(Authoress's Note: Well, it's been a year about since I first started the Swiss Family Robinson slaughtering, and my sister and I figured that, since we mentioned it so much in that and in the Woman in White one, we might as well do Sweeney Todd. Just so y'alls know, I have a great respect for this musical and Stephen Sondheim. He is a god on earth. So, unlike my two previous ones, this is not meant to greatly debase the musical. At all.)

(Some place. There's some machine-y type thing in the background, but no one can really discern what it is. Members of the chorus walk on, carrying something in a canvas corpse bag. It is put in the machine-y type thing.)

Chorus: We're the creepy, the obscure, and most of us are well past the deep end, but we're the narrators and we're just awesome like that.

Select Chorus Members: Crash Course of the play in creepy spasmodic awesome choir fashion and lovely minor key starting…..NOW!

1: Sweeney was like, totally creepy.

2: The barber shop was on FLEET STREET.

3: He was very good at cleaning up.

4: He even creeped out the rats.

5: Yeah….he was really creepy.

Chorus: Now, let us repeat the chorus many times in a lovely minor round to raise suspense to an insane level. (They do so, increasing in volume and pitch until…)

Whistle: TWEEEEEEEEE!

Audience: My eardrums are broken…

Sondheim: Humph. Wimps.

(Sweeney walks out of the machine-y thing.)

Sweeney: HEEEEEEEERE'S SWEENEY! (I do not own anything pertaining to 'The Shining', nor do I own Jack Nicholson.)

Chorus: Now onto stuff that actually pertains to the plot. Don't worry- we'll be back for segues.

(Cut to a dockside. Anthony and Sweeney appear, newly arrived from sailing around the world.)

Anthony: OMFG, IT'S LONDON!

Sweeney: Yes. It is London, Anthony.

Anthony: OMFG, I LIKE TOTALLY LOVE LONDON!

Sweeney: Ha. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Anthony: (wide eyes) What, you don't love London too, Mr. Todd?

Sweeney: Anthony, my poor, terribly simple friend, you are an optimist, and therefore stupid. Now, let me dissolve into a pit of insight as to my former life.

Anthony: OMFG, I LIKE TOTALLY LOVE PITS OF INSIGHT!

Sweeney: (blinks) Anyhoo, there was a barber and his wife. And she was uber pretty. And there were these two guys that really wanted her, but she was a good wife, so she didn't give in. And so the guys -btw, here's a plot point: One of the guys was a judge and the other a beadle- sent the barber to Australia for FIFTEEN FRICKIN' YEARS (twitch) and now the barber has come back and will totally stalk them down and kill them for stealing his wife, even though he doesn't know for sure if they did. The barber will kill them. Kill them good and dead. Heh heh.

Anthony: …So, the barber is supposed to be you…?

Sweeney: It's Sondheim hitting the audience on the head with the Obvious Hammer, noob. Just smile and nod.

Anthony: OKAY!

Beggar Woman: ALMS, ALMS, GIMME ALMS. NEED MONEY FOR MY ARSENIC ADDICTION- I mean, for a better life. Yes.

Anthony: Okay! (He gives her a few coins.)

Beggar Woman: (Raises eyebrows suggestively. Looks Anthony up and down.)

Anthony: (So does not get what she's doing.)

Beggar Woman: INNNUENDOOOOOOO.

Anthony: (Blinks.) Pardon?

Beggar Woman: Whatevs. (Sees Sweeney. Raises eyebrows suggestively.) HEY MICKEY, YOU SO FINE, YOU SO FINE YOU BLOW MY MIND HEY MICKEY! (A/N: I do not own that song in any way shape or form.) (Blinks) (Stares) Hey! I totally know you!

Sweeney: No, you do not. And VETO. SO, SO, SO, SO, SO VETO.

Beggar Woman: Whatevs. ALMS ALMS NEED ARSENIC MONEY FLIBBERTS IN THE MEAT PIES! (Wanders off.)

