The Partners of the Atom, two scandalous spreadsheets, went leaping toward the future, and what they reclaimed in numbers they more than made up for in energized experience. Their days were numbered, and their dolls were shit. The vapours of the ferris wheel bla bla bla....
A knock at the door.
Sherlock turns his head to see what will happen. The diamond ivory snake, its him at last, the dimples in his childlike face so watery, he is here with a Krys-knife to bloody Holmes. Holmes leaps straight up and flies in an L shape all around the room, landing on the chandelier like a disgusting fly, with penile face form.
An abandoning of basic pretense for most futile nonsense is what we see here in Holmes' dorm room. A study of the moon with its bloody mood. a chart that he pulls out with basic stories written on them. The first story is stored flat and it goes something like this:
"The Partners of the atom were two rotten shitty dukes with their faces rotted off who haunted the edge of the parking lot, clutching muddy homework pages in their hands. They had come to community college to improve themselves, but they would not find their first class. Now time was passing, as noted by the folksinger student sitting on the grass on the top of the hill."