13 crosses the line first by a
[Cut to roaring crowd.]
[Cut to the winner's circle, as a proud but confused Colonel Roast
poses with #13
and an ebullient jockey before a camera operator with an old fashioned flash
mechanism, which goes off. #13 seems to be distracted, and is looking around
someone or something. Sherlock Holmes walks up to Colonel, screen
Holmes: My dear Colonel! A richly deserved victory!
Col.: Yes...but how? And where is Silver Daze?
Holmes: Why, surely you recognize your own horse, Colonel?
Col.: Surely that is no joking matter, Mr. Holmes!
Holmes: I never jest, Colonel. Observe.
[Holmes walks up to #13, takes out a cloth, and wipes at #13's face,
grey face of SIlver Daze, much to the astonishment of the jockey and Colonel
Col.: You take my breath away!
[Cut to the mice, who are lying prone on the track. Brain groggily
lifts his head
up and moans: ]
Brain: If you've taken his breath, can you give it to me? I've lost mine.
[Pinky's head struggles up, he emits a dazed "narf!" and he
too faints. Fade to black.]
Act VII: The Winner's Circle
[We fade into an exterior shot of 221B Baker Street, which in turn
a shot of the drawing room. Colonel Roast is on one side of the fire, in a
while Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson are on the other side, Holmes smoking a
and Watson taking notes.]
Holmes: So you see, it's really quite simple. Both Wilkerson and Striker
financial difficulties, Wilkerson from his embezzlements from the bank to feed
gambling habit, and Striker, with his expensive tastes in women's
[Cut to the cage, where Brain is in a purple robe, his head bandaged
is right behind him, with his arm in a sling and a bandage over one
Brain: Wrong, wrong, wrong...
[Cut back to the human group.]
Holmes: They needed to score a major financial coup to regain solvency. So
and Striker hatched out a scheme together to kidnap Silver Daze and fake the
of Striker. Silver Daze's absence would dramatically shift the odds. Hence
Mr. Wilkerson's shadowy appearance on the night in question.
[Cut back to the mice]
Brain: A misreading of the evidence...
[Cut back to the humans]
Holmes: And, of course, it was Striker who drugged the food. The whole thing
when Silver Daze, with that great natural instinct for danger, resisted and
her shoe, enabling me to trace where she had gone. With Striker out of the
[Cut back to the mice]
Brain: No thanks to you, my dear Holmes...
[Cut back to the humans]
Holmes: I secured Silver Daze, and preserved her incognito, so as to foil
last efforts to knock Silver Daze out of the race. [Holmes puts his
pipe in his mouth, and sits back in triumph.]
Colonel: But what of that "Mr. Grates"? He appears to have
disappeared into thin
air. Surely he was involved in this plot!
Holmes: I fear that your Mr. Grates was my arch-nemesis, Prof. Moriarty, in
The Yard found a billfold at the racetrack belonging to one "Mr.
would seem to indicate that Moriarty has abandoned his disguise in favor of
I have informed the Yard of his disappearance, but I doubt anything will come
[Cut back to the mice]
Pinky: Zounds, Brain, what *did* happen to Snowball?
Brain: Most likely, he has fled back to his master, and is plotting his next
scheme. But worry not, Pinky, we shall be ready for him next time!
[Cut back to the humans]
Colonel: Wonderful! [Pauses]
I only wish Mr. Dupin and Dr. Columbo were here. I would reward them
Watson: Oh, I'm sure they got their just reward, Colonel.
Holmes: [lighting his pipe]
I'm sure they got just that, gentlemen!
[The humans chuckle over this. Cut back to the cage, where Brain
stalks away angrily
from the edge of the cage.]
Brain: Laugh while you can, gentlemen. Your mirth will only last until
Pinky: Why, Brain? What are we going to do tomorrow night?
Brain: [picking up a little mouse-sized violin and bow]
Tomorrow night? The same thing we do every night, Pinky... [Cut to
a close up of the Brain]
Try to take over the world!
[Brain shoulders the violin, and starts to play the PatB closing
theme. We cut to
the outside of 221B in a high shot, as we hear: "They're dinky, they're
the Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain....", followed by a brief snatch of
music. Iris out.]
This document is Copyright (C) 1996 by Michael K. Neylon
and Eric O. Costello (firstname.lastname@example.org). All rights reserved.
The characters of Pinky and the Brain, Animaniacs and related ones are
trademark Warner Bros. Animation, and are used without permission. Their use
this work of fiction is in no way, meant to infringe or steal that copyright,
to dilute the characters themselves. No profit on the part of the author is
made from this
document, and this document is used only for entertainment purposes. If there
any legal problems with this document, please contact the authors to make
to take of these legal difficulties.
The character of Sherlock Holmes and related characters are the
creation of Sir Arthur
This work may be freely distributed in any media as long as it is not
its original form, and that no money is charged for the document itself. It
included on any archive collection under the same terms.
Thanks to Andrew J. "NeuCoyote" Chinnici
(email@example.com) and Andrew "Trakko"
Fram (firstname.lastname@example.org) for proofing and suggestions.
Back to Foxhound's pastiche page