In case you missed this exchange, Erudita Squalidus inspired me to write a Sherlock Holmes fanfic. Jenny "Rotten" Apples, I hope you're okay being the star of the first (only?) installment (obviously, if you are not, let me know and I'll change it).
It was a quiet night, by all accounts, on Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson had just collected the dishes from our tea. There was weather, causing my old war injury to act up, and I was trying to get comfortable on the chaise. Sherlock was muttering over his chemistry set, in one of his moods.
Suddenly, there was a rushed, hurried knock at the door. I crossed the room and opened it, and a terrified looking woman burst in.
"Is this the residence of Sherlock Holmes?" she asked, out of breath and trembling. Sherlock, not looking up from his experiments, held his hand up to signal his displeasure at being disrupted.
"You'll have to excuse him, he does not like to be disturbed when working on his scientific pursuits," I apologized, "would you like me to take your coat? Mrs. Hudson can bring down a cup of warm tea for you. Please, warm up. Now what brings you to 221B Baker Street?"
"My name is Jenny Apples," she said, "and I come on a most urgent mission. I am from the High Council of GroupThink, and something... something TERRIBLE has happened!"
"There there now, it can't be all that bad! Why don't you tell old Watson what happened?" I did my best to comfort the hysterical woman; she was clearly distraught over something.
"Well you see, the High Council of GroupThink is..."
"AaaaaHAH!" The noise shot out of Sherlock like a bullet into the wall, and our guest stopped her story.
"Finally taken note of us, have you, Sherlock?"
"I knew it. I just KNEW those Americans couldn't have gotten it right. Those so-called "
'Mythbusters' claimed that the allegedly "ancient" art of Chinese water torture actually worked, but as I have proven on this stinkbug*, it is all psychosomatic."
"Actually, if you check "Yo, Is This Racist, you'll find that classifying something as a specifically nationalized or ethnically originated torture is indeed racist," our guest offered. Women and their ideas! Sherlock ignored this interruption. "The stinkbug didn't know that he was supposed to be feeling anything from the water, and so, it did nothing to him. No one can do anything to you mentally without your consent!"
"Once again, Mr. Holmes, I must correct you. Psychological ramifications are the fault of the aggressor, not..." Sherlock once again ignored what she said, but finally acknowledged her. "Why are you and what brings you here?"
"Why, Mr. Holmes, as I was just telling your associate, I am from the High Council of GroupThink. We are a very exclusive* society that has much power over the Internet. However, as we all know, power breeds dissent. There has, for some time, been an uneasy truce amongst two factions in the High Council: Team Cat and Team Dog. Most have sworn allegiance to one side or another, though some of us have held out. We believe there is room on the Internet and in our homes for all animals. We have cobbled together this détente and ensured that both Team Cat and Team Dog feel safe to post gifs on our very exclusive site."
"Yes yes yes, enough about that. You know I only take cases that interest me, and ladyproblems*** do not."
"Mr. Holmes, I don't think you understand what would happen to the Internet of Team Cat and Team Dog were in open war. You think it's bad now? How bad would it be without gifs to distract us from the terror of the trolls?"
"Yes, I'm sure you're doing us all a great service. But you know what they say: if you can't take the Internet, stay off the Internet."
"Mr. Holmes, I don't think you understand the severity of the problem: SOMEONE HAS STOLEN ALL THE CAT GIFS OFF THE INTERNET!"
* Bingo, Carlo$: I took your stinkbug to court. This was his punishment.
** In case this isn't clear, a reference to the person on mainpage who called us "exclusive"
***As much as we all love Sherlock, he gets a bit mainsplainy, doesn't he?