by Jaime Robledo

www.stagerights.com WATSON: THE LAST GREAT TALE OF THE LEGENDARY Copyright © 2010 by Jaime Robledo All Rights Reserved

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ORIGINAL PRODUCTION NOTES Watson: The Last Great Tale of The Legendary Sherlock Holmes originally premiered at Sacred Fools Theater Company, Los Angeles California on November 5, 2010.

Originally produced by Brandon Clark, French Stewart, and Brian Wallis

Director - Jaime Robledo Scenic Designer - Erin Brewster Costume Designer - Jessica Olson Lighting Designer - Matt Richter Sound Designer - Ben Rock Fight Choreographer - Andrew Amani Choreographers - Natasha Norman & Ceasar F. Barajas Assistant Director - Monica Greene Stage Manager - Suze Campagna

Cast Dr. John H. Watson - Scott Leggett Sherlock Holmes - Joe Fria Sigmund Freud & Queen Victoria - French Stewart Professor James Moriarty - Henry Dittman - Eric Curtis Johnson - Rebecca Larsen Mary Morstan Watson - Cj Merriman

Stagehands - Lisa Anne Nicolai, Colin Willkie, Jennefer Ludwigsen, Andrew Amani

Original music composed by Ryan Thomas Johnson

Original artwork by Corey Klemow

CHARACTERS 4F, 7M JOHN WATSON: Male, mid 30s to mid 40s. The agreeable and bumbling sidekick to Sherlock Holmes who becomes a hero. SHERLOCK HOLMES: Male, mid 30s to early 40s. Arrogant, tortured, and paranoid with a romantic streak. Adept at physical comedy. : Male, late 30s to late 40s. The reptilian arch-nemesis of Sherlock Holmes. Will begin the play as a stagehand as well as play six characters in Victoria Station. SIGMUND FREUD: Male or female, early 40s to early 50s. Zany Austrian doctor with unusual methodology. Will potentially double as Queen Victoria. MARY MARSTON: Female, mid 20s to mid 30s. The concerned, understanding wife of John Watson. Must sing. IRENE ADLER: Female, mid 20s to mid 30s. Tough, brash, and intelligent. She is the only woman to outsmart Sherlock Holmes. MYCROFT: Male, late 30s to late 40s. Snide, unkempt, and quick with an insult. He is Sherlock's older, smarter, brother. STAGEHANDS: All types and ethnicities; male and female. They play actual stagehands, moving set pieces on, off and around the stage as well as various supporting characters throughout the play. Must be athletic and versatile actors who can play several distinct characters within the course of the play. The stagehands almost never leave the stage and play an integral part in the story’s action and the play’s theatricality.

PRODUCTION NOTE In the original production, the actor playing Sigmund Freud doubled up as Queen Victoria. Also, the stagehands broke down as two men and two women with Mary and Mycroft as separate characters. The cast number and breakdown is flexible according to the needs of the producing company.

TECHNICAL REQUIREMENTS Simplest works best for Watson. Flexibility and mobility of the set is very important. The action set pieces are done on individual elements of Baker Street, so they should be light enough to be moved by every actor and strong enough to be jumped on by every actor. Bentwood chairs, wooden crates, bookcases, and steamer trunks should all be reinforced. A working chandelier which flies in and out of Baker Street that also serves as the hot air balloon is not necessary but adds tremendously to the beauty and verisimilitude of the balloon scene. Because the stage is empty for most of the play, and because of the iconic nature of the characters, costumes should be as authentic to the period as possible. Most characters wear one costume. Some characters double up. Mary and Irene both double as the woman in white. Freud doubles as Victoria. The stagehands should be simply and uniformly costumed in shirt, slacks, and a vest. Any ensemble characters they play are denoted by hats. Moriarty begins the play as a stagehand, but adds on costume pieces to become the notorious Professor. Lastly, the script calls for a Punch and Judy stage and puppets with the likenesses of Sultan Abdul Hamid, Tsar Alexander III, and Queen Victoria. These puppets can be as simple or as detailed as you choose.

