MYCROFT SCHWARZ, MATH DETECTIVE!

(Cross, a villain is snatching a priceless antique. His henchman, Felder, assists with all the heavy lifting.)

CROSS: Tee hee ha! No one will ever suspect us of foul play, Felder. And if they try to investigate the crime scene, I’ll stymie them up so much, they’ll be confounded until next Christmas!
FELDER: But how do you plan to do that, Mr. Cross?
CROSS: Simple. I’ll leave this impossible to solve math query. Good luck, police chumps!
FELDER: The square root of 15? Crakes, they’ll be scratching their heads over that one for a lifetime of head-scratches.
CROSS: Indeed, my dear, sweet, malfeasant ally. A lifetime of head-scratches indeed.

(They laugh in an evil manner. Then they take the antique quickly, as the alarm is triggered. We cut to the City Police Department, where Mycroft is showing off his enormous powers to Chief Tanny.)

MYCROFT: Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, sir. Six times six equals thirty-six.
TANNY: (After a stunned pause.) How… do you DO that?
MYCROFT: It’s a gift, but it’s also a curse, Chief.
TANNY: Zounds! I can see how it’s a gift, but a curse? Homina wha?
MYCROFT: It’s… difficult for me to explain without the aid of a Venn Diagram.
TANNY: The deuce, you say.
MYCROFT: I never said two…

(Cadet Koppel races into the Chief’s office, spoiling the delicious ambience the room had until then wallowed in.)

KOPPEL: Chief, Chief, big news, big news!
TANNY: News? Big? Expectorate it, Cadet Koppel, straightaways!
KOPPEL: The World’s Most Priceless Antique, it’s been- it’s been-
TANNY: What? Been what, has it been?
KOPPEL: Stolen, Chief Tanny, it’s been stolen.
TANNY: Stolen, as if it were a common antique. How dare they!
KOPPEL: But- but- that’s not all, Chief. There’s actually more!
TANNY: I refuse to believe it!
KOPPEL: But there is! They left this clue behind.
MYCROFT: Let me see that.
KOPPEL: I’m afraid I can’t authorize you to be able to snatch that from me, stranger. You do not have the snatching authorization.
TANNY: Cadet Koppel, this is the estimable Mycroft Schwarz, Math Detective. And as the Chief Tanny, I bestow all over him full snatch authorization.
MYCROFT: Thank you, Chief. Why… this is a mathematical clue!
TANNY: Saints preserve us! What kind of foul, shady, no-good unpreserved-by-saints crook would leave such a clue?
MYCROFT: Only one. Plus one.
KOPPEL: One plus one? You don’t mean…
MYCROFT: The deuce, I say. Namely, those deuces are named Cross and Felder. And those deuces have left one doozy of a problem, here. The square root of 15. This shall take all of my mathematical knowledge, and even then, I can’t be certain I can solve it.
TANNY: Surely you jest, Senor Schwarz.
MYCROFT: Nay, I dare not jest when it comes to the mathematical sciences. It would be like spitting in the crack of the Creator.
KOPPEL: Gasp!
MYCROFT: I must retire to my Math Lab to calculate this equation. I shall return only when and ONLY when I have solved it.
TANNY: Saints prepackage us; we shall await your return.
KOPPEL: Do I have to?

(We see Mycroft crumpling papers, banging his head on his desk, drinking heavily, writing and erasing and re-writing on a clear board, typing into a computer, and finally, asleep at his desk, he arises with a look of triumph on his face. We then cut to Cross and Felder, sipping cocoa, their feet propped up on the priceless antique.)

CROSS: Where’d you get this cocoa from anyway?
FELDER: It’s Swiss Miss.
CROSS: No way! But it tastes so creamy and fresh, you’d hardly tell it was instant.
FELDER: Oh, I agree. Swiss Miss makes the best cocoa ever. Aside from the homemade stuff.
CROSS: Oh, this doesn’t hold a candle to that.

(Mycroft bursts in.)

MYCROFT: Looking for something?
CROSS: Mycroft Schwarz, my sworn enemy! Where you been?
MYCROFT: Waiting, waiting for the right moment.
FELDER: How did you find us? And where?
MYCROFT: Pretty sneaky clue you left behind, it took me the better part of a scene to solve it, but then I knew I’d find you here- at 3.8729833462074168851792653997824 Brookview Avenue.
CROSS: Curses!
TANNY: You’ll be cursing a lot. In jail.
KOPPEL: That’s right. Jail cursing.
TANNY: Say, is that the curse you were talking about before, Mycroft?
MYCROFT: Not even close, you magnificent asshat.

(Everyone laughs at Mycroft’s piercing wit. Then it’s The End.)