Sunday, 31 December 2000


As Doctor John Watson came down for breakfast on this warm September morning, he entered the study and found his friend and colleague, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, reading a letter that had just arrived.
    "Anything interesting?", asked Watson, seating himself at the dining table and pouring himself a cup of tea.

    "Hmm, yes.", replied Holmes. "A letter from the United States, from a Mr. Mick Foley."

    "Foley?", said Watson. "I'm not familiar with that name."

    "And neither should you be, Watson, for he is the Commissioner of the World Wrestling Federation."

    "Wrestling? Isn't that something to do with the Romans?"

    "Not this form of wrestling, Watson. This is sports entertainment, but that is another story entirely."

    Watson took a sip from his cup of tea, before deciding to leave it for a few moments to cool a little. He then set about eating his boiled egg. "So what does this Foley fellow want?", Watson asked.

    "Mr. Foley has asked for my help in solving a crime which took place some ten months ago."

    "Ten months? Why did he wait that long?"
    "The reason for the delay I will go into later. The crime itself is more important. For last November, a gentleman by the name of Stone Cold Steve Austin was due to paticipate in a wrestling match with two other gentlemen, one known as Triple H, and the other describing himself as The Rock."

    "So did he win?"

    "I'm afraid, Watson, that he did not even make it to the match. He was attacked, run over, by an automobile!"

    "An automobile? How dastardly! Who did it?"

    "That is what Mr. Foley has asked me to determine. It would seem that there are many suspects in this cowardly act."

    "How about those fellows, Triple H and The Stone?"

    "The Rock, Watson. Although it is obvious that Triple H is a conspirator to the crime, along with two of his then associates, a Road Dogg and X-Pac, they were seen near the car when the crime took place. As for The Rock, it was actually his automobile which was used to perpatrate the crime itself, although he claims the automobile itself was stolen earlier in the day."

    "Sounds like a lie to me, Holmes."

    "Or is it? Because The Rock didn't actually benefit from Mr. Austin's absence from the match. Austin was replaced by rather a large fellow, Paul Wight, who sometimes goes by the name of The Big Show. Mr Wight had recently suffered the loss of his father, and would go on to win the contest, thus becoming the WWF champion in the process."

    "Then it's this Wight fellow then."

    "Hard to say. Although he is definitely a suspect, he has currently fallen on hard times."

    "So where is he now then?"

    "Ohio. But that is beyond the point, Watson."

    "So what other suspects are there, Holmes?"

    "There are a few, but we aren't going to get far in this case here in Baker Street. We must question the suspects in person." Holmes reached into the envelope, and pulled out two tickets.

    "Tickets, Holmes? For the ballet?"

    "No, Watson. They are for something called Raw Is War."

    "A warzone, eh, Holmes? Doesn't sound very pleasant!"

    Holmes grabbed his hat and coat. "Come Watson! Titan Towers awaits us! The game is afoot!"

* * * * *

In the offices of Titan Tower, Monsieur Hercule Poirot had gathered together the suspects of the case. And a rather strange case it had been. Some ten months earlier, before he was due to take part in a wrestling match, Stone Cold Steve Austin had been run down by a mysterious assailant. But who was the assailant? Austin demanded to know who the man was who had tried to end his career, and that is what had brought the legendary Hercule Poirot into the case. Now, with the suspects gathered before him in the plush office of Linda McMahon, the great Belgian detective laid out his case.

    "It is not often that I investigate a case that does not involve a murder of some kind.", he began. "But this case is rather intriguing. Indeed, mes amis, the world of sports entertainment is often more interesting than the most well written fictional crime novel!"


    "But on the contrary!", said Poirot, walking over to the man who had made the outburst. "It is very interesting. The egos of the participants in this sport make it so! Take this case, for instance. Monsieur Austin, due to participate in a wrestling contest, is run over by a mystery assailant, and put, how you Americans say, on the shelf, for nearly a year!"

    "Will you get to the damn point!"

    "The point will be reached soon, Monsieur Helmsley. Let us look at the facts! With Austin injured, he was unable to participate in the contest, thus robbing him of the chance to become WWF champion again. But while we know that you, Monsieur Helmsley, along with your other degenerate friends, are co-conspirators in this case, you are not ultimately responsible for the attack itself! So who would benefit from Austin's injuries?"

    Poirot walked over to the rather large gentleman sitting in the corner. "You, Monsieur Show, had the most to gain on the evening in question. You replaced Austin in the contest, and emerged victorious, becoming WWF champion in the process!"

    Standing up, the Big Show towered above Poirot, looking down on the Belgian, trying to intimidate him. "But your advantage was merely fleeting. Your current situation makes this obvious!"
    The Big Show snorted, before seating himself again.

    "But how about you, Monsieur Rock? The gentleman who always talks about himself in a slightly amusing but ultimately annoying way? It is no secret that you and Austin have had your differences in the past. He has beaten you on a number of occasions. You would also benefit from his absence."


    "How amusing! But there are others who would also benefit. You, Monsieur Angle. At the time of the incident, you were, how they say, the new boy in the neighbourhood. What a way of introducing yourself by attacking and seriously injuring the most well known wrestler in the company?"

    "I had nothing to do with the attack! It's true! It's true!"

    "Then there is you, Monsieur Jericho! At the time, you had not been with the company that long. Like Monsieur Angle, you could make a name for yourself by eliminating Monsieur Austin!"

    "Mon-sewer Parrot! As far as all of my Jerichoholics are concerned, you can take your theory, and stick it where the sun don't shine!"

    "Madame Chyna perhaps? Wanting to help her former love by eliminating his toughest opponent? Or perhaps it is someone who was not known in the company at the time. Monsieur Benoit? Monsieur Regal? Or perhaps Monsieur Raven?"

    "Yeah? So? What about me? What about Raven?"

    "Hmm. Perhaps I am looking in the wrong place. Perhaps I should look at the top of the tree, so to speak! At Monsieur McMahon himself!"

    "Are you crazy? Why would I want to eliminate Austin?"

    "Because, Monsieur McMahon, you altercations with Monsieur Austin are known the world over! Many times have you tried to eliminate him from your company! Many times you have tried to physically maim and injure him!"


    "Hmm, quite. But perhaps Monsieur Rock has a point! I will not be able to find my answers here. There is only one place I will be able to discover who committed this foul crime! At Unforgiven itself!"

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