SETTING Simple settings suggesting Baker Street, a steam train, Paris, Vienna, and the Court of Queen Victoria

RUN TIME 1 Hour, 45 Minutes

WATSON: THE LAST GREAT TALE OF THE LEGENDARY SHERLOCK HOLMES – PRODUCTION SCRIPT 1

ACT I

SCENE 1 221 B BAKER STREET (1894) Overlapping muslin sheets drape from a crumbling proscenium. A single light illuminates JOHN WATSON, late 30s carrying a medical bag and puffing on his pipe. We hear the gravelly voice of a GYPSY. GYPSY (O.S.) Dormant, yet not abandoned. 221 B. Baker Street. Just as you left it after Mr. Holmes’ passing. WATSON I am here at your urging. Lights up on the hunched and ragged figure. GYPSY Many leaves whither; their stories go untold... WATSON Forty-two secrets forever kept to behold. Your note is still in my possession. And for what am I supposed to be looking? GYPSY What you seek is not inside, but within. Your story is not yet written, John Watson. You must dig deeper. She points up to Baker Street. WATSON looks. WATSON Dig deeper? I don’t understand. I’ve done what you asked. What do you want of me? GYPSY The question is, “what do you want of yourself?” He turns around, but she has disappeared back into darkness. WATSON Well that was god damned cryptic. Music plays as the lights shift to illuminate behind the sheets. STAGEHANDS enter; their shadows cast on the fabric. The stagehands, ever so orderly, pull them down to reveal 221 B Baker Street. They methodically move the set elements into place. A chandelier hovers above. A parlor of a Victorian flat fills the space. A large rug covers the creaky wooden floor. Stage right is the door leading into the flat. Large steamer trunks are piled toward the rear. Two gaslight sconces are mounted above. Muslin cloths cover a walnut desk and drapes over several other pieces of furniture. Several bookless bookcases stand in various states of disrepair.

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Small crates filled with books and papers are stacked on and around the desk. A doorway stage left leads to the rest of the flat. Violet curtains cover the windows. The STAGEHANDS exit, turning out the last light as they go. A door squeaks open as WATSON enters. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a pipe and a match which he subsequently strikes. He takes a couple of puffs and then uses the still-burning match to light a gaslight lamp. WATSON (CONT’D) Many leaves wither; Their stories go untold. Forty-two secrets forever kept to behold. Hmmm...“Many leaves whither.” A leaf is a page. What is 42, but two 21s. 221 Baker Street. Many pages whither at Baker Street. Pages… secrets… WATSON scans the room. Watson moves boxes, pulls sheets down, open trunks as he searches the parlor. He crosses to the desk opening drawers with no luck. Watson looks through some boxes and flips through various papers. He digs through a box on the desk, pulling out a worn leather bound manuscript with hand written pages. How could I have forgotten? WATSON flips through several pages before getting to the first one. He begins to read from it. The Last Great Tale of the Legendary Sherlock Holmes as told by his Trusted Friend and Colleague, Doctor John H. Watson. Hmm. The title is longer than I remember. (back to reading) What I may report within these pages could be described as mere fantasy or flights of whimsy; I can assure you they are not. To understand what occurred here, I ask first and foremost for your forgiveness. WATSON abandons reading and directly addresses the audience. As he does so, the lights shift and four STAGEHANDS enter, dressed simply and uniformly in shirt, vest, and dark trousers. They begin to dismantle the Baker Street. It is with a heavy heart that I admit to sheer fabrication in my last work entitled “,” where Professor James Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes plummet to their deaths down Reichenbach Falls. Holmes’ demise occurred quite differently than I first reported in Strand Magazine. For you see, this true accounting could only come to light after a reasonable amount of time when events have played out to their natural conclusions and history could wash away any transgressions. Now that that has been squared away, I must bring you back to 1891, where most of our adventures began; right here at 221 B Baker Street. The flat served as offices to both Holmes and me, although I had been living in Kensington with my wife Mary for some time. I had come to visit at Holmes’ request. He was in quite a state, to say the least as he had been left to his own devices.