Anthony: Dude, she's just a crazy woman. No need to flip out, homie.

Sweeney: Oh you poor, misguided fool. I'm ditching you now.

Anthony: OMFG, YOU ARE LIKE TOTALLY MY HOMIE. I'M LIKE TOTALLY COMING WITH YOU!

Sweeney: … Veto.

Anthony: Whatevs. See ya. (Goes off following something shiny he saw.)

Sweeney: God, I hate humanity.

(Cut to Mrs. Lovett's meat shop. Sweeney enters tentatively.)

Mrs. Lovett: OMFG, IT'S PATTI LUPONE! BACK, DEMON, BACK! IT'S MY ROLE NOW!

Sweeney: ………

Mrs. Lovett: Oh, it's just a creepy, vaguely familiar-looking gentleman. Sorry about that, guv'nor. It's just that when she's played your character you gets a little jumpy.

Sweeney: Understandable.

Mrs. Lovett: So, are you going to buy one of the pies? A fine-looking gentleman like yourself?

Sweeney: (Looks at the pies. Automatically regrets it.) Actually I was just leav-

Mrs. Lovett: It's just hard, y'know, because I haven't had a customer in weeks and times is real hard, sir. You will have a pie, right?

Sweeney: … … … Do I have a choice?

Mrs. Lovett: No. Here. Pie. Eat now.

Sweeney: (Eats the pie. Dies.)

Mrs. Lovett: Oh dear. It's just that times is so hard nowadays and I don't have any money and meat is so expensive. Mrs. Mooney's pies sell really well, but you know, that's probably because all her neighbor's cats have disappeared, nudge nudge wink wink.

Sweeney: (Eyes the pie he just ate. Dies some more.)

Mrs. Lovett: No, no, I personally find lard a lot better than cat meat. Easier to catch, too.

Sweeney: That's not exactly comforting. Anyhoo, if 'times is so hard', why don't you just rent out the rooms on top of the store? Btw, I so totally did not use to live there with my wife Lucy. So I totally have absolutely no connection to the rooms whatsoever. Yes. (Shifty eyes)

Mrs. Lovett: Well, I can't rent out the rooms 'cause everyone thinks they're haunted.

Sweeney: By the vengeful soul of a barber whose wife was raped and who will now track down those did it until the end of time?

Mrs. Lovett: … … …

Sweeney: (shifty eyes) It was an educated guess. Do tell the story.

Mrs. Lovett: O…K… So, there was this barber and his wife. And OMFG HE WAS SO FRICKIN' HOT. (coughs). I mean, vaguely attractive. Anyhoo, he got deported to Australia. His name was Barker. Benjamin Barker.

Sweeney: Why was he deported?

Mrs. Lovett: Oh, the usual. Had a hot wife and some old guy with a lot of money and power wanted her. So this Judge Turpin (PLOT POINT) deported Barker, leaving the woman with nothing but grief and a year old girl. Named… (Ominous pause)…Johanna.

Sweeney: But what happened after he was deported?

Mrs. Lovett: Turpin called on the wife saying how he felt just awful 'bout all the mess- invited her to a ball at his house. So she goes there, and of course she doesn't know anyone there, so, of course, she drinks a lot. (Mutters) Was the sort that would drink… (Phony smile) Anyway, she goes around askin' after Judge Turpin, and he comes out and rapes her, right there in front of everyone.

Sweeney: (twitches violently)

Mrs. Lovett: They all thought she was stupid, of course, they just stood there and laughed and then she came back here, where she and her family lived, and drank arsenic –

Sweeney: (Runs screaming out of the building, does a couple of laps around the city screaming all the way and calmly walks back to the shop.) (Coughs)

Mrs. Lovett: Benjamin Barker?

Sweeney: Sweeney. Sweeney Todd. What happened to my Lucy?

Mrs. Lovett: (Shifty eyes.) Like I said. Drank arsenic.

Chorus: PLOT POINT.

Sweeney: So…she's dead?

