So little did we know, not only was Sherlock staying at wherever the Hell he was staying in the show, but he was also staying at a hotel that was 70-80% parking lot and haunted by the undead. However, this wasn't a traditional haunted hotel where the undead interfere with what's happening, they merely create an environment where bad things are bound to happen. A guy who clearly isn't Moriarty but could possibly be a relative of Moriarty sneaks into the hotel. Faux-Moriarty steals something of Sherlock's, couldn't really tell, though I figure it was his soul.
Sherlock chases Faux-Moriarty into a pretty big boiler room. 2 1/2 stories high and a relatively perfect rectangle. After this long chase, Faux-Moriarty reveals himself to be Papa Emeritus II from Ghost B.C., pictured here. Papa Emeritus then takes out some sort of flaming blade object (this part gets foggy) and cuts open individual pipes, releasing sewage fluid. (So apparently it's a boiler/sewer.) Because Sherlock is smart like this, he climbs on top of a chain platform standing near the ceiling in the center of the boiler room...even though the windows are totally open. Papa Emeritus then dumps the flaming blade object into the flood of raw sewage. The room fills up, and there are individual layers of sewage composed of different taboos of the human body (blood, shit, flesh, unmentionable things), but all completely toxic and flammable. While Sherlock thinks he's safe perched atop the chain platform, the explosion causes the platform to tip over and send Sherlock into the pool of flaming shit.
This causes a plague of food poisoning in most shrimp. Except for jumbo shrimp. And we're not talking about regular jumbo shrimp. Like, think about dicks for a second. ([https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/bheemadacashman2013 #IDaCashman2013]). There are small dicks, there are big dicks, and then there are porn stars. (#IDaCashman2013). Now, you'd be thinking "oh this is where the vegans and the hippies come in and complain that these shrimps are farmed in Ohio and given a crapton of steroids like professional wrestlers." NOPE. This is where a bunch of 14 year old girls in sleeveless shirts and short shorts start complaining. You wanna know why they're complaining? Because they're at a buffet, and the sign says "Please pick up a clean dish each visit." And you'd think "but that's how all buffets work." Yeah, except each time they go up they only pick out one shrimp. So they're gonna have to like pick up a crapton of dishes. And I'm like "Well if you're gonna do that, why don't you just pick out one shrimp individually and just leave the plate you wanna use at the table?"
Moral of the story: Godzillafan01, don't ever come near my drum set again or I'll show you my uncle's bad smoking habits.
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''This story was the product of I, Da Cashman's mid-sleep hallucinations.''