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SCENE 2 221 B BAKER STREET (1891) The lights shift again. Baker Street is now a skeleton of what it was. Four windows seem to suspend in mid air. The doors are alone in space, and most of the furniture, save for chairs, a couple of steamer trunks and a bookcase are all that populate the empty Victorian Music Hall stage. Strains of Ravel’s Bolero begin to play as lights come up dim on an unkempt SHERLOCK HOLMES slumping in a chair. Holmes produces a small leather pouch from his pocket. He unzips it and takes out a syringe. He takes off his belt, ties it around his arm: holding it fast with his teeth, and clenches his fist. WATSON I would be derelict to tiptoe around the illness which gripped the great Sherlock Holmes. You see, these trips of toxic desperation would ultimately fuel the journey contained in the following pages. HOLMES plunges the needle into the crook of his arm and the whole stage turns blue. THE WOMAN IN WHITE, enters; beautiful and ethereal. She bids him to stand. He rises, the needle still in his arm, and they dance a pas de deux. She floats away, leaving Holmes in his seat, nodded out. WATSON looks on. It was in this state that he first ensnared me into working on this case of international intrigue. A case which dealt with a topic that often leapt from his lips. HOLMES jolts awake. HOLMES Turks. Viler than the bubonic plague. Always craving for war. A pox on the realm. Cunning, suspicious, dangerous Turks. WATSON Holmes has a preternatural mistrust of Turks. HOLMES I mean, is it Istanbul or Constantinople? Constantinople or Istanbul? WATSON (to Holmes) No matter, it’s nobody’s business but the Turks’, no? No? HOLMES Bah! Mr. Watson, do you trust me with your life? WATSON Explicitly. HOLMES Good. Is Mrs. Watson home? WATSON She’s in the country with her parents for the season.

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HOLMES Then it makes it easier for me to propose you come away with me to the Continent for a short time. WATSON (aside) When unofficial duties became quite official, naturally I was called upon to assist. And since Holmes rarely stuck to the convention of a good night’s rest, neither would I. HOLMES walks over to WATSON and snatches the manuscript; tossing it to the ground. The lights shift and Watson is fully part of the scene. HOLMES Enough. All this chronicling is making me ill at ease. WATSON picks up his manuscript from the floor and a pencil from the desk. WATSON Ill at ease? HOLMES Stop that writing. Stop. Would you stop? Stop the damned… Stop writing! Just… take mental notes, for god's sake. We are about to embark on a mission requiring the highest of secrecy and I cannot afford for you to be blathering on to whoever pays attention to your god-awful narrative. There are eyes and ears everywhere. HOLMES produces a small gilded metal box, with a safe embedded on the cover. WATSON Oh, my. What a fancy box. The carvings seem both Greek and Assyrian in nature; perhaps belying a Cypriot origin. May I? HOLMES Don’t touch it. WATSON What’s in it? HOLMES That is classified. I mustn’t exposit in too great a depth for fear of them getting to you and by extension, it. Now, how familiar are you with the Near East? WATSON (aside) And there it began. Holmes had been receiving confidential cables from his contact for some weeks. Cables revolving around the embattled island of Cyprus. As WATSON recounts his story, a map of Europe and the Near East is lit on the stage, revealing Her Royal Highness, VICTORIA Queen Regnant of the United Kingdom and Ireland and Empress of India of the British Raj.

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As WATSON speaks, EACH STAGEHAND brings in a puppet, one made up as a Turk, complete with fez; the other made up to be a Russian, with thick beard and fur hat. The stagehands prepare the puppets and QUEEN VICTORIA sticks her hands inside. WATSON (CONT’D) For you see, this is a time of great international tensions. Maps redrawn, alliances formed, and resources fought over. Alexander the Third of Russia and Sultan Abdulhamid of the Ottoman Empire were engaged in a bloody battle over its borders; Cyprus being a prized territory. Britain played policeman and puppeteer to the world and the British intercession into the Russo- Ottoman Turkish war caused great resentment in my colleague. HOLMES Mr. Watson, while you were asleep last night, I took the liberty of sneaking into your home, stealthily as it were, helping myself to the food in your cupboard, and packing several weeks worth of clothes. They have been forwarded to Victoria Station via Hansom Cab. We, on the other hand, must take a separate one. The Menace is ever-present. HOLMES peeks out the windows; ducking out of sight. WATSON (aside) This was not the first time I heard him speak of The Menace. (to Holmes) Menace, Holmes? HOLMES It's all about us. It comes from every angle and we must be wary of it. It transforms, like mist: appearing in many shapes and sizes. Particularly as that bastard Professor Moriarty. WATSON (aside) Were these the paranoid musing of an addict, I wondered? HOLMES Let’s away. I don’t trust it here. HOLMES whistles. A stagehand moves two chairs to center stage and stands behind them. The lights shift as WATSON and Holmes sit.