Mrs. Lovett: Mumph.

Sweeney: OH MY GOD HOW CAN LIFE GO ON? Now. Would you be a dear and tell me where this Judge Turpin lives so I may stalk him down and kill him?

Mrs. Lovett: … … … Maybe that wouldn't be the best form of action.

Sweeney: Do you have any alternatives?

Mrs. Lovett:… … …

Sweeney: Thought so. Ta! (starts to leave)

Mrs. Lovett: DON'T GO I LUUURVE YOU! (Coughs) I mean, please, do stay. Look! I still have your razors! (Brings forth a box of uber shiny silver razors) See? See the pretty shiny?

Sweeney: Shiny.

Mrs. Lovett: Yes, Mr. Todd.

Sweeney: Me like shiny.

Mrs. Lovett: Uh…

Sweeney: My friends…I luuuurve you…

Mrs. Lovett: Mr. Todd…

Sweeney: Don't worry, my friends. Soon you'll drip rubies. Precious rubies…

Mrs. Lovett: God, you're so hot when you're creepy. (Coughs) I mean, you can stay here. Open up your barber shop again. Start a mass killing spree on every single man who walks into your barber shop. Eventually fall in love with me. Join the cast of 'The Woman in White'. Anything you want.

Sweeney: My pretties…

Chorus: And that's how the obsessive compulsive revenge started. Now. SEGUE!

(Cut to Johanna, Sweeney and Lucy's daughter, raised as Judge Turpin's ward, watching the pretty birds being sold under her window.)

Johanna: Gosh, being the ward of a rich creepy guy really isn't all it's cracked up to be. But I'm a beautiful, young, blonde soprano, so nothing can go wrong for me in this musical, right?

Chorus: (shuffles feet awkwardly.)

Johanna: I am like the birds there. Why do you sing, birdies? Are you happy/sad/emo/depressed/suicidal/insane/high?

Birdies: Twirp?

Johanna: Gosh, I hate being me. ANGST ANGST ANGST. (Bangs head against wall in manner of Leroux!Christine)

Anthony: (strolls past. Does a double take on Johanna.) OMFG, I LIKE TOTALLY LOVE YOU! Wow. Her hair is like…yellow…wow.

Johanna: (So does not notice Anthony.)

Anthony: HELLOOOOO? PRETTY BLONDE SOPRANO?

Johanna: (Catches reflection in mirror) WHO'S THE PRETTY ONE! I'M THE PRETTY ONE! WHO'S PRETTIER THAN MARIAN? I'M PRETTIER THAN MARIAN! (See Woman in White Summary for the original of this)

Anthony: HELLLLOOOOOO!

Johanna: (Looks down. Sees Anthony.) Heh heh. Cutie sailor guy.

Anthony: Omfg she's like totally looking at me! (Buys a birdie) This is for you.

Johanna: Gosh, if it weren't for the two stories, windowsill, obsessive compulsive guardian, moat with alligators, ring of flame, and various atomic landmines between us, I would so totally make out with you.

Anthony: Heh heh…heh heh…

Judge Turpin and Beadle Bamford: (Happen to walk by at the worst possible moment.)

Turpin: (in a bad Italian-Mafia accent) Youse-a lookin' at my ward, punk?

Beadle: Yeah?

Turpin: 'Cause if youse are, it might be-a just the last thing youse do, capische?

Beadle: Yeah. (Takes the bird Anthony bought and breaks its neck.) Don' make us do the same-a to youse. (They go in the house.)

Beggar Woman: (Happens to pass by.) (Sees Anthony.) Heeeeey, it's the hot sailor who gave me money before!

Anthony: Who was that beautiful girl with an overprotective perverted guardian?

Beggar Woman: BAAAAAAAAA.

Anthony: … Wtf?

Beggar Woman: Don't mind that, t'was just me old sane mind screaming out a plot point.

Sondheim's Obvious Hammer: Whoops, a little late on that. PLOT POINT WITH THE BEGGAR WOMAN, AISLE TWO!

