When assorted people start having inexplicable delusions that lead to their deaths, a teenage Sherlock Holmes decides to investigate.

Hotel Receptionist: Can I help you?
Ehtar: I'd like a room, please.
Hotel Receptionist: Please, sign here.
[Ehtar signs "Moriarty."]
Sherlock Holmes: The game is afoot.
Sherlock Holmes: Ehtar! You're nothing but a damn fraud!
Ehtar: And you, Holmes, are letting your emotions get the better of you again!
Older Watson: It was the beginning of my second week at Brompton. With each passing day, my fascination with Sherlock Holmes and his world continued to grow. On this occasion, the entire school was bursting with excitement. Dudley had challenged Holmes to a test of ingenuity, skill, and perception. Dudley had snatched the school's fencing trophy and hidden it in a secret place. He gave Holmes sixty minutes to find the trophy. Holmes accepted the challenge with confidence.
Sherlock Holmes: The game is afoot!
[Mrs Dribb has locked Holmes and Watson in an upstairs room]
John Watson: I always suspected that becoming a friend of yours would end in disaster!
Waxflatter: Elementary, my dear Holmes... elementary.
Lestrade: I despise your arrogance.
Sherlock Holmes: And I despise your laziness.
Older Watson: It was a cold, snowy day in early December. Lack of funds had forced my old school to close. I was being sent to a new one in the middle of term. I was accustomed to the opened, relaxed expanse of the country, and now, I was in the heart of London at the height of the Victorian Era. The streets were teeming with every activity imaginable. I was very taken by what I saw. As I stepped from my carriage, the sight of my new school filled me with fear and apprehension, yet, I was swept with a wave of curiosity. However, nothing could prepare me for the extraordinary adventure that lay ahead, or the extraordinary individual who would change my life.
Sherlock Holmes: Sherlock Holmes, jealous? My dear, that word does not enter my vocabulary.
Elizabeth Hardy: Neither does punctuality.
John Watson: [after a hallucination involving food] Yes, Mister French Pastry. I have nothing whatsoever to say to you. I trust you have nothing to say to me.
Sherlock Holmes: A great detective relies on perception, intelligence, and imagination.
Lestrade: [amused] Where'd you get that rubbish from?
Sherlock Holmes: It's framed on the wall behind you.
John Watson: [to Holmes] Well, I knew it. This is the end of my medical career. My father's going to be furious. I always knew that making friends with you would end up in disaster.
Older Watson: Holmes explained that the fabric was Egyptian in origin and contained so many warp threads and weft threads, things that to this day I still don't understand. He found that the cloth was stained with paraffin, paraffin manufactured exclusively at Froggit and Froggit, located in the Wapping area of London, a dark and dangerous place, and I turned to Holmes and I told him so in no uncertain terms.
Master Snelgrove: [when Holmes is framed for cheating by Dudley] Well, Holmes! It seems we've finally discovered the secret to your intelligence!
Sherlock Holmes: [to the school chefs after dropping through a window] Excuse me.
Elizabeth Hardy: [giving Holmes Waxflatter's hat] Uncle would have wanted you to have this.
John Watson: Put it on!
[Holmes puts it on and Watson and Elizabeth start laughing]
John Watson: On second thoughts, take it off! It looks very silly!
Older Watson: It was a wonderful, heroic moment for Holmes. But little did he know that his amazing powers and talents would soon be put to a much greater test, a test of terrifying and deadly proportions.
[last lines]
Waxflatter: Ehtar... Ehtar. Ehtar, Holmes. Ehtar.
Sherlock Holmes: [during a hallucination] Please don't cry, Mother. Please. Don't you understand, Mother? Can't you hear me? Can't you hear what I'm saying? Mother!
Mr. Holmes: You! This is all your fault, son! How could you do such a thing to me? To your own father? Spying on me!
Sherlock Holmes: Forgive me, Father. Please, I - I didn't realise.
Mr. Holmes: My private life is my own! Your mother need never have known!
Sherlock Holmes: No! No! No! This is not real! This is *not* real!
