The case of the shaggy tartan

"Confound it, confound it, a thousand times confound it."

"Holmes," Watson said, as he considered the marmalade or blueberry jam as a topping for his slightly burnt breakfast toast. "What is the problem?"

"I face an unsolvable case for the first time in my career. Not since A Study in Scarlet have I had such a confounded feeling of despair."

"Come now, Holmes, surely you exaggerate."

"That I would, Watson. That I would. It's the case of the missing country."

Holmes could tell by Watson's devotion to the marmalade that his attention did not fall into the category that could be described as rapt.

"Look Watson, pay attention, what do we call ourselves. The Rest of UK, Defiant UK"

"DUK, heavens no!"

"Ahhh, now you see my point. If Scotland goes, well, you know…"

"No need to mention that dreadful word."

"Indeed, but if it goes, well, you know, then we are left in a cruel situation. We have no name, at least not yet."

"Hold on, dear chap, surely we can think of something?"