Just a short story I wrote while letting my mind wander about the movie Sweeney Todd. What would have been comical during the first attempt of murdering Judge Turpin?


There he was; his neck completely vulnerable and out in the open. Such a perfect little chance to watch the rich crimson ink dribble and flow from his veins, like a waterfall of souls leaking out into the air. A wild look arose in the dark eyes of the barber, who loomed over his oblivious customer.

The moment I have so longed for, all these years.

The man sitting in the chair has wisps of gray hair protruding like thin wires from atop his head, a greasy and repulsive sight for the barber above him. His skin was aged and wrinkled, along with the unpleasant odor of poor hygiene floating from his being. He seemed to be lost in his own merry thoughts, mumbling a light and happy tune.

It was like poison for the maniacal barber's ears.

A man of great skill, this barber stared hungrily at the clean neck before him, desperately wanting to slash and martyr it beyond all belief, pouring every ounce of hatred within his reborn demon self into his revenge. This was the exact opportune moment he had been waiting for, planning towards, for 15 years. He wanted this evil yet fulfilling deed to be carried out with immediately, for he felt he could not contain the devil inside of him for very much longer.

All good things come to those who can wait.

Mrs. Lovett's suggesting words lingered in his mind, and he suppressed an impatient groan; he did not want to wait a second more to spill this wicked man's dirty blood! This same man who robbed him of everything he held dear to him: a home, a job, a wife and child. This man did not deserve the barber's patience, let alone another minute to breathe and hum his disgusting merry little tune.

Revenge can't be taken in haste.

He calmed down the dreadful monster within him, just long enough to reach over and affectionately slip a razor into his eager hands, never once removing his eyes from the bare flesh beneath Judge Turpin's chin. He could see the veins pulsating beneath the tender skin, and a malicious grin crept upon his pale face. With his dark, wild hair, save for the shock of white that ran down off-center of his hair, and his black, hateful eyes, now with the added sinister grin, one would die of fright, thinking they had witnessed the devil in the middle of an evil deed himself.

"Make haste, and in this work you'll be commended, sir," came the nauseating voice of the judge waiting for a shave in the chair.

The barber furrowed his brows at this sudden intrusion that cut his thought process of his darkest thoughts. "My lord," he began, successfully keeping his voice calm and patient. "And who, may it be said, is your intended, sir?" He knew this judge was trying to freshen up for a woman he took a fancy to, and was apparently planning to marry. He pitied any woman who would have to suffer the rest of his life waking up next to this slimy, greasy rat every morning. However, deep down, he feared most for one particular youthful girl, whom he prayed would never have to be bound to this vulture forever.

"My ward. Pretty as a rose bud."

His heart stopped cold, and that same homicidal intent came rushing like a burst of adrenaline through his whole body, Straining, now, to keep his voice even, he slipped out, "Pretty as her mother?"

That was a mistake.

"What?" The judge was confused now, not sure if he had heard this man correctly. The barber was almost panicky, cursing himself mentally for letting such a thought slip from his lips.

But no matter.

"Nothing, sir," he quickly caught himself, no longer able to hold off any longer. His eyes were dark once again, focusing hard on the bare neck before him, visualizing the precious rubies that would leak from his veins and drip from his razor.

With great force and enthusiasm, Sweeney Todd, the demon barber of Fleet Street, ran his razor across the devil of a man in the chair, grinning as he yearned for the spilling of the judge's blood. Everything seemed to be in slow motion, and his mind was reeling, his face flushing with anger and vengeance. Would it spill like wine from a tipped-over goblet? Or would it spurt out violently in spasms? He could not wait to see. Oh, how this one slash across his throat seemed to take a lifetime!

But there was no blood.

There were no severed veins, no spraying blood, no howls of pain, nothing.

"What the bloody hell?!" Sweeney Todd cried out, furious at his failed attempt of murder. His eyes traveled to the cutthroat razor in his right hand.

But there wasn't a cutthroat razor.

"What the devil is this?! This isn't my cutthroat razor! It's a stupid, bloody... no, it's nowhere near bloody! It didn't even make a single scratch! This useless, horrible, conniving, son of a..."

Mr. Todd was so busy fuming over this strange device in his hand, that he had not even noticed Judge Turpin jump up in surprise from his chair and sprint out of the barber shop, horrified and angered.

The strange device in Sweeney Todd's hand was a dull gray and black color, with a slender handle. Instead of a long, knife-like blade, there was a flat, horizontal head with small slits of metal running across it. Over this head, was a clear covering. He removed the covering, and curiously brought the head up to his cheek, next to a patch of stubble. He cautiously ran the strange blade across his cheek.

The stubble was gone, with hardly any effort, and it was a lot smoother than his cutthroat razors.

Sweeney Todd, the demon barber of Fleet Street, had just discovered the safety razor.


However, if they had safety razors back then, this movie would not have been as amazing or intriguing as it was. Thank you Stephen Sondheim for making this musical, and Tim Burton for making it an awesome movie.

Reviews are most definitely welcome! Tell me what you thought and what I could have done better, please only constructive criticism! If you are only reviewing to complain and not give me suggestions on how to fix things, please DO NOT bother reviewing. Thanks!