I am of the opinion though that Barry’s BC has nothing to do with his citizenship BUT the name of the father listed on said ORIGINAL BC.

Therein lies the mystery.

;-)

“The reason is…um, well…”

“Yes, yes” urged Holmes. “Speak, Mr Insane Osama!”

“That’s Hussein Obama to you”.

“Whatever. Pray let not discretion curb your no doubt most compelling disclosures!”

Mr Hussein Obama looked doubtfully around the room. “You, uh, gentlemen will understand my reluctance to, er, speak openly of a matter which is so personal, so urgent and of such import that, and I may say this without, um, any tint of hyperbole, the fortunes not only of myself but of an entire nation may rest upon the outcome of the, uh, doleful episode which I am on the very brink of disclosing to you, Mr Holmes, and to your sidekick Dr Watsup”.

“Watson! My name is Watson, dammit! And I’m not his sidekick! Show some respect! Now will you kindly quit stalling and spill the freaking beans?”

“Steady, Watson. My colleague grows hot, Mr Hussein Obama” soothed Holmes. “His old war wound must be playing him up, so do pray forgive his ebullition of emotion. Perhaps I may assist you to commence your no doubt most curious narrative?”

“About time too” I muttered.

“By all, uh, means, Mr Holmes” said our visitor.

“The case concerns a document, does it not? A document of some great personal significance, if I am not mistaken?”

At this intelligence Mr Hussein Obama’s eyes widened and he turned pale – or paler.

“This document” continued Holmes “would it be an Honourable Discharge from military service? No, no – I think not. You have not the appearance of a soldier. No way. Perhaps a document linking you to a certain organization – a church in Chicago maybe? – from which you wish to disassociate yourself?”

“You, er, strike nowhere near the mark, Mr Holmes” laughed Mr Hussein Obama nervously. “Perhaps the claims made concerning your alleged, uh, powers may be subject to some inflation?”

“Inflated? Not nearly so much as your resumé, Mr Hussein Obama” cried Holmes in a tone of triumph. “For the item concerned is in fact… your own birth certificate!”

At this announcement Mr Hussein Obama’s eyes rolled backwards and he swooned in a tangled heap at our feet.

“Well, that was unexpected” I remarked. “What’s up with him?”

Holmes lit his pipe – the ordinary one this time – and drew deeply. “It is no six pipe problem, Watson” he puffed. “I fear our Mr Hussein Obama is not all that he seems. Not an American citizen, at any rate, as the document in question will plainly show, and hence his great anxiety of mind and spirit”.

“So he wishes to destroy this incriminating item?”

“Not to destroy it, Watson – to find! To find and then to destroy, for as long as this scrap of Kenyan paper exists, Mr Hussein Obama’s big ass can never rest on his Oval Office chair with true security”.

“Astonishing! And you will help him to locate this natal attestation?”

“Watson, you see but you do not observe” admonished Holmes. “The document came into my possession some time ago – do you not recall the Mystery of the Leprous Liberal?”

“How could I forget? But what are your intentions?”

“I think we could do very well out of this business, old friend” confided Holmes. “This curious certificate is worth a great deal of money to our Mr Hussein Obama, you see – and this chap’s loaded! Let’s put the screws on him when he wakes up”.

“I say Holmes, you really are a genius! And with the blackmail money can we go somewhere warm? Perhaps Cancun or Phuket? This awful British climate, you know…”

“Of course, Watson!” chuckled Holmes. “Wherever you like. Now let’s go through his pockets…”

MEMORANDUM FOR THE HEADS OF EXECUTIVE DEPARTMENTS AND AGENCIES
SUBJECT: Transparency and Open Government

“My Administration is committed to creating an unprecedented level of openness in Government. We will work together to ensure the public trust and establish a system of transparency, public participation, and collaboration. Openness will strengthen our democracy and promote efficiency and effectiveness in Government.

Government should be transparent. Transparency promotes accountability and provides information for citizens about what their Government is doing. Information maintained by the Federal Government is a national asset. My Administration will take appropriate action, consistent with law and policy, to disclose information rapidly in forms that the public can readily find and use.”

So more “just words”.

Brilliant use of “The Scandal in Bohemia.”

I can tell you are a Sherlockian.

Barry as the Crown Prince….ROTFL

But who will be “The Woman?”

Guess I’ll have to stay tuned.

Looking forward to the next installment.

Really difficult to emulate Doyle’s sharp, intelligent, descriptive writing…..

You nailed it!!!

