'Ello, all. Welcome to the second story in the 'Beckett's First' series. I'm dreadfully sorry I haven't updated in a while, but here I am. I must let you all know before I hear it in my reviews, this is supposed to be OOC. It is, but in what I hope is a funny way. I really love poking fun at my dear Beckett, but will never kill him or hurt him in any of these stories. I love him too much to do that. If y'all like this, there are plenty more 'Beckett's first' stories to come. If you have a good idea for a title of one, pm me or leave a review telling me. I'm always open to suggestions and constructive criticism, just no flames. So read, review, and enjoy!

I feel no need to write a disclaimer here. But this is where it would go.


Cutler Beckett hates getting his hair cut.

This hatred started when he was a lad in his late teens.

Cutler stared into the mirror of his room, fiddling with his shoulder length hair.

"Gah! It's impossible to keep this wretched hair out of my eyes! I hate my hair. Hate it – hate it – HATE IT!" Cutler pouted. Why must his hair always be so unmanageable? Whenever he pulls it back, there are always those few stubborn strands that fall back down over his face – giving him a sexy -- er……not professional appearance.

As he continued to blather on to no one in particular about his terrible hair, his mother passed by his room.

"Cutler!" She shrieked. "You know how much I hate it when you speak! If you're so upset about that mess on you're head, go get it cut, for God's sake! And while you're at it, why not throw out – or burn – that old bear you always sleep with. You're too old for it, and it's exceedingly ugly." She snapped at her son.

Cutler whipped around to face her, his face glowing with anger.

"YOU'RE UGLY! Get out of my room, you dastardly woman, and don't you ever speak of Mr.Stuffy in that way again!" Cutler fumed.

Cutler's mother laughed as she walked away. "Insolent boy." She muttered to herself as she strutted off like a diva.

Once she was out of sight, Cutler ran over and embraced the teddy bear lying on his bed. He cradled it in his arms as he said "Don't worry, I won't let the men lady hurt you. You're beautiful in my eyes, Stuffykins, and that's all that matters."

Cutler thought for a moment, then added, "Mr.Stuffy, do you think I ought to get my hair cut?"

Silence.

"Really? Well then, let's go! Let me just grab your bonnet –" Cutler picked up a pink bonnet and tied it to his bear's head. "Alright, we're off."

Cutler and Mr.Stuffy strode through the streets. They passed many poor and homeless people, and with each one they saw, Cutler held his beloved teddy closer to his chest.

"Wuffykins," Cutler quietly whispered to the mass of cotton tightly hugged to his chest, "are you sure there's a barber shop around here?"

Silence.

"Well, if you say so."

After a few more minutes of walking, Cutler passed a two-story building. The bottom floor read 'Mrs.Lovett's Pie Shop', and the top 'Sweeney Todd's Barber Shop'.

"Mr.Stuffy! Look! A barber shop and a pie shop! Let's stop in."

But as soon as Cutler and his bear began to go up the steps to the barber shop, he heard someone yelling. A loud thud followed.

"Um…let's go somewhere else…" Cutler said as he slowly backed away.

"Well, that didn't work out too much."

Silence.

"What, you wanted me to go inside and get in the midst of that fight? I could've been killed! Do you want me to be killed?"

Silence.

"What the hell was that supposed to mean!?"

"Excuse me, sir." A man asked timidly. He had been passing by when he saw a man vigorously shaking and yelling at a teddy bear.

Cutler gave Mr.Stuffy one last angry glance before he turned to the man who so rudely interrupted his conversation.

"What?"

"Um…is there a problem here?"

"Actually, I'm just trying to find a decent barber shop."

"Oh, well then, go straight, then left, then right, and you'll see a blue building. Look to the left of that, and you'll see a yellow one. Go two doors down from the yellow one, and you'll find a white house. That's the place you're looking for." The man explained.

"Thank you, kind sir." Cutler glanced at his teddy bear. "Thank the kind ma, Mr.Stuffy." Cutler said angrily.

Silence.

"There. It wasn't that hard, now was it?"

Cutler then looked up for the man, but he was already halfway down the street.

About half an hour later, a very tired Cutler and a very pissed off Mr.Stuffy arrived at the white house the man they met had described.

"Thank god, we're here!" Cutler yelled.

Silence.

"What do you mean, why did I bring you? You had a choice! … Whatever, let's just go inside the friggin building." The last sentence was muttered as Cutler made his way to the front door and inside the building.

An odd looking man with short black hair and one of those funny mustaches greeted the pair.

"Hello, sir. How may I help you?"

"I need my hair cut." Cutler got out as he sank into the barber chair for a much needed rest. He set Mr.Stuffy on the ground beside him.

"Yes, sir. I'm Anthony H and I will be your barber today."

"Alright, sir. Here is a mirror, how do you like it?"

Cutler gasped in horror at what he saw.

Cutler Beckett had a mullet.

But it wasn't just any mullet, oh no. The back was long, but the front – there was no front. The top of his head was bald.

Cutler was speechless. All he could do was stare.

"That will be one pound, sir." Anthony said.

"I will not be paying you for this – this abomination you call a haircut. Give me that wig over there." Cutler said in a dangerously low tone. He pointed to a white powdered wig in a corner.

"Are you unhappy with your hair, sir?"

"Give – me – the – wig."

Anthony gave Cutler the wig, which he hastily put on. Man, did he look sexy – sorry, professional…..

"I will be leaving now. Come along, Mr.Stuffy."

Cutler grabbed his bear and headed for the front door.

Silence, then –

"Don't you DARE laugh, Mr.Stuffy, or I'll kill you myself."

As he walked outside, Cutler saw the man who gave him the directions to the shop.

"How did it go?"

"I hate it."

"Really? Wow, that place is usually very good. Who did your hair?"

"A man called Anthony H."

"No," The man said. The look on his face was incredulous. "It's impossible. You sure it was Anthony H?"

"I believe I know who cut my hair, thankyouverymuch." Cutler shot back, annoyed.

"No…" The man started slowly, "Can't be. Anthony H hanged himself three years ago after giving a bad haircut. He's dead."

An evil laugh was heard from inside the building.

From then on, Cutler Beckett wore his white wig and vowed to never get his hair cut again.


Thank you, everyone who has read this, it means a lot! Now, you lot, review to show you care. :D