Beggar Woman: Anyhoo, that's Johanna, Turpin's ward. But be careful- tamper there, and it's a good whippin' for ye. (Looks Anthony up and down.) HEY MICKEY, YOU SO FINE- (A/N: I still do not own that song.)

Anthony: No. Just no.

Beggar Woman: Boo. But seriously, you go near that girl and Judge Turpin will nail your head to his Wall o' Heads of Guys-Who-Looked-At-My-Johanna.

Anthony: Crap.

Beggar Woman: Ta. (Scampers off shouting about flibberts in the meat pies.)

Anthony: Okay. This calls for intelligence, savoir-faire, craft, wisdom, and a lot of money. None of which I have. Oh well. JOHANNA I'M LIKE TOTALLY GOING TO STEAL YOU! And then we'll be together. Me and you and your yellow hair. Do they think that walls can hide you? Well, Judge Turpin's walls, fences, moats, alligators, ring of fire, atomic landmines are no match for Anthony the Hot Sailor! (Strikes a heroic pose, more than slightly reminiscent of a Ken doll. Or GI Joe.)

(Cut to a street somewhere in London. Toby is having fun being a sleazy businessman.)

Toby: YO! NEW CHARACTER TO SHOWER LOVE UPON!

Audience: AWWWW. A little Cockney boy is selling stuff and singing! We love him so! Nothing bad could possibly happen to him, right?

Chorus: (Shuffles feet awkwardly)

Toby: You should totally buy this hair stuff. I went bald from some disease-y thing, used this and now I have Hot Guy Hair. All thanks to Pirelli, Barber God Extraordinaire.

Girls in the Audience: (swoon – despite the fact that Toby is about thirteen)

Toby: Pirelli's Elixir is totally amazing. Soon, you too can look this attractive. Give me money. Now.

Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett: (happen by)

Sweeney: Dude. Something totally smells like piss.

Mrs. Lovett: God, I mean, I know we're in the slums of 19th century London, but this is just…ew.

Toby: PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE DOUBTING MAN AND WOMAN OVER THERE. Give me money. Now. You wouldn't want poor Toby t'be beaten, would you?

Chorus: Dude, this is totally just piss with ink.

Toby: LIES, LIES, SHAMELESS LIES-

Chorus: Dude, we just gave you all our money for piss with ink.

Toby: LIES, LIES-

Chorus: Dude, we're like totally going to go Puritan Witch Hunt on your sorry butt. (A/N: I do not own any Puritan Witch Hunts and have only chased a suspected witch down a street with a torch and pitchfork six times.)

Toby: Crap.

Pirelli: (Enters majestically) Is-a der someone who say my-a elixir is-a piss?

Chorus: (shuffles awkwardly) No, no, we're good Londoners- wouldn't dream of doubting a guy with a fake Italian accent.

Sweeney: Dude, this is piss. Duh.

Pirelli: OH NO YOU DIDN'T! Barber-Off – right here, right now.

Sweeney: BRING IT, FOOL!

Pirelli: If you-a win, I admit I'm a fraud and I'll give-a you five pounds from this pretty purse.

Sondheim's Obvious Hammer: PLOT POINT ON THE PURSE, AISLE FIVE.

Pirelli: But, if-a I win, I get-a your pretty shiny razors.

Chorus: (stunned inhale of breath)

Sweeney: (is shocked) Not- not my friends. They're the only ones who truly understand me.

Pirelli: Dude, if-a your razors are-a you closest friends, what does that say about-a you?

Sweeney: SHUT UP. I HAVE LOTS OF FRIENDS. Beadle Bamford, one of our lovely plot-points, would you be our judge?

Beadle: Sure. Hokay. Shave-Off is the first event. Ready……GO!

Sweeney: (Aside) Aha. My diabolical scheme comes into action. MUAHHAHAHAHAHA!