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SCENE 3 STREETS OF LONDON STAGEHAND Cab, sir? HOLMES Yes, Holland park, quickly. WATSON Holland Park? That’s nowhere near Victoria Sta— HOLMES Shhhh. The Menace hears all. Holland Park! The STAGEHAND, HOLMES and WATSON, all step in synchronicity mimicking the clip-clop of the horse. WATSON Holmes, I demand to know the meaning of all this, this instant. What is in that box? From who are we running? HOLMES I can’t have you knowing everything right away, now can I? This is for your own safety. WATSON Safety? We are perfectly safe. HOLMES Are we? Are we? Just yesterday I was nearly run over by a two-horse van on the Wellback Street Crossing; a shadowy figure held the reins. Then, early this morning as I walked down Vere Street, a brick came down from the roof of one of the houses and shattered at my feet. The same dark figure appeared to hide in one of the houses and got clean away. Now I fear he, it, is everywhere. The Professor is a tricky one, he is. Driver, half a guinea if you get there in twenty minutes. WATSON Are you speaking of Professor Moriarty? Your old tutor. HOLMES Like an octopus, his tentacles reach far and in many directions. He is a dangerous man, Watson. The Napoleon of Crime. Although he is mired in suspicion, he is publicly above reproach. This past month I decided to keep a closer eye on my subject. Moriarty kept to a normal schedule, mostly staying at home, until that is I received the Palace’s instructions via wire from my brother Mycroft, he vanished and the attempts on my life began. He’s gotten closer and closer and I’ve had to change my tactics. The game is most certainly on the other foot. Driver, halt. The cab comes to a stop and HOLMES exits. Quit dawdling, there is precious little time. Out. Out out out. The lights shift as WATSON exits the cab. The first STAGEHAND removes the chairs and TWO OTHER STAGEHANDS enter carrying a large piece of muslin. Hurry. The London Fog, fast approaches.

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WATSON (aside) The dun-colored veil hung over the house-tops. London would soon be shrouded by choking pall. The stagehands slowly unroll the fabric. HOLMES Moriarty and his minions in the underworld will come at us again. The Menace wishes to see us separated. It is most important that we stay together. The stagehands pull the fabric taut, cutting Holmes off from Watson. WATSON Holmes? Holmes? They search for each other, sometimes catching sight of one another; other times being obscured by the fog. Eventually they find one another. The STAGEHANDS exit with the sheet as the sound of the rail station cuts through their bickering. A STAGEHAND enters, setting up four coat racks, each with different hats.

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SCENE 4 VICTORIA STATION HOLMES Ah, there it is. Victoria Station. WATSON Splendid. And where exactly are we headed? HOLMES Cyprus. WATSON That is not “the continent.” My Mary— HOLMES You can message her from the station. If I told you our destination, you would not have agreed to accompany me. I need two weeks. Give me two weeks. I know the journey may be arduous, but it is extremely important. WATSON And apparently dangerous. HOLMES When has danger ever dissuaded us, Watson? Never. That’s when. This package must get to Cyprus, come hell or cold water. HOLMES nods out, leaning on WATSON. WATSON Holmes? Holmes! WATSON tries to ease the box away from HOLMES. Holmes snaps to attention, clutching at it. HOLMES Ah! There it is. Victoria Station. We mustn’t dilly dally, old boy, adventure awaits. We must keep sharp. There he is! WATSON Where who is? He points in several directions. HOLMES There! There! WATSON I see nothing, Holmes. HOLMES Who is that? Who is that? WATSON The conductor?

