"Hmmmmm", said Holmes tapping his disgustingly smelly pipe absently against the heel of his expertly polished brogues, scattering ash over carpet, trousers, brogues, and my open pocket-book, into which I was trying to record the details of our most recent escapade.
"Your problem is that you are looking for a title for your trifling notes about my accomplishments which you like to share with your ninnyhead friends."
"Steady on, old chap", I interjected, "if it wasn't for the ninnyheads, you wouldn't be famous across the land as That Thin Bloke With A Pipe. And you would have many fewer pounds, shillings and pence to spend on opium and tobacco."
The seriousness of the message seemed to grip the great man, and his attention came upon me like a great searchlight, of 10 or even 15 candlepower.
"The case we have just solved - and in a short time too - was a case about a missing case, was it not, Watson?" I concurred, and gesticulated that Holmes was to go on.
"And your complaint is that calling an episode, 'The case of the missing case' would make us seem like a pair of homonymisers, do I have it corrently in my mind?" I assented again, hoping that the spring sunshine outside shoudl not be wasted, and that a solution to our difficulty was soon to be with us.
"So is there any difficulty with the name being....... simply put....... quite snappy I think....... how about......'THE CASE'?"
Of course I recognised the genius of the plan immediately, wrote it in my pocket book and sent the whole bally lot around to the publishers immediately. What joy to be near so giant an intellect!