Pirelli: Dude, I am-a soo coolio. You-a love-a me soo much. I shave-a da Pope. Si. I just cool like dat. Now, I shall go on a lovely song about being-a such-a awesome barber. (He does so – with many manly-high notes.)

Sweeney: (shaves his person in about three seconds, and perfectly so)

Beadle: Todd wins. Next event: Tooth-Pulling-Off.

Guy in Chorus: I WANT A TOOTH PULLED! PICK ME, PICK ME!

Sweeney: Hokay, if you really want it. Anyone else?

Chorus: (Silence)

Crickets: (Chirp)

Sweeney: Okay, guess that means I win.

Pirelli: Toby. Don't-a you think one of your-a teeth hurts?

Toby: Act'ally, guv'nor, me teeth are just peachy. I mean, even as a kid raised in the slums of industrialized London, I've always managed to make time for dental 'ygiene-

Pirelli: Dude. Just get in the frickin' chair before I kill you dead and drop your body in the Thames with some cement shoes.

Toby: (Shuts up. Sits in chair.)

Pirelli: Hokay, you must-a be very careful when-a pulling da teeth.

Toby: Ow…

Pirelli: I mean, one-a slip with the grip and-a you chip off the tip of-a it, or you pull-a vein or something, I dunno, I never really studied all that junk. But-a seriously: you can-a like totally kill-a someone with the tooth-a pulling-

Toby: Mr. Pirelli, sir, that really hurts-

Pirelli: But I, I pull-a da teeth very well-a-

Toby: OH MY GOD, JUST KILL ME ALREADY, GOD THIS IS HELL OH MY GOD-

Pirelli: Boy. Remember what I said about the killing you dead. You keep screaming and you'll think what you're feeling now is heaven.

Toby: (blacks out)

Crowd: (horrified silence)

Pirelli: Ah, children with sudden blood loss tell the ugliest lies.

Crowd: (is appeased) Awww.

Sweeney: (Pulls his guy's tooth in ten seconds with no pain whatsoever.) AW. WHO DA SUCKER NOW, ITALIAN PUNK?

Pirelli: Dude. You have-a so totally just showed up da wrong-a Italian barber. (Makes sweeping exit.)

Londoners: OMFG, SWEENEY'S LIKE A TOTALLY AWESOME BARBER! Everyone shower him with love and affection!

Sweeney: Ah, showers of love and affection.

Mrs. Lovett: The shop's right above my pie shop.

Londoners: (run screaming through the city.)

Mrs. Lovett: No one loves me.

Beadle: Wow, Mr. Todd. That was some really awesome Barber-Off-ing.

Sweeney: (manly smile) Well, it's what I do.

Beadle: Expect me at your shop this week.

Sweeney: AHA! YOU HAVE FALLEN FOR MY TRAP! MUAHHAHAHAHA- (Mrs. Lovett wraps his mouth shut with duct tape.) umf.

Mrs. Lovett: So you'll come this week?

Beadle: Definitely. Hey- you look vaguely like the husband of that hot chick me and Turpin wanted to nail about seventeen years ago.

Sweeney: … … …

Mrs. Lovett: … … …

Chorus: … … … (awkward shuffle)

Mrs. Lovett: Well, it's…not…him. Must be…some other…revenge obsessed barber…?

Beadle: Well, I assumed that-

Mrs. Lovett: He's…my...uncle's…cousin…five times removed…from Soviet Russia…(A/N: I do not own Soviet Russia, nor the USSR.)

Sweeney: (In sudden very bad Russian accent.) But even in de Soviet Russia, ve hear de stories of de Beadle Bamford und his vonderful good vill.

Beadle: Aw sucks.

Sweeney: And when you come to my tonsorial parlor-

Chorus: IN FLEET STREET.

Sweeney: -I shall be certain to give you the closest shave ever. [Aside Yes. So close you'll be DEAD. Muahahahahahahaha!

Chorus: And that's enough of that. SEGUE!

(Cut to Judge Turpin stalking Johanna in a manner normally reserved for unregistered sex offenders.)

