My dad and I came up with this idea. We were discussing my latest story Delayed Promises, and this came up. Please review to tell me what you think.
Disclaimer: My dad doesn't own Sweeney Todd either.
A pie fit for a barber
Mrs. Lovett closed the barber's door behind her, stomping down the stairs. She threw open the door of her meat pie shop, slamming it with fury. She stood in the middle of the room, tearing at her hair.
She was sick.
She was tired.
Mrs. Lovett was ready to quit on the barber. Day in and day out, she made the pies from his victim's, cleaning up his messes, not to mention the money she sacrificed for all his new shirts. But, for all she did for him, Mr. Todd ignored her, caring only for those damn razors.
It was time for revenge of her own.
Mrs. Lovett walked over to her faithful counter, picking up a tray, which was Mr. Todd's breakfast. On the tray was a pie she had set there a moment ago.
A special pie.
She exited her shop, climbing the stairs and entering the barber's. Speak of the demon, there he was. Mr. Todd was sitting on his chair, fingering that infernal razor. He didn't even glance her way, eyes full of silver.
"Mr. T?" He finally looked over, a murderous glare directed at her.
"Wot?"
"It's lunch time!" She declared, holding out the tray toward him. The look he gave her told her 'No.'
"Dearie, ya have ta eat. How do ya expect ta get the revenge you've been talkin' about fer months now if you don't have the strength to do it?" The glare he gave her didn't change, but with the glare there was another emotion. Consideration. He slowly reached out toward the tray, plucking up the pie. He examined it, turning it carefully around in his hands. After a few minutes, he raised it to his mouth, and took a bite.
Surprise flitted across Mr. Todd's face.
"Wot's in this, Mrs. Lovett?" He asked cautiously. She didn't answer him until she had opened the door, stepping outside. She turned back around to him, smirking.
"Barber." She replied, closing the door.
Mr. Todd gaped. He stared at the closed door. He could think of nothing, too surprised. His face hardened as when what happened finally caught up to him. He cursed and threw the pie, not particularly aiming it in any direction. The pie burst after hitting a wall, the contents splattering everywhere. He then walked to the window, starting to pace.
Mrs. Lovett would get her turn in the oven someday. He would make sure of that.
What did you think? This was an idea my dad and I were tossing around for a while before I finally started typing. We liked the irony and worked on it together. Once again, please review to tell us how you think.