This is just a short two-shot. This is how I think Sweeney Todd should have ended.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd. Duh.

Chapter One: Revenge is Sweet

As the judge burst into the small shop, Sweeney tried to gather his bearings. Killings always had always given him a wonderful rush, but he had never slaughtered a woman before. Usually he was calm after murdering anyone, but the tension that had been building while he had been waiting for the judge had suddenly broken out, and he was slightly shaky.

"Where is she?" demanded the Turpin.

Sweeney turned around. "Below," he said, slightly shakily. "With my neighbor." The judge looked immensely anxious and about to charge back down the stairs. Sweeney stepped forward hastily. "Thank heavens that sailor did not molest her," he said, pulling the judge gently into the shop. All he needed was for that dirty bastard to trust him, just for a moment or two. It was a good thing for Sweeney that he had a tongue to sooth even the most agitated of gentlemen. He knew exactly what to say. "Thank heavens too that she has seen the error of her ways."

It worked. "She has?" Turpin asked in a completely different voice, sounding like a slightly lost child.

"Oh yes," said Sweeney. He kept his face comforting, while his insides were full of hatred and disgust for the man who would rape a woman and then marry her daughter. "Your lesson was well learned. She speaks only of you, longing for forgiveness."

Turpin's face hideous face softened. "Then she shall have it," he said piteously. Abruptly, he was anxious again. "She'll be here soon?"

Focus on your goal, Sweeney thought to himself, holding down the urge to retch. "Yes," he told the judge. The bastard still was not where Sweeney needed him to be.

The Turpin smiled. "Excellent, my friend."

Sweeney smiled back. The filth still thinks I'm on his side, he thought. Then he spoke the words that had been the last for many a gentleman's ears.

"How 'bout a shave? Sit, sir, sit."

The judge sat in Sweeney's trap chair. "Johanna, Johanna," he murmured.

"Yes, sir, Johanna," Sweeney said, spreading the cloth around Turpin. Now he's comfortable. He's not going anywhere, he thought, unfolding his favorite razor. Sweeney could take his time with his revenge.

"How seldom it is when one meets a fellow spirit," said Turpin lazily, not looking at Sweeney.

"With fellow tastes," agreed Sweeney.

And in that moment, he suddenly knew that killing the judge would not be enough. He needed Turpin to know exactly who's hand he was about to die by.

"In women, at least."

"What's that?" asked the scum in the chair, not realizing the meaning to Sweeney's words.

"The years, no doubt, have changed me, sir," said Sweeney, leaning toward the judge. "But then I suppose the face of a barber-" Turpin looked up, slowly understanding "-the face of a prisoner in the dark, is not particularly memorable." Sweeney smiled, raising his hand holding the razor as the judge's look of calm relaxation was replaced by one of fury.

"Benjamin Barker!" Turpin said, his voice shaking with anger.

"BENJAMIN BARKER!" bellowed Sweeney, his own voice full of rage and hatred and disgust. Without hesitation, he plunged his razor into the judge's neck. Blood sprayed over the wall's, covering Sweeney's face. He stabbed Turpin again, three, four, five times, until his savagery was spent. The judge gurgled weakly, looking up at Sweeney, barely alive. Sweeney slashed his throat one last time, and watched as the Turpin's head fell backward. Stepping on the pedal, the judge's pathetic corpse tumbled down to the bake house, making a satisfying crack as his head his the stone floor.

Sweeney held his razor aloft, his shirtsleeve soaked in blood. He could not think of anything, of Mrs. Lovett down below, of Lucy up above, even of Johanna. All he could feel was the remarkable weight taken off of his weary shoulders. The judge was dead. Judge Turpin. Gone. Dead. Sweeney's work was finally complete. He had not spent 15 years slaving in Australia for naught. He could finally rest.

Sweeney looked into his reflection on his razor and at last saw a man untroubled by unpaid debts. "Rest now, my friend," he murmured to the tool of his freedom, kneeling at his chair and placing the razor on it. "Rest now forever. Sleep now the untroubled sleep of the angels." Everything could wait now. There was no hurry for anything. Curling on the floor, the demon barber finally drifted into a beautiful, dreamless sleep.

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So, what does everyone think? It's not my best work, but it's how definitely Sweeney Todd SHOULD have ended. Not that that's the end. Oh no. More is coming. More is coming very soon…..mwahahahaha.

By the way, does anyone else find the idea of Sweeney fast asleep really, really adorable? I do. Please review!!! First fanfic!!