What Has Sherlock Dragged Me Into This Time? [Frankel]

[After 84 years, series four is finally here. It started off with a mediocre episode but I must say, I did enjoy the filler Abominable Bride, I got to mouth a gun. And well, I did look like Mr Sex in that wedding dress. But it is series 4, I have asked the world if they miss me and they do... of course they do. Although, Gatiss and Moffat don't though, where the bloody well am I?

Now look at me, a silly fan of the show has stolen the pen off of the worthless writers. I am trying to devise the final game for Sherlock but nooooooo, I am thrown into an 'Alternate Universe', as the useless fan writers call it. Something called the hunger games, well, I am hungry for fun.

"Come on Frankel dearest, give me all you have got."

A room full of weapons, the girl knows me.

"Bloody Hell did Sherlock drag me to kill your twat arse again? Where's a bullet I'll pull the trigger for you?"

A room full of that distraction of a doctor, the girl hates me.

"Hi darling. Kill me again? Ahh but dear, I never died. Miss me?"

He wants me to marry Sherlock, Frankel wants me to marry her. This shipping thing is rather strange and John's voice despite hearing a limited amount of it is becoming rather irritating.

"Oh blah blah blah, you are sooo whiney! You're like his pet you know, Sherlock's. I'd be jealous but the entirety of London is my own personal pet."

He comes charging towards me as the smirk remains on my face, something about stealing his cell phone. He takes advantage of my lack of height, throwing me against the wall. Being handled by a ex-soldier is rather arousing.

"Oh sweetheart, CELL PHONE? Have these Americans in here influenced you that much? No, I wouldn't want to handle your mangy mobile phone."

Sherlock brought John here. Frankel brought me to this damned nation, what the bloody well does she want me to do here anyway?

After John finally releases his beefy masculine grip from me, I brush off the dust from my Vivian Westwood suit. The Americans really need to attend to their filthy floors.

He mentions the hard on, I just shrug.

"Ooo I wouldn't know, I don't have a tracking device on him. Do you feel lost now? Like a lost puppy?" A childish tone takes over my voice as I talk to him as if he is a toddler. "Can't you live without him sunshine? I would feel sorry for you...if he were to ever die."

John exclaims he is a hedgehog and I get told I am the psychopathic one.

"You are quite insane."

Oh these two should really elope already, John and Sherlock. Although I'd love a good slice of SHERLOCK HOLMES, I admit, other than being changeable, my only other weakness is being envious, envious of Dr. John Watson. That Mary is a real distraction, I should really do something about her.

A table besides us hold a collection of real knives, I retrieve one, running my finger against the flat lf the blade as I talk.

"But I like to play games and well repetitive ones are booooooring! Maybe I could just kill you."

I grab John by his shirt, aiming the point of the knife to his neck, the blade being half an inch away from his skin.

"Now this a fun new game."