It was a foggy day in Trottingham, so thick that one couldn’t see the end of their own muzzle. On this particular day, two stallions, who were roommates and best of friends, sat in their flat reading the newspaper and smoking their pipes. It was peaceful until a headline caught the eye of one of the stallions.
‘Inspector Lestrot Captures the Jewel Thief’
‘The great inspector captures the miscreant with some assistance from Sherclop Holmes.’
“What a load of rubbish!” exclaimed a light brown Earth Pony with a blond mane and moustache.
“What is, Dr. Trotson?” asked a light purple Earth Pony with a bored look on his face.
“Look at this article!” the one called Dr. Trotson said as he handed the other stallion the paper.
The purple pony took the newspaper and began reading the article.
“Well?” Dr. Trotson asked with a hint of irritation. “What do you think about that, Sherclop?”
Sherclop sighed. “I don’t see what the big issue is,” he replied calmly.
“Really?” Trotson exclaimed. “The newspaper made it seem like you did next to nothing to solve it, when you practically figured out the whole ordeal yourself.”
“Dr. Trotson, did we or did we not, get our payment for solving the case?” Sherclop asked sarcastically.
“Well, yes,” Trotson said sheepishly.
“Then there is nothing to be upset about.”
Dr. Trotson cleared his throat. “Sorry about that, I suppose that I acted ungentlecoltly.”
“Yes, you did,” Sherclop responded.
Dr. Trotson shook his head, grinning from Sherclop’s curt yet honest response. He had been roommates with Sherclop for almost two years, and yet Trotson still didn’t fully understand him.
Dr. Trotson remembered back when he first met Sherclop Holmes.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
Almost two years ago
Dr. John Trotson limped down the corridors of the Trottingham General hospital.
Having recently been discharged from the Royal Army due to a foreleg injury, Trotson was looking for comfortable living at a reasonable price. One of his friends had told him that a pony named Sherclop Holmes was looking for someone to share a flat with.
Trotson remembered his friend’s words.
“He’s pleasant enough, but just warnin’ ye, Sherclop’s a bit of a odd fella,” his Scoltish friend had said.
Dr. Trotson shook his head and went into the room where he was told Sherclop was at.
When he entered he saw a most peculiar sight. There was a thin, light purple stallion with a dark brown mane and a bee as his cutie mark. That wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was the fact that this stallion was hitting a cadaver with a stick.
“What in Faust’s name are you doing?” Trotson asked with a tone of shock.
“I am merely seeing if a body can bruise after death,” the odd stallion stated calmly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
The light purple Earth Pony stopped hitting the corpse and took a close look at it with a magnifying glass.
“Fascinating,” he muttered.
Trotson cleared his throat.
“My name is Dr. John Trotson, you must be Mr. Holmes.”
The light purple stallion looked up from his examination.
“You would be correct, Dr. Trotson,” he said, turning to face Trotson. “How were the sands of Saddle Arabia when you were posted there on army duty?”
“How in Equestria did you know that I worked for the Royal Army?” Dr. Trotson asked with surprise. “Or the fact that I was stationed in Saddle Arabia for that matter?”
“Well, it was written all over you,” Sherclop said with a smile. “You have the air of a military pony, your build, the way you carry yourself, etcetera, and judging by your rough hooves and your sun burnt skin, I’d guess you were not in temperate Canterlot. You were honorably discharged after you got injured in what I would guess to be a tatzelwurm attack, correct?”
“Amazing,” Dr. Trotson muttered. “You are correct on all counts.”
Sherclop scratched his chin. “Although I am curious as to why you have sought me out, Dr. Trotson,” he mused.
“Oh, right, I forgot!” said Trotson as he facehoofed. “Are you still looking for somepony to share a flat with?”
“Hmm, well that depends,” Sherclop said as he started packing his tools up. “Do you mind if I practice my violin?”
“Oh no, I rather like the violin, when it is played well!” Trotson said, chuckling.
“That’s nice,” Sherclop said. “But I’m afraid I am not that good at playing it.”
“Oh,” Dr. Trotson said as he mulled it over in his head. “Well, I suppose that’s alright.”
“Excellent!” Sherclop said enthusiastically. “If you wish, we could take a look at the flat now.”
“That sound like a bully idea, Mr. Holmes!” said Trotson as he followed Sherclop to his new home.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
Back in the present
Dr. Trotson smiled at the memory. Since he had met Holmes, they had gone on some interesting adventures.
A knock on the door interrupted his reminiscing.
“I’ll get it,” Sherclop said as he made his way to the door.
Upon opening the door, he saw a Pegasus in Royal Guard armor.
The Pegasus looked at Sherclop and asked, “Are you Sherclop Holmes?”
Sherclop was taken aback for a moment, but recovered quickly.
“I am he,” he responded.
The Pegasus handed Sherclop a letter. “This is for you, then.”
Sherclop took the letter and said a quick ‘thank you’.
The Pegasus nodded and trotted away.
"I wonder why a Royal Guard came to our flat,' Sherclop wondered to himself as he closed the door.
“Who is the letter from?” Trotson asked.
“Well, let’s see,” Sherclop said as he opened the letter.
Sherclop read the letter in silence.
“Well, what does it say?” Trotson asked excitedly.
Sherclop said nothing, but held up two golden tickets.
“A-are those…” Trotson stammered.
“Tickets to the Gala? Yes,” Sherclop stated calmly.
“That’s incredible, Holmes!” Trotson said excitedly. “How in Equestria did you manage to get those?”
“I didn’t,” Sherclop said, shaking his head. “We have been summoned to go there.”
“By whom?” Trotson inquired.
“By Princess Celestia herself,” Sherclop said with a twinkle in his eye. “Apparently, we have a case.”
“A case from the Princess herself?” Dr. Trotson asked nervously. “That is quite the honor!”
“Come along, Trotson, we have a train to catch!” Sherclop said.
The two stallions packed their bags and boarded the train to Canterlot , ready to start what would probably be the greatest case of their lives. ���