Turpin: Whoa. How did I not notice for seventeen years that the daughter of that lady I raped and her creepy revenge obsessed barber husband was frickin hot?

Johanna: (Sooo does not notice her adoptive father watching her through the keyhole.)

Turpin: NO NO LUST BAD AM GOOD CHRISTIAN- God, she really is hot. Hokay. I'll just marry her. That'll work out great.

(In Johanna's Room.)

Johanna: Hum. Foster Daddy's been acting weirdly lately. Normally hot sailors buying me birds only mean I'm locked inside for a few hours, but this three week thing is a bit obsessive, even for Foster Daddy.

Turpin: (Enters abruptly.) We're getting married.

Johanna: (Blinks) …Wtf?

Turpin: We shall be married on Monday. Because...um…the world is an evil place and you must be protected from it.

Johanna: Foster Daddy, don't you think it is INSANELY AWKWARD AND JUST NOT AT ALL RIGHT for you to marry the girl you have raised as your daughter?

Turpin: (Thinks.) …No. Hey- it works out fine in The Count of Monte Cristo! (Exits.)

(Cut to the meat pie and barber shop.)

Beggar Woman: HEEEEEEY Nice Bad-Pie-Making Lady, would'ye like to give me money for me arsenic addiction?

Mrs. Lovett: (Pause.) I will kill you in your sleep if you come here again. How many times do I have to say that?

Beggar Woman: Lots. Me memory ain't been so good since I swallowed the arsenic. (Pause) Oh, shiny… (Wanders off.)

Mrs. Lovett: God…Oh well. HOT BARBER STALKING TIME! (She goes upstairs to visit Sweeney.)

Sweeney: What are you doing here? I'm having a deep talk with my razors. See, this one just broke up with that one, and it's causing so much emotional scarring on their kid-

Mrs. Lovett: Strangely enough, I did not come up here to hear the traumas of your razors.

Sweeney: Look, Mrs. Lovett, you are my friend and they are my friends. You're going to have to live together.

Mrs. Lovett: Whatevs. Anyhoo, this tonsorial parlor barber shop-

Chorus: IN FLEET STREET.

Mrs. Lovett: -thing that you have going on looks a lot more like a prison.

Sweeney: Where do you think I was for the past fifteen years? Prison atmosphere soothes me.

Mrs. Lovett: Come on. Some new paint, a bowl of flowers, and this place could look like it had a makeover from one of those really bad TLC remodeling shows! (I own neither TLC channel, nor a really bad remodeling show on TLC.)

Sweeney: Veto. And where's Beadle Bamford? I want to kill him!

Mrs. Lovett: God, you are frickin' obsessed.

Sweeney: Am not!

Mrs. Lovett: If you dedicated all your energy, time and money into killing two people, then you are obsessed.

(Anthony bursts in.)

Anthony: OMFG, MR. TODD! I'VE LIKE TOTALLY FOUND YOU!

Sweeney: Oh God, just kill me now…

Anthony: OMFG, I HAVE, LIKE, SO MUCH TO TELL YOU! So yesterday I'm just, like, y'know, like, walking through, like, London, and like, I like totally saw this like really pretty girl with, like, yellow hair, and like, her foster dad's like uber protective, but I like totally know she likes me 'cause like she like totally dropped a key to the house from, like, her window to where she knew I would, like, find it.

Mrs. Lovett: Where she knew you would, like, find it?

Anthony: Well, it's hard to not miss me- I've been like watching her through her window twenty four seven for like the past three months.

Mrs. Lovett: …Ah…

Anthony: Anyhoo, I'm like totally like going to steal her. We're like totally going to move to Plymouth and it's like going to be hella chill and we're like gonna have like an ice cream machine and like a space ship and like a mini golf course and it's going be awesome. Can I keep her here while I get a coach to take us there?

Mrs. Lovett: Yes. You can. Now go. I think I saw something shiny down the road.

Anthony: OMFG I LIKE TOTALLY LOVE SHINY THINGS! (He runs off.)