Older Watson: [epilogue] As I watched Holmes settle into his seat, a sudden feeling came over me - that I would most certainly be seeing him again. So ended my first adventure with Mister Sherlock Holmes. As I watched his carriage disappear into the distance, I realised that I had forgotten to thank him. He had taken a weak, frightened boy and made him into a courageous, strong man. My heart soared. I was filled with confidence. I was ready for whatever mystery or danger lay ahead. I was ready to take on the greatest and most exciting adventure of them all, and I knew it was bound to involve Sherlock Holmes.
John Watson: I can't afford to jeopardise my medical career!
Sherlock Holmes: Weasel.
John Watson: I'm not a weasel. I am... practical.
Sherlock Holmes: Weasels *are* practical. And I imagined you courageous and stout of heart.
John Watson: I am courageous. And I'm stout of heart. It's just that... oh, all right. I'll do it.
Mrs. Dribb: [about Elizabeth] What will we do with her?
Ehtar: We'll take her with us. We still need the fifth princess.
[Over dinner, the student are discussing what they will do in later life]
John Watson: I want to be a doctor.
Dudley: Nobody asked you!
John Watson: Sorry!
Rathe: Holmes, remember what I always taught you: control your emotions or they will be your downfall.
Older Watson: We immediately sprang into action, searching every nook and cranny for the cloth. I accidentally turned on one of Waxflatter's strange machines, and not being at all mechanically-minded, I had the dickens of a time trying to turn the thing off.
Elizabeth Hardy: I found it! I found it!
Older Watson: Holmes spent the entire night and the following day studying, examining, scrutinising the section of cloth. He conducted experiment after experiment. Not once did he stop for a rest. His energy seemed boundless. Following eighteen straight hours of work, Holmes turned to Elizabeth and myself, and those four familiar words shot from his lips.
Sherlock Holmes: The game is afoot!
[Waxflatter has crashed his flying machine into a tree]
Waxflatter: [looking around] A very hopeful sign. Very hopeful!
[while flying]
Sherlock Holmes: I've just realised something.
John Watson: What?
Sherlock Holmes: I have absolutely no idea how to land this machine.
Older Watson: A few days later, they buried Professor Waxflatter. I had never been to a funeral before, though unfortunately, I've been to many since. Holmes could not publicly attend the funeral. His expulsion from Brompton prevented such a thing. The death of his mentor and friend had taken its toll on Sherlock Holmes. In my entire life, I have only seen Holmes cry on two occasions. To-day was the first.
[Holmes has climbed onto the roof in search of a missing trophy]
Master Snelgrove: This is truly despicable. Imagine, a cultured student acting like a chimpanzee!
Mrs. Dribb: He'll probably outgrow it. Oh Mr Snelgrove, he's just having a bit of fun. I'm sure you still remember what fun was?
Master Snelgrove: Fun! Besides, this Holmes boy is too precocious, too egotistical, for his own good. Hell never find that trophy!
Rathe: I'll wager a guinea he does!
Master Snelgrove: Done!
[Holmes, Watson and Elizabeth help Waxflatter carry the wrecked flying machine up the stairs to the attic]
Waxflatter: Let me see, that makes six! Six failed attemps. Nevertheless, we shall not be defeated. We shall conquer. I have made up my mind. The conquest of the skies is well within my grasp!
John Waston: [to Elizabeth] He's done this six times!
[in order to obtain information about the blowpipe, Watson is forced to make a purchase from a curiosity shop]
Sherlock Holmes: Why on earth did you buy a pipe?
John Watson: It looks distinguished!
Sherlock Holmes: It's perfectly ridiculous!
John Watson: What have I gotten myself into?
Sherlock Holmes: The adventure of a lifetime, Watson.
[upon crashing through the floor]
Sherlock Holmes: This is an interesting development.
[about the violin]
Sherlock Holmes: I should've mastered the damn thing by now.
John Watson: How long have you been playing?
Sherlock Holmes: Three days.
Cragwitch: [hallucinating, attacks Holmes and tries to strangle him] EH TAR! You filthy murderer! You wanted to kill us all! Well you won't kill me!
