Who deserves to live, and who should die?
New Year’s Eve 1999. Anything is possible. Nothing is forbidden.
Gluttony. Greed. Sloth. Lust. Pride. Envy. Wrath.
Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who is the murderer among them all?
Sherlock Holmes: “You’ve a magnificent brain, Moriarty. I admire it; I admire it so much I’d like to present it pickled in alcohol to the London Medical Society.” Professor Moriarty: “It would make an impressive exhibit.”
“Who knoweth if to die be but to live…and that called life by mortals be but death?”
Even a great detective must recharge the “little gray cells.”
“The Fans Voted And The Results Are In!”
We say goodbye to the “Troubled” town of Haven.
This town needs an enema.
Scientists in remote snowy locations doing science-y stuff always ends badly.
No child left behind.
Colonel Mustard, in the study, with…Nikola Tesla?
Ladies! If the husband wants to move to a house in a remote location, make sure he has no ulterior motives.
Hinterland [ hínt’r lànd ] — a remote country region that lies next to a coastline or a river.
I need to ask you about Claire.
Why bother with Whitechapel when you could live in nearby Plaidchapel?
“I get a lovely view from the moral high ground.”
Haven’s Tourist Brochure: Come for the first rate seafood, stay for a lethal blow to the back of the head.
I can’t wait to show you my Nikki Heat/Derrick Storm fan fiction.
New Holmes. New Watson. New York.
It’s supposed to be 1977, and I didn’t see one pair of bell bottom pants? What a rip off.
Slash ’em Nordic Style!
“Is it him, sir? Has he returned?”