What happens if you send Sweeney Todd to a computer class
Sweeney Todd sat in a computer class, trying to remember why in the name of his razors he was here in the first place. Oh yes, in this day and age, the world, which also happened to be a great black pit that was filled with shit, was practically one giant computer itself these days. And if one didn't know how to use a computer, one may as well slit one's throat on the spot, the amount of good it would do one. Mrs. Lovett had a natural flair for the damn things, God only knew why, but evidently skill with a razor did not translate to skill with computers.
The teacher babbled on in the background, unaware that one of the students was a serial killer, fingering his razors, debating whether or not to kill the teacher and have done with it. It would shut him up, certainly, but on the other hand, it would be rather noticeable if the teacher suddenly dropped dead with Sweeney holding a razor at his throat….
There was a circle button with a line through it that the teacher was droning on about, so Sweeney pressed it. The computer (it was a laptop, one of those tiny ones… maybe a netbook) dinged to life, flashing its welcome screen. It bleeped happily to itself, and already Sweeney was debating whether or not to flounce out of the classroom right then and there. He wished he could kill the damn thing, but laptops didn't have throats to slit.
The teacher explained about the finger pad, which was used like a mouse. Mouse? There were plenty of those in Mrs. Lovett's shop, and mice weren't used on computers. Not a mouse in sight. The teacher then clarified, stating the mouse was the little doodad used to move the blinking arrow around the screen, so one could click on the various icons, prompting various functions. That made slightly more sense to Sweeney, though why they were called mouses or mice was something he could not get his head around.
The teacher began explaining about some goddamn thing called Microsoft Word, which was used like a typewriter, but words could be deleted without leaving a mark, plus you could insert images and WordArt, whatever that was. This made sense to Sweeney… ish. What in the world was wrong with typewriters? Still, typewriters were awfully old-fashioned, everyone used blasted computers now.
The teacher moved on to another subject, this one about something extraordinarily strange called the Internet, or Net for short, which made about as much sense as mouses to Sweeney, who saw no sign of any net. The teacher elaborated, saying the Net was a function by which people could do countless pastimes, listing the strangest things, like email, 'surf' the Net, play online games (should he kill the teacher?), or even roleplay, or RP for short. Sweeney supposed roleplaying was like doing a giant play online, with people taking different parts, but making up their own stories for the characters which had already been invented, if they didn't make them (the characters) up for themselves. He explained about wolf RPs, vampire RPs, fan RPs. Awfully strange things, these RPs. Why would anyone pretend to be a wolf or vampire, or someone they were a fan of? It just didn't add up. Sweeney made a mental note never to RP, blissfully unaware that there were hundreds, if not thousands, of people RPing as Sweeney himself. If he had known, he may well have ended it all right then and there, but he didn't.
At last, the end of the damned class! He rushed back to Fleet Street, swearing never to go near a computer ever, ever again.