Sherlock Holmes versus Auguste Dupin

Two of the greatest literary detectives of all time.Sherlock Holmes is one of the most famous detectives of all time. Created by Arthur Conan Doyle, he is what most people consider to be the first modern day detective. Most people, however, are wrong. Holmes himself is based off of Auguste Dupin, who was a creation of that tortured genius Edgar Allan Poe. Dupin is the archetype for the analytical detective. He solves crimes without being personally connected to them in any way and using only the massive powers of his brain. Eventually, Holmes came along and stole that schtick. Also, Holmes developed a really bad morphine habit and was a coke fiend.

Round One:
This fight begins as a Baccarat game between the two great detectives. Seeking to gain a strategic advantage, they each begin picking up on little observations about the other, using those to pick away at each others’ psyches. Holmes starts expounding that he is sure that Dupin has an inferiority complex, what with his being French and all. Plus, no one even remembers him as a great detective or even as a detective who actually solved crimes. If anyone heard anything about him, it’s from the most famous of his adventures, “The Murders in the Rue Morgue,” where Dupin succeeded in busting an ape. (Hey, don’t bitch if I just ruined the ending for you. The story’s been available for over 150 years. Read a book, damn it!) Dupin, unfazed by Holmes’ attempts to rattle him, makes mention of Sherlock’s own problems, namely the fact that he was never as smart as his brother Mycroft, possibly has a homosexual relationship with Doctor Watson, and has a nasty addiction to morphine and cocaine that has probably rendered him impotent. Maybe it’s the part about his superior brother, or the part about his plumbing not working, or the implication that he rocks Watson’s rectum, but something sets Holmes off. The friendly game ends, and the death match begins. Unfortunately, Holmes has it all over Dupin in terms of actual fighting ability, since he has devoted a lot of his time to studying a variety of martial arts in addition to deductive reasoning. Holmes thoroughly trounces Dupin, tossing him around the room like a rag doll. Round One goes to Sherlock Holmes.

Round Two:
Just when things look the worst for Dupin, he uses his brilliant, scheming brain to unleash a quick but effective plan. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulls out a small bag of white powder, and then tosses it across the room. Holmes, realizing that it’s been a while since he’s had his cocaine fix, rushes after it, leaving Dupin battered but not beaten.

Okay, I’ll admit that Holmes was never remotely this bad as a coke addict. However, I like making fun of people’s drug problems. It’s one of my evil qualities, and it’s one of the many reasons that drug clinics are legally obligated to shoot me in the head with a high-powered rifle if I approach within one thousand yards of a rehab center.

While Holmes is distracted, Dupin picks up a fire poker and smacks his foe over the back of the head. Screaming obscenities, he begins beating down Holmes with the large metal rod, and the tide of the battle seems to have turned. Round Two goes to Auguste Dupin.

Round Three:
Holmes tries to fight back, but the ringing in his head only gets louder, largely because it’s being sparked by a poker colliding repeatedly with his skull. Dupin strikes again and again, looking to finish the battle off and prove once and for all how awesome he is. But just before he kills Holmes, his head inexplicably explodes. Unfazed by this turn of events, Holmes dusts himself off and lights up a pipe. Eventually, Watson bursts into the room, drawn by the commotion, and demands to know what in Heaven’s name has been going on. Holmes simply laughs at his partner and explains it quite simply. You see, Auguste Dupin is French, and therefore incapable of winning any sort of combat. When he got close to victory, the universe itself intervened, and the cosmos righted itself.

“That’s ridiculous. French people win battles all the time.”

“No they don’t my dear Watson. All that history about Napoleon is made up.”

“What about Jean Reno?”

Holmes suddenly becomes very concerned at this. “Indeed…what about Jean Reno?”

Ominous music plays. Somewhere in France, Jean Reno starts loading his guns. Round Three and the match go to Sherlock Holmes…for now.


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