No Shit, Sherlock

"Watson..." Sherlock whispered, a sharp chill running up his spine, "I think I've just had an awful realisation."

Something terrible had dawned upon him; for his thitherto radiant countenance had been subdued and drained of colour, and his voice trembled with dread. He was pacing back and forth, mumbling under his breath - the room had turn icy-cold; and every word Sherlock uttered forth emanated in a cloud of dank vapour.

"What is it, Sir?" enquired Watson.

"Watson - it's GCSE Science. I've been taking a look at the documents... Writing poetry to MPs; swallowing propaganda about Global Warming: I've got a terrible feeling this isn't rigorous." He drew in a deep breath, and mustered all the courage in his soul. "Watson - I think GCSE Science has been dumbed down."

"Sir - it can't be true! Tell me it's not true, sir; tell me it's not true!!"

Sherlock grabbed him by the shoulders. "Pull yourself together man! You must stay strong." He shivered with alarm. "They must not know about this - this will tear the nation in two - this kind of revelation - there'll be riots on the streets - people just will not believe it!"

Watson was crippled with incredulity. "No. No. It just can't be true. I won't accept it."

"Watson! This is our chance to stand as men. Faced with the Absurd, the despair, the bottomless pit of doom, we must stand and be counted. Yes, GCSE Science has lost its value; yes, this might mean the end of the world as we know it. But let one thing be remembered: the world will know that few stood against many; this day we rescue a world from mysticism and tyranny and usher in a future brighter than anything we can imagine. " He stood up, straightened, resolved.

"TONIGHT, WE DINE IN HELL!!!!!!!"