WATSON: THE LAST GREAT TALE OF THE LEGENDARY SHERLOCK HOLMES – PRODUCTION SCRIPT 9

HOLMES Who is it, really? The STAGEHAND puts on a hat and crosses the stage. Every time he changes hats, he is a new character. STAGEHAND (Conductor) Dover Priory! Dover Priory! The connection from Victoria to the Priory leaves in 10 minutes. This is your last call to board the last train to Dover Priory. HOLMES I don’t like the looks of him. Everyone at this station is suspect. WATSON Suspect? HOLMES The conductor. You never can tell who is under the spell of Moriarty. WATSON You’ve given Moriarty much greater power than any one man is capable of possessing. You should see him in your tea if brewed dark enough. STAGEHAND (Conductor) Last call to Dover! Dover Priory! Evening, Sir. M’lady! STAGEHAND (Husband) Excuse me, sir? Is it too late to purchase fare? STAGEHAND (Conductor) I’m afraid so, sir. We’re all booked. The next train departs in 6 hours. STAGEHAND (Husband) Six hours? STAGEHAND (Wife) Six hours?!? STAGEHAND (Husband) Please dear, men are talking. STAGEHAND (Wife) The gall. STAGEHAND (Husband) We need to get to Swingate. My wife… her mother is ill.

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STAGEHAND (Conductor) My apologies, there’s nothing to be done. STAGEHAND (Wife) Unbelievable! STAGEHAND (Boy; tugging at the Conductor) Sir, sir, sir. Excuse me, sir. Sir, sir, sir, sir. STAGEHAND (Conductor; to couple) My apologies again. This turnover was an aberration. STAGEHAND (Conductor; to Boy) Not now. STAGEHAND (Husband) Perhaps you should see what the boy wants. STAGEHAND (Conductor) What is it you little urchin? STAGEHAND (Boy) Spare some tuppence? STAGEHAND (Conductor) Don’t make me call the authorities. STAGEHAND (Boy) Please, sir. I’m the 13th of 12 children, I am. The BOY exits. STAGEHAND (Husband) Are you sure there is nothing to be done? STAGEHAND (Conductor) No, nothing. If you’ll forgive me. Last call for Dover! Last call! All aboard! STAGEHAND (Wife) I will never forgive you for this, Harold. Never! The WIFE exits.

WATSON: THE LAST GREAT TALE OF THE LEGENDARY SHERLOCK HOLMES – PRODUCTION SCRIPT 11

STAGEHAND (Husband) Darling, please. Where are you going? Florence. The HUSBAND follows after. The STAGEHAND is at another coat rack and switches to the boy’s hat. STAGEHAND (Boy) Sir, sir, sir. WATSON Yes? STAGEHAND (Boy) Spare some tuppence? WATSON takes out a coin from his pocket. HOLMES Don’t give it to him, Watson. WATSON He is a child, Holmes. (to the Boy) There you go. STAGEHAND (Boy) Thank you, sir. STAGEHAND (Officer) Is this child harassing you gentlemen? HOLMES Yes! WATSON No, he’s fine. Holmes, enough. STAGEHAND (Officer) All right, come along now. Out you go. STAGEHAND (Boy) Officer, I did nothing wrong. The OFFICER and BOY “exit” as the stagehand moves to another coat rack. Two men, an EFFETE and an ELITE squabble back and forth. STAGEHAND (Effete) This scarf is most glorious, I picked it up from a Turk merchant.

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STAGEHAND (Elite) You still buy from the Turks? STAGEHAND (Effete) Please, that war was years ago. STAGEHAND (Elite) I still don’t trust them as far as they can sink when I throw them off a pier. STAGEHAND (Effete) How vulgar. STAGEHAND (Elite) Vulgar is their attitude. Save them from the Russians and they still act ungrateful. STAGEHAND (Effete) Vulgar is your hairline. The more I see it, the more I wonder if it’s real at all. The EFFETE and ELITE “exit.” The STAGEHAND puts on the conductor hat once more. STAGEHAND (Conductor) The train to Dover Priory is now departing. Dover Priory! Board! Board! Board! The STAGEHAND leaves the stage with a coat rack. The lights shift as the OTHER STAGEHANDS enter. They take down the other coat racks and slide two steamer trunks center stage. WATSON (aside) As we stepped onto the train, Holmes’ paranoia subsided. We found our cabin and then departed. The lights shift. WATSON and HOLMES sit and shake, as passengers do. We hear sounds of a rumbling steam train.

