We Never Mention Aunt Clara, 2015 edition.

Playing with the old toys is perhaps the very basis of Sherlockiana. Sherlock. John H. 221B. And sometimes bits from other places as well. A particular song written in 1936 has been one of those toys, a little ditty called "We Never Mention Aunt Clara." Its history is a bit winding, but once it was given a merry tie to Irene Adler, it has been in Sherlockian circles for many a decade.

The thing about "Aunt Clara" was that, coming from the 1930s, it was about a rather prudish mother who would not speak of her sister's randy exploits. Things are a little bit different, almost 80 years later. And so, I give your:


"We Never Mention Antclara!"
(Sung to the tune of "We Never Mention Aunt Clara," of course.)

Chorus:

So we never mention "Antclara,"
The nom that mom writes fanfic by.
Though her Sherlock and John live at Tara,
Mother says it is writ by some guy.


Her Sherlock wears curtains and eats turnips raw,
Her John says, "I don't give a damn!"
Her Irene loves Mycroft and blah-blah blah-blah,
Moll Hooper is somehow Big Sam.
The Civil War seems to be all about sex,
As Lincoln set Omegas free.
And so many muscles her Watson can flex,
Both real and imaginary.


Mom works in a cubicle all through the day
With numbers just filling her head
But at night something wicked comes that same way
When she takes her old laptop to bed.
She bangs on her keyboard at quite a pace
Rarely letting out a sigh.
But reading it later is another case
The neighbors have thought she might die.


We hope to see some of that "Fifty Shades" cash
If out of the closet she comes.
Her Betas all tell us she would be a smash
Though they might just beat their own drums.
We'll change "John" and "Sherlock" to "Harry" and "Joe"
To escape the old Doyle estate
And sell it to movies, or perhaps HBO,
Where the nudity's always first-rate.

Final chorus:

So we never mention "Antclara,"

Until the contracts are all signed

Though its Harry and Joe now at Tara

Mother really isn't gonna mind.