In a curious little nook of the world, where the sunbeams danced and the shadows played, a question flitted through the air like a butterfly: “Is that a paper plane? Is that a pencil? Is it an eraser, perhaps?” But lo! A voice rang out, clear and bright, “Nay, my friends. That’s Elementary Man!”

In a sporty little town across the hill, where the sun shone like a polished sword and the air was thick with the scent of ambition, there lived a fencer named Finn. Finn was a prodigy, a master of the blade, yet his career was as stagnant as a puddle in a drought. The townsfolk whispered, “Why isn’t he winning? Why isn’t he soaring?”

Enter our detective Elementary Man, whose mind was sharpened by solving one mystery at a time. One fine day, as the town celebrated International Mentoring Month—a time to honor guidance and fair play—he was approached by two concerned souls: the fencer’s dietician, Delilah, and his physio, Percy.

“Elementary Man!” Delilah exclaimed, her voice a flurry of worry. “Finn is floundering! His techniques are all askew, and his confidence is crumbling like a stale biscuit!”

Percy chimed in, “Aye! The lad’s been acting like a lost lamb, and I fear it’s not just the training. There’s something amiss!”

Elementary Man adjusted his hat, which seemed to tilt in agreement. “Fear not, my friends! I shall unravel this riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma! To the fencing hall!”

Upon arrival, they found Finn practicing, his movements as graceful as a swan on a lake, yet his face bore the weight of a thousand doubts. His trainer, a rotund fellow named Barnaby, stood nearby, arms crossed, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Finn, dear boy,” Barnaby cooed, “you mustn’t fret! Just remember, the pointy end goes towards the other chap! Isn’t that right?” He chuckled, a sound like a cat caught in a blender.

Finn frowned, “But Barnaby, I feel like my footwork is off! I need to—”

“Shh! No need to overthink it, my little fencer!” Barnaby interrupted, patting Finn on the head as if he were a wayward puppy. “Just trust the process!”

Elementary Man raised an eyebrow, his detective senses tingling. “Interesting, very interesting,” he muttered, scribbling notes on a napkin he had pilfered from a nearby café.

Later, in a cozy corner of the fencing hall, Elementary Man gathered Delilah and Percy. “I suspect foul play, my dear Watsons! This infantilizing behavior is a ruse! But who would benefit from such tomfoolery?”

Delilah gasped, “You think someone is sabotaging Finn?”

“Indeed! And I have a hunch it’s linked to the opposing camp! They must have bribed Barnaby to keep Finn from reaching his potential!” Elementary Man declared, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the chase.

Just then, Barnaby waddled over, a suspicious glint in his eye. “What’s all this chatter about? You lot are making my little fencer nervous!”

Elementary Man grinned, “Ah, Barnaby! Tell me, how do you feel about the concept of ‘fair play’ during International Mentoring Month?”

Barnaby’s face turned a shade of crimson. “Fair play? Pfft! It’s all about winning, isn’t it? A little nudge here and there never hurt anyone!”

Elementary Man’s grin widened. “Aha! The plot thickens like a good stew! You’ve been bribed, haven’t you? To keep Finn in the dark while the other camp shines!”

Barnaby stammered, “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Percy chimed in, “Oh, come now! We’ve seen the way you treat Finn! It’s as if you think he’s a child playing dress-up!”

Elementary Man leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “And that, my friends, is the crux of the matter! By infantilizing Finn, you’ve sown seeds of doubt in his mind, making him question his own skills!”

With a flourish, Elementary Man produced a crumpled envelope from his coat pocket. “And here’s the evidence! A bribe from the opposing camp, promising you riches if you keep Finn from winning!”

Barnaby’s face fell, and he stammered, “I—I was just trying to help him! I thought—”

“Thought what?” Elementary Man interrupted, “That keeping him in the dark would somehow make him a champion? Nay, my rotund friend, that’s not how it works!”

As the truth unraveled, Finn stood tall, his confidence rekindled like a flame in the night. “I can’t believe it! All this time, I thought I was the problem!”

Soon, it was time for our beloved detective to leave. Delilah and Percy were sad to see him go, as he had been such a great help.

“That was so great, man!” Delilah affirmed.

Elementary Man chuckled, “Nay my friend, That’s Elementary Man!”

Moral: Infantilizing is not the way to mentor someone. A little encouragement to do better goes a long way.