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SCENE 5 THE TRAIN WATSON (aside) The hustle and bustle of Victoria Station seemed to stir his fantods, which were to be quite shaky to begin with. In his mania, Holmes managed only to pack shirts and right shoes. HOLMES We must always be on our guard. We don’t want to be caught with an over-abundance of trousers. There’s that look of yours. You’re troubled. WATSON No, I’m not. HOLMES Yes you are, friend, and I’m going to deduce why. WATSON I don’t want you— HOLMES Tut tut tut. WATSON Holmes— HOLMES I. Am. Deducing. Is it animal, vegetable or mineral? WATSON Seriously? HOLMES Don’t be difficult. WATSON Neither. HOLMES Is it bigger than a bread basket? WATSON Really? HOLMES It is a bread basket. WATSON Enough. HOLMES Why are you upset about a bread basket? WATSON It’s not a bread basket. It’s my wife.

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HOLMES (proudly) Ah, I see. It’s your wife. WATSON No shit… you! MARY MORSTAN WATSON appears; apparition-like in front of him. I didn’t bid Mary farewell when she took to the country, and she has no earthly idea where I am. How that worries me so. MARY (singing; underneath) THE SKY ABOVE THE ROOF IS CALM AND SWEET A TREE ABOVE THE ROOF BENDS IN THE HEAT AH GOD! A LIFE IS HERE SIMPLE AND FAIR MURMURS OF STRIFE ARE HERE LOST IN THE AIR WATSON She sings, you know. When I pack for our many excursions, knowing we’d be gone for days on end she would prepare breakfast and a tea and sing the most stirring songs. It’s her voice, the promise of seeing her upon my return, which keeps me coming home. MARY Dearest Hamish, I hope this letter finds you well. I have expedited my visit to father. Although I am uncertain as to the length of your current undertaking, I trust you will again find your way home. Be careful, John. Stay close to Holmes, and please, please… do remember to write. Always, Mary. He reaches for her, but she disappears. WATSON I did not so much as see her face before I left, she’d already gone. This bodes quite ill for us. HOLMES I don’t understand the attachment to your wife. You behave as she is some sort of talisman. WATSON If you found the right woman… if you found any woman, you’d understand. This whole enterprise makes me nervous. HOLMES Poppycock! Mere superstishhhhh. Did you hear that? WATSON No one knows who we are or where we are headed. We are traveling under assumed names. HOLMES Turks. Their odor is quite distinct. I can smell the stench of poverty and cumin wafting in from the windows. HOLMES jumps on the floor, sniffing at it. He rubs on a spot on the floor.

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HOLMES This pipe ash is quite peculiar and foreign. Not like my pipe ash over there. Hello. A seed. HOLMES stands and shows it to WATSON. Being an amateur tobacconist, I can tell straight away this is the rare Heirloom Bafra seed; a Turkish smoker’s delight. WATSON I beg to differ— HOLMES When I want your input, Watson, I’ll ask for it. Strange to find it on a local. The attendants— I knew it. We are being watched. This must be remedied. Stay here. If I’m not back in five minutes… well, you’re on a train. You can’t really go anywhere, can you? WATSON Do you need a hand? HOLMES No no. Stay here. There’s only room for one hero. WATSON (disappointed) Naturally. HOLMES Besides, it would be a pity mastering Baritsu without getting to use it. Back in a jif. There you go. HOLMES hands the box to WATSON. Watson inspects it. Once you open the box, it cannot be closed, so no peeking. HOLMES exits as the lights shift. The STAGEHANDS set up three chairs stage right. A shaft of light spans the stage. Holmes “enters” and crosses slowly, navigating the train compartments. The stagehands move the chairs into different configurations and stand or sit in different positions, depending on the compartment. Midway through, a STAGEHAND wraps a sash around his head and sneaks behind Holmes. Holmes sniffs. Turks. They move through another compartment and reach the end of the train. The TURK pounces. HOLMES fends off the attacker, and leaps out of the compartment. The other STAGEHANDS have lined up the steamer trunks and a bookcase in a semi-circle. Lights shift again, as we are now atop the train. Holmes is followed by the FIRST VILLAIN, they battle, but the Turk is knocked out on top of the train car. Holmes tries to make his way across the other side, but it blocked by other Turks. ONE rushes at him. Sherlock evades a series of strikes and kicks the Turk onto another train car. Holmes is immediately attacked and held over the edge of the train by a THIRD TURK. With a smooth piece of footwork, Holmes reverses the move. The first Turk has recovered and runs at the pair on the center car. Holmes swings his Turk around to catch the brunt of the kick in the crotch.

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