"When will another customer come?" Sweeney mumbles to himself as he paces back and forth in front of the window. Out of nowhere the bell on the door rings as it hits the wall. Sweeney spins around realizing he was too lost in his thoughts to hear the man come up the stairs. "Good day, sir. Come for a shave?" says Sweeney. "Yes, I've heard you're the best barber around." replies the man. "Well then. Sit, sir, sit. And I'll guarantee to give you the closest shave you will ever know." The man crosses the room and takes a seat in the chair.

Sweeney spreads a towel over him then prepares the lather. Once ready Sweeney picks up his razor and looks at his reflection in the blade and smiles. "Come now, my friend. Now to your purpose." he sings softly to it as he turns to face the man. "Tell me, sir, what is your name?" he says as he walks to the front of the chair. "George, sir." the man says. "You're in much need of a shave, George. Weren't you here last night by yourself enjoying one of Mrs. Lovett's meat pies?"

"Why, yes, I was. She makes the best pies in all of London. I'm still trying to figure out what kind of meat she uses; it's like nothing I've ever tasted before. Could you tell me, barber, what they are made of?" George said, unaware that Mr. Todd hadn't even started to shave the stubble upon his cheek.

"Yes, I can actually." Sweeney smiles evilly. "They're made out of my customers!" He raises his razor high and brings it down on the throat of the frightened man. He chokes then goes limp in the chair. Sweeney presses his foot on the pedal and watches the dead man slide off the chair down into the bakehouse. Sweeney finishes by tossing the man's coat and hat down, too. He turns away and looks at the bloody razor, cleaning it off.

"Rest now, my friend. Soon I'll unfold you. Soon you'll drip rubies." He sings as he folds it and gently lays it in the box beside the others then turns back to the window and continues pacing.