Sherlock Holmes: Watson! Speak to him!
John Watson: What? Oh! Your... your name is Craddy Critchwit! I mean, your name is Ch-...! Your name is...! What's his name?
Sherlock Holmes: [Choking] Cragwitch!
Sherlock Holmes: Answers without evidence are useless.
[repeated line]
Sherlock Holmes: Good show, Watson!
John Watson: Amazing, Holmes. Simply amazing. Of course, you did forget one very important clue.
Sherlock Holmes: Oh? Please enlighten me.
John Watson: Well, "Rathe" is "Ehtar" spelled backwards.
Sherlock Holmes: Very clever, Watson. Well, I'm certain I would have arrived at that conclusion sooner or later.
John Watson: [smiling] Sooner or later.
Schoolboys: Holmes is going to solve a crime.
Sherlock Holmes: Someday we'll be reunited. In another world, a much better world.
Elizabeth Hardy: I'll be waiting. And you'll be late... as always.
Cragwitch: We were to become business partners, all six of us. Borrowed money from our fathers in building a hotel. It would be the most luxurious hotel ever conceived. And where but to build? Egypt. Labour and materials were inexpensive, and only a few years earlier, the British Army had driven out the French. It seemed a land of extreme opportunity.
Sherlock Holmes: What happened?
Cragwitch: We engaged an architect, and the work began... but what started out as a business venture soon became a major archaeological find. We discovered an underground pyramid. The ancient tombs of five Egyptian princesses. We removed all the relics and treasures, preparing to send them to England, but -
[Cragwitch is struck by a thorn]
Cragwitch: Ooh! Bloody insect. The place needs good cleaning. There was an uproar. All the villages in the area were convinced we'd desecrated sacred ground. Our lives were in danger. The British sent the troops in. Several people were killed.
[Stares into the fireplace]
Cragwitch: The entire village was burned to the ground. Burned... fire...
[Begins hallucinating]
[the trio have found a wooden pyramid]
John Watson: Holmes, there's a door here!
[Turning to Elizabeth]
John Watson: Fancy him missing a door!
Dudley: I want to enlist in the army. A general.
Dudley's Friend: Generals don't make any money. I would prefer to be an author.
Dudley: Authors don't make money.
Boy: I want to be a barrister.
Dudley's Friend: Barristers make money.
John Watson: Holmes, wait! I know why the bear is white!
Sherlock Holmes: And why is that, Watson?
John Watson: Well, the only room with an all-southern view would be at the North Pole. It's a polar bear!
Sherlock Holmes: Bravo, Watson. You have the makings of a great detective.
John Watson: Dudley is going to pay dearly for this. Punch to the jaw, jab to the ribs...
Sherlock Holmes: Now, now, Watson. Revenge is sweetest when it's served up cold. Come on.
[Dudley enters with snow-white hair]
Dudley: Holmes. You did this. You're responsible, aren't you?
Sherlock Holmes: So that's where I dropped my chemistry experiment: into your tea. Oh, don't worry, old chap. It'll wear off shortly. You should be back to normal - by summertime.
[Holmes is about to smash his violin]
John Watson: Stop! Isn't it valuable?
Sherlock Holmes: What's more important, its value or my sanity?
[Holmes, Watson and Elizabeth are walking across the courtyard, when a voice causes them to look up]
Waxflatter: Holmes! Elizabeth! I think I have solved all of the problems!
John Watson: [looking up] Who's that?
Elizabeth Hardy: My Uncle.
Sherlock Holmes: Rupert T. Waxflatter. Retired schoolmaster, degrees in Chemistry and Biology, well versed in Philosophy, Mathematics and Physics. Author of 27 books.
[Holmes walks on]
Elizabeth Hardy: And most people think he's a lunatic.
[Elizabeth walks on]
John Watson: Why?
[Waxflatter launches his flying machine]
John Watson: Oh, my God!
Sherlock Holmes: Mister Lestrade! What are you doing here?