Sweeney: He is taking MY DAUGHTER to live on the OTHER FRICKIN SIDE OF ENGLAND?

Mrs. Lovett: Well, worse comes to worst, you can just kill him and we'll live here with Johanna and be a happy little family. I've always wanted a daughter.

Sweeney: Sweet.

(Pirelli and Toby enter.)

Pirelli: Yo. You-a die now, Barber Punk.

Mrs. Lovett: Um…me and Toby'll just get out of your way. (She looks at Toby.) Whoa. Even by the standards of 19th century London, this is a lot of child abuse on one kid. Come. You can eat some of my pies.

Toby: Actually, mum, I'd rather jus' die bein' starved and beaten by Signor Pirelli, mum.

Mrs. Lovett: Too bad. (They exit.)

Mr. Todd: Look, Signor Pirelli-

Pirelli: (Now Irish) Actually, it's just Danny O'Higgins when I'm not tryin' a-sell stuff, Benjamin Barker.

Sweeney: Um…

Pirelli: Yeah, about that… Remember that little Irish boy you hired right before you got taken to Australia? That was me. I recognized you by these razors. So now it's half of yer profits or I go have a talk with me homie Beadle Bamford. Ja. I'm jes cool like dat. Oooh, pretty razors. (He picks up one of the razors.)

Sweeney: OH, HELL NO, IRISH PUNK. AND YOU TAKE YO' HANDS OFF MY HOMIES! (He slits Pirelli's throat with the razor.)

(Meanwhile in the meat pie shop…)

Toby: GAWD! Pirelli's got a tailor appointment and it'll be my 'ead if 'e's late! (He runs back to the parlor. Sweeney has stuffed Pirelli in a trunk.)

Sweeney: Pirelli's not here. He left suddenly. For Soviet Russia. Go back to the pie shop.

Toby: Mr. Todd, you wouldn't 'aves mistakenly kilt Signor Pirelli, would'ye?

Sweeney: (awkward pause.) NO. Now go back downstairs and tell Mrs. Lovett to give you a good many glasses of gin and anything she can think of to make you forget you ever talked to me.

Toby: OKAY! (He skips downstairs.)

Chorus: AND…SEGUE TO ANTHONY AND JOHANNA!

Johanna: OMFG, HE'S LIKE TOTALLY GOING TO MARRY ME AND WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM-

Anthony: I have a plan-

Johanna: SHUT UP, ANTHONY-KINS, ANYHOO IF HE DOES MARRY ME I'M TOTALLY JUST GONNA KILL MYSELF-

Anthony: Kiss me!

(Pause.)

Johanna: …

Anthony: Anyhoo, I like totally have a plan. Sunday I'll like totally steal you and we'll go to France, or Spain, or Italy or the moon and eat ice cream and play mini-golf and it'll be like totally awesome!

Johanna: OKAY, ANTHONY-KINS!

(Cut to Beadle Bamford and Judge Turpin walking.)

Turpin: So, turns out, Johanna's really frickin' hot. So I'm gonna marry her on Monday.

Beadle: (pause) And you don't feel there's anything wrong with a seventy year old man marrying the sixteen year old girl he's raised as his daughter?

Turpin: Of course there's nothing wrong with that. But you know what, when I told her this, she freaked out. Started screaming stuff about pedophiles, creepiness and everything... Then she kept turning on the gas and closing all windows and doors, so I just locked her in her room for another few months.

Beadle: Did you think she'd maybe have reason on the being freaked out by this?

Turpin: …No. What are you implying?

Beadle: Well…It's just that…you see…you're kind of really, really ol-

Turpin: Go on. (Picks up Anne's bazooka which Walter left after a good talk with Sweeney.) (See 'A Horrid Summery' for more of Anne's bazooka)

Beadle: (thinks) Well, you see, girls, they place a lot on a man's…looks.

Turpin: Yeah. I'm supposed to take girl advice from you? You sing almost as high as Johanna-Pookie-Pie, and she's the blonde soprano in this musical.

