Sherlock Holmes: Event: Special Brownies
As anxious as Holmes was to test his new formula, he knew that using anesthetic gas on men on ladders and wielding acetylene torches would be detrimental, if not downright dangerous. So he went to the pub. Surely, if someone suddenly passed out there it wouldn’t be noticed, or if it was, would just be passed over as someone being deep in their cups. Holmes strolled in eagerly, looking around for (a) possible test subject(s). However, it seemed that several of the regulars were already affected by something. Holmes observed closely. The scar-faced man in the gray sweatshirt, laughing into his plate. A very bemused looking Captain. And even Professor McGonagall had let her hair down. How very interesting! Holmes slowed his pace, aiming for his usual booth in the back. It wasn’t anything in the air, for Dora was acting completely normal, and if were any airborne substance, she (and Val, though Holmes was unsure of his actual physical makeup) would have been most affected, being smaller than everyone else. Also, he could detect no incipient symptoms in himself. And it wasn’t merely alcohol, for he had never known the professor to overindulge. Not in public anyway. Something they’d eaten then. Holmes noticed the specials board, the plate of brownies on display and the half-eaten treats and the crumb-covered napkins in front of those acting other than usual. “Ah,” he muttered to himself. That must be it. Holmes picked up a brownie and sniffed it delicately. He nodded to himself as he detected the unmistakable odour of tetrahydrocannabinol. He’d read something about this, although it had been hashish in that case. He was curious what people had done to make Ivonka resort to such a thing and what Xellos might say when he returned from his holiday. Oh well. Holmes shrugged and carried the brownie to his table. Nothing wrong with having a sweet. Even Watson couldn’t object to a brownie. Holmes settled into the booth and took a huge bite.