In a gesture with which, from long acquaintance, I was all too familiar, Holmes placed two of his marvellously elongated fingers across the nostrils of his aquiline nose and rubbed vigorously.

“Care for a toot, Watson?” enquired my old friend. “This is good blow”.

“It is poison, Holmes!“ I ejaculated. “The deadliest poison! How can you of all men pollute and disorient your senses, those very instruments of discernment which are so unique and which you have developed with such effort and care? As a physician and as a friend I implore you to free yourself from your thralldom to this loathsome narcotic!”

“Chill, Watson baby” soothed Holmes. “I’m just chippin’, man”.

“This ‘chipping’ as you call it Holmes, has all the seeming of a settled habit!”

“Ah, Watson!” exclaimed Holmes. “What would you have me do? It is ennui, vile ennui, which drives me to these soporific indulgences. My mind craves occupation! My spirit cries out for fresh adventure! Yet where are these things to be found that are the very meat and drink of life to me?”

I shrugged my tweed covered shoulders. He had me there.

“The crime pages of the newspapers are devoid of interest” continued the desperate detective. “No telegrams appear inviting me to consult on some curious aspect of a crime unsolved. No strangers ring our bell to importune my assistance. I am the world’s only consulting detective yet there is nothing for me to detect. No wonder that I seek for solace in the crack pipe, for I am, Watson, for the first time in my life, without employment!”

“It has been a little quiet” I admitted. “This economic thing…”

Holmes seized his violin and began to play some mournful air by Schubert.

“It’s Brahms, actually” corrected Holmes.

“Your powers of detection remain unimpaired, Holmes” I conceded. “At least you can still read. And here, unless I am greatly mistaken, comes the antidote to your oppressive ennui. There is a caller at our door!”

“Yes, the ringing of the bell does rather give him away. How do I look? Is my hair okay?”

As I reassured my old friend as to his appearance Mrs Hudson, our withered landlady, ushered in the stranger.

“A stranger to see you, Mr Holmes” she murmured and made her shuffling egress.

He to whom Mrs Hudson referred was a young man of most remarkable appearance: tall and lean, yet through his well cut dark suit my physician’s eye could observe a mammary development which was almost feminine. His skin was of a tawny hue, neither dark nor light, as with someone who had spent many years at alternates in the tropics and at the poles and his ears protruded from his narrow skull at a most curious angle.

“Am I, uh, addressing Mr Sherlock Holmes?” enquired the stranger, in a deep and resonant voice which pleased the ear to the same degree that his outward appearance confused the eye.

“I am Sherlock Holmes” announced Holmes, as one would expect. “This is my friend and colleague, Dr Watson. And who have I the pleasure to address?”

“My name is, um, Mr Barry Smith Jones” murmured the stranger. “I am, uh, from out of town“.

“Are you indeed? I think not” asserted Holmes, his eyes alight with new energy. “Pray dissemble no further for I shall tell you your true name and your true purpose… Mr Barack Hussein Obama!”

The stranger gasped in open surprise. “It is true! I, uh, am he – or he am me. Or something. Anyway, you are correct in your assertion” conceded the visitor. “But how, um, did you so quickly and correctly divine my identity?”

“My methods and their application are, I believe, well known to the public at large through the literary efforts – such as they are – of Watson here” lectured Holmes, somewhat to my irritation, the ungrateful jerk.

Holmes continued his exposition: “Your man boobs, your jug ears, your Halfrican complexion, your nicotine stained fingers, the teleprompters upon which you alternate your gaze, the copy of Newsweek in your pocket with your picture on the cover and the strap line ‘100 Reasons We Love Obama!’ – all these things, insignificant in themselves, together conspire to reveal your identity to the trained and objective eye”.

“I again, uh, confess myself amazed!” exclaimed Mr Hussein Obama, somewhat redundantly.

“Yeah, ditto” I muttered, still nettled by that ‘such as they are’ crack.

“And what can it be that brings the President of the United States, a son of Africa and the husband of the woman with the most toned and sculpted arms in all the world to the door of 221b Baker Street?” queried Holmes.

“Well, Mr Holmes” began the caller, with some hesitation. “The, um, reason is…”

What can that reason be? Huh? I have no idea… none at all. I got nothing. Sorry. Oh wait, this might be something…check out Chapter Two tomorrow!

I swear …….. last night I saw Barry jump the shark tank!!
Man, did he bomb or what? He REALLY sucked!!!
First it was the Fonz……… Now Barry………..I’m as giddy as ever!!

“BARTENDER!! A round of cheer for all my friends here at Sweetness and Light……….and put it on my tab, sir!!”
“CHEERS!!”