Lestrade: Oh, I accidentally stuck myself on one of those damn thorns. Goll, the hallucinations... ghastly. Took four policemen to stop me from hanging meself. Anyway, when it was over, I thought I better look into your story. Now, Holmes, I wish you and your podgy little friend farewell. I appreciate you getting me started on the case.
John Watson: That was a girl.
Sherlock Holmes: Brilliant deduction, Watson.
Ehtar: You cannot beat me, Holmes. Throw down your sword.
Sherlock Holmes: Never. I would rather die a gruesome and horrible death.
Ehtar: Very well, then I will oblige.
Cragwitch: [firing a shot at Holmes and Watson] Go away, Ramatep! Bloody murderers, go away! You won't get me!
Sherlock Holmes: Sir! Mister Cragwitch! We were friends of Mister Waxflatter!
Cragwitch: I know you! You're the youngster who followed me at the cemetery! Go away! I'm a dangerous man to be around!
Sherlock Holmes: I need your help! I want to know why the Ramatep killed five men!
Cragwitch: [reluctant pause] Go in!
Sherlock Holmes: You can get up now, Watson. The war's over.
Sherlock Holmes: You're sitting in a room with an all-southern view. Suddenly, a bear walks by the window. What colour is the bear?
John Watson: Red! The bear is red!
Sherlock Holmes: Why on Earth would the bear be red?
John Watson: The southern sun is very hot. The bear would be terribly burnt!
Sherlock Holmes: [laughs] That is the most absurd answer I've ever heard.
[Holmes and Watson visit an Egyptian style Tavern]
The Reverend Duncan Nesbitt: What can I get for you boys? Drink, food, women?
John Watson: Do you have any soup?
Sherlock Holmes: Watson, please!
[removing the blowpipe from his pocket]
Sherlock Holmes: Do you know anything about this?
The Reverend Duncan Nesbitt: [looking at the blowpipe] Rame Tep! Rame Tep! Rame Tep! Rame Tep! Rame Tep!
[the tavern falls silent]
John Watson: [turning to face Holmes] Is that the end of the song?
Older Watson: Holmes went on to explain that Rathe spent years plotting his revenge. He established himself as a respected member of British society, completely erasing his former identity. It took him a great deal of time to organise his followers, made up of the poor, the homeless, the lost souls of the London streets. And then, of course, it took time to build a wooden replica of the pyramid. Missus Dribb was the Ramatep's chief assassin, but more importantly, she was Rathe's younger sister.
John Watson: Holmes, wait. What if the murderer is inside?
Sherlock Holmes: Then I shall introduce myself to him.
[the trio have found a wooden pyramid]
John Watson: Holmes, there's a door here!
[turning to Elizabeth]
John Watson: Fancy him missing a door!
Cragwitch: Yes, I mustn't forget. I must pass on this information. It's time someone else knew EVERYTHING!
Sherlock Holmes: The Egyptian village, has it been burned to the ground?
Cragwitch: Yes...
[sees candle flames, slams his hand angrily against his desk]
Cragwitch: Yes! YES! Luckily we got out of Egypt with our lives. When we returned to England, we went our separate ways, all of us, however, keeping in constant touch with Waxflatter through regular correspondence. When the murders began, I met quite frequently with my dear friend.
Sherlock Holmes: What does all this have to do with the Ramatep?
Cragwitch: [Hands Holmes a letter] Almost a year after the incident, each one of us received this letter. It was sent by a young boy, a young boy of Anglo-Egyptian descent. You'll notice that the letterhead is adorned by the symbol of the Ramatep, two golden serpents. The boy who wrote the letter and his sister were staying in England with their grandfather when they learned of the destruction of the Egyptian village, the village which was their home. Both their parents were killed in the attack. The boy vowed when he grew to manhood that the Ramatep would take their revenge and replace the bodies of the five Egyptian princesses.
Sherlock Holmes: And the boy was called Ehtar.
John Watson: Ehtar... those were Waxflatter's final words!
Sherlock Holmes: Very good, Watson.
Sherlock Holmes: You can get up now, Watson. The war is over.
Sherlock Holmes: Why can't I think of anything?
John Watson: You're flustered. You must calm down.