Beadle: Shut up. Anyway, when courting a girl a good number of decades/centuries younger than you, personal appearance is an issue.

Turpin: Youse a-sayin' I'm ugly, punk?

Beadle: …No…Just that…well, for instance…um…

Turpin: Yes?

Beadle: You shave badly.

Turpin: …Wtf?

Beadle: Yes! Shaving is very important to young ladies nowadays. They won't care if your several centuries older than them, most likely a pedophile, raped their mother and sent their father to Australia as long as you shave well.

Turpin: Wow! Brilliant, Beadle Bamford! How do I get past my shaving badly?

Beadle: Well, there's this new barber. He's uber kewl. I'll take you to him.

Turpin: Wow! That's convenient as I was just about to go into my house and see if that annoying sailor was still stalking Johanna. Oh well.

(Meanwhile, inside…)

Anthony: KISS ME, JOHANNA-POOKIE-PIE!

Johanna: OKAY, ANTHONY-KINS!

(Cut to the meat pie/barber shop.)

Mrs. Lovett: So…Pirelli is actually some Irish kid…and he knew about you being Benjamin Barker…and he was going to blackmail…and he touched one of your razors…so you-

Sweeney: Strangled him dead, slit his throat with my razors, and tossed him in the trunk.

Mrs. Lovett: …Right…

(Outside the window, Judge Turpin walks up to have a good shave.)

Sweeney: OMFG, IT'S THAT DUDE I WANNA KILL! (He tosses Mrs. Lovett out the window as Turpin enters the shop.)

Sweeney: (coughs) Ahem. Hello.

Turpin: I need a shave because my sixteen year old ward that I'm going to marry on Monday thinks I'm ugly.

Sweeney: …

Turpin: Chop chop, barber!

Sweeney: Yes…chop… (He takes out his razors.) OMFG, GUYS, THIS IS SO FRICKIN' AWESOME! I so am MySpace-ing about this later. (I do not own anything pertaining to MySpace, not even an account.)

Turpin: Dude. Make with the shave, baby, no gas.

Sweeney: You know what's cool? Pretty women.

Turpin: Yeah. They're hellsa cool.

Sweeney: Yeah. Anyhoo… (He is about to cut Turpin's throat when Anthony bursts in.)

Anthony: OMFG, MR. TODD, JOHANNA-POOKIE-PIE'S LIKE TOTALLY GONNA MARRY ME- (He sees Judge Turpin.) Oh crap.

Turpin: YOU DIE! YOU DIE NOW! That's it. Johanna-Snookum's going away. For a long time.

Anthony: Hey. That's, like, totally un-cool, man.

Turpin: And you! Barber! I am soo never coming here again! (He storms out.)

(Awkward moment.)

Anthony: Look, Mr. Todd, I'm like, really, like sorry about you loosing a really high paying client-

Sweeney: Anthony. Go before I am forced to kill you and dump you in the trunk along with Pirelli.

Anthony: (edges out of the shop quietly.)

Mrs. Lovett: (Enters) I heard loud death threats. Everything all right in here?

Sweeney: He's gone. He's never coming back.

Mrs. Lovett: Oh.

Sweeney: WE ALL DESERVE TO DIE. And now I'll never get to see Johanna-Pookie-Pie again and my Lucy-Snookum's dead-

Mrs. Lovett: MUMPH.

Sweeney: -And God, life is crappy right now. Okay. I'll just start my killing spree now.

(Pause.)

Mrs. Lovett: O…k…So. What are we going to do about Pirelli?

Sweeney: Eh. Mail the body parts separately to his relatives. Put in the bed of someone we don't life. Keep it in the parlor as a conversation piece.

Mrs. Lovett: Um…actually, how about we take the meat of the bones and use it to make pies?

Sweeney: (thinks.) Okay.

Mrs. Lovett: Sweet.

Chorus: ACT BREAK!!!!!!!!!!