Sherlock Holmes: Why can't you think of anything?
John Watson: I'm flustered.
[after Elizabeth finds a scrap of cloth, she accompanies Holmes and Watson to a deserted building in Wapping]
John Watson: I knew it, there's no-one here. Back to school, eh?
Sherlock Holmes: Watson, you'll be on your own!
Dudley: Only seconds left, Holmes. I assume you've given up.
Sherlock Holmes: Never assume anything, my good fellow.
Dudley: But Holmes, I see no sign of a trophy.
Sherlock Holmes: But I do.
[picks up a vase and prepares to shatter it]
Master Snelgrove: Stop! Holmes, have you gone mad? This is an antique!
[Holmes shatters the vase, revealing the stolen trophy]
Older Watson: Holmes went on to explain that the Ramatep were a fanatical group of religious followers of Osiris, the Egyptian god of the dead. They were scorned by society because of their distortion of traditional religious beliefs and their violent and sadistic rituals. The Ramatep use a blow pipe and shoot a thorn into their chosen victim. The thorn is dipped into a solution made up of various plant and root extracts. When this solution enters the bloodstream, it causes the victim to experience very realistic, nightmare-like hallucinations.
[Holmes and Watson visit an Egyptian style Tavern]
Egyptian Tavern Owner: What can I get for you boys? Drink, food, women?
John Watson: Do you have any soup?
Sherlock Holmes: Watson, please!
[removing the blowpipe from his pocket]
Sherlock Holmes: Do you know anything about this?
Egyptian Tavern Owner: [looking at the blowpipe] Ramatep! Ramatep! Ramatep! Ramatep! Ramatep!
[the tavern falls silent]
John Watson: [turning to face Holmes] Is that the end of the song?
[Mrs. Dribb has locked Holmes and Watson in an upstairs room]
John Watson: I always suspected that becoming a friend of yours would end in disaster!
Sherlock Holmes: Mr. Lestrade?
Lestrade: Holmes. It's been a long time. Three, four days since your last visit?
Sherlock Holmes: I believe I'm on to something
Lestrade: Oh, not again.
Sherlock Holmes: This time I'm certain of it.
Lestrade: Really. Just like last month when you were convinced that the French ambassador had embezzled 300 thousand pounds from the Bank of England?
Sherlock Holmes: I was close. It was the Russian ambassador.
Sherlock Holmes: Just have a quick look at these.
[hands Lestrade two obituaries]
Lestrade: A suicide and a carriage accident.
Sherlock Holmes: I suspect foul play.
Lestrade: Why? The two instances are completely unrelated.
Sherlock Holmes: Wrong. Both men graduated from the same university in 1809.
Lestrade: Coincidence.
Sherlock Holmes: Neither of their deaths fit their personalities. According to his obituary, Bobster was a happy man, content with his life, his career, his family. Why would he commit suicide? He didn't even leave a note. And Reverend Nesbitt is described by friends as "warm, loving, peaceful." And yet the carriage driver insists that he was crazed, insane, in a state of panic when he ran out into the street.
Lestrade: Holmes, a mere fluctuation of character is hardly sufficient evidence to begin an investigation. And if you want my advice, you'll keep your nose out of the Times and into your schoolbooks.
Sherlock Holmes: I appreciate your time, Mister Lestrade. I suggest you hold onto these.
[Lestrade shakes his head]
Sherlock Holmes: If I were a detective sergeant trapped in this room all day up to my neck in boring paperwork, I would be doing everything in my power to seek out that one case, that one investigation that would promote me to inspector.
Lestrade: [Irately] Good day, Holmes.
[Holmes and Elizabeth investigate a noise in the library, and find Watson on the floor, next to a ladder]
Sherlock Holmes: Elizabeth, let me introduce you to my new friend, the honourable, but clumsy, Watson.
John Watson: [standing up] The ladder's a bit wobbly.
Elizabeth Hardy: Hello.
Elizabeth Hardy: No. Uncle didn't kill himself.
John Watson: Well, then, what happened to him?
Sherlock Holmes: [entering suddenly through the window] He was murdered.

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