~Regression~
"Committed?!" Toby took a step between the feuding couple.
"You wouldn't dare do that ter me!" Mrs Lovett said defiantly. She expected sadism, violence, cruelty and insensitivity; not the sort of skulduggery which Judge Turpin indulged in.
"I can do anything I like Mrs Lovett," beamed Sweeney Todd too toothily, "now that we're married."
She backed away, wondering if the china pot in the parlour containing Albert's ashes would come in handy. It had finally happened. Judge Turpin's soul had possessed Mr Todd's brain. "Come 'ere Toby love," Mrs Lovett urged. "It's not safe no more. Mr T's been cracked by an evil spirit."
"Speak of the devil, mum!" The boy pointed to the door.
"There's been a breach of justice here!" Judge Turpin bellowed as the trio met him at the door.
"Injustice!" the Beadle echoed, with a cacophonous snort. White powder sprayed across the pie shop windows.
Barber and baker looked nonplussed. "Of what sort?"
"You sir, are a bigamist!" The Judge produced two pieces of paper, and slapped them on the counter. "You are married to two women, and for that I have the power to arrest you. "Not only that," he went on, eyes barely concealing his deep delight, "you are that one villainous Benjamin Barker, returned to haunt London."
"I think he means you're dead," Mrs Lovett whispered.
"I will be," said the crafty barber, "unless I kill him first."
Mrs Lovett handed him her meat cleaver lying on the table. "If you're goin' ter bloody up me kitchen floor, Mr Todd, you might as well use somethin' decent."
"Thank you, my pet." It truly was thoughtful of her to think ahead. She may prove useful yet. No need to throttle her so soon. Just as he was about to wrap the cleaver around the Judge's gnarly throat, Sweeney had another epiphany. Why not deliver the ultimate punishment, one that not even the great Judge had the power to deliver? After all, the teabag had worked before...
"I wish Judge Turpin had never been born!"
* * *
Judge Turpin was not in the least bit fazed by this admission. Dead men were always telling him to hang in hell. Men who were about to be hung. Dead men. They were all the same anyway. Their cries would always fall on deaf ears. Only this time, not even he had the power to alter the magic of the teabag.
"He's gettin' quite small," Mrs Lovett observed, watching the Judge rapidly descend into the folds of his clothes faster than a sewer rat scurrying off into the drains.
If they strained their ears hard enough, a small low voice could be heard begging from under the clothes: "pray don't return me to my mother's womb!"
"Not dead enough," said Sweeney viciously, and lifted his boot in the same hovering manner as a Roman Emperor's thumb before deciding the guilty verdict, and slammed it down hard over the form of the disappearing Judge.
"Someone's snuffed out the lights! Where are we?" Mrs Lovett yelped in the midst of Judge Turpin's un-birth.
"In oblivion, I shouldn't wonder," Sweeney said mildly, shrugging his shoulders impassively in the black void.
It was very dark. Barber and baker gripped hands. A flashing light descended on the bakehouse. Mrs Lovett wondered if this was a sign that the little men from Mars were finally coming down from space to colonise London. She had read all about it in The War of the World, after all. Sweeney, on the other hand, was rhapsodising over the fact that his silver streak had suddenly disappeared. "No torture lines," he beamed, patting his arms against his pants excitedly.
"Do I look twenty years young too?" his partner-in-crime wanted to know.
Naturally, he ignored her.
As the light cleared, a vision in white appeared. It was her! The angel!
"Ah! There she is!" Sweeney bowled over Mrs Lovett in an attempt to tackle a young, sane, clean-smelling Lucy.
"Hello Ben," she said sweetly, and immediately inquired after Mrs Barker's health.
"Fine, never better," laughed Nellie, with a twinkle in her eye.
"You can't ask about your own health," Sweeney Todd spat, missing the point. "You are Mrs Barker." He felt the old familiar temper pulsing up through his temples.
"Another joke," Lucy said amiably, rolling her eyes. "I danced with you once, at the Fleet Street ball, do you remember?"
Even as "Ben", Sweeney found that he couldn't recall any of his old memories. Thwarted again.
"Well," Lucy continued, "that's in the past now. "I'm one Mrs Bamford, as of today." She displayed a beautiful pearl and diamond ring, and Mrs Lovett made the appropriate gushing noises. "He's been appointed Judge, you know."
"I'm sure he'll execute justice fairly," Mrs Lovett winked, with an emphasis on "execute."
Sweeney shot daggers at the new Mrs Barker. He drank in his dazzling blonde wife. A mirage, quite possibly. A hallucination even. A ghost – if they were all dead. "Care to join us for dinner?" he spluttered. "You and – the –"
He felt two white fingers pinch him discreetly in the side. "Judge Bamford." The very sound of a title such as that attached to the Beadle's name sent his hands itching for his razors. Where were they?
"So it's true," Mrs Lovett said the minute Lucy Barker was out of earshot and wandering amidst the petunias in the flower shop. "Judge Turpin's kicked the bucket!"
~*~*~*~
A/N: One more chapter to go! Whoo-hoo! Huge apology for not reviewing for a while. I do plan to read your stuff. I'm actually itching to do so. I get a week and a bit holiday soon for Easter! Celebrations!!!!!!!
It'sOnlyForever.x: Well like I say, Mrs Lovett knows how to pick the Mr Sensitives in this world, Albert and Mr T ;)
F8WUZL8: F8tey, you're absolutely right! I hate Victorian London for the exact reason that horrible *cough* Sweeney-ish guys could do this if they wanted. But Sweeney got his own served in this chapter, clearly!
linalove: Thanks for reviewing, as always! I'm really looking forward to reading some more of your fics this weekend. =)
AngelofDarkness1605: Any line to make you break into a smile and chip away at any bad moods/party times is worth it! Hopefully you'll find this chapter to your satisfaction =D
the-sadisticalovett-nutcase: Actually, I didn't get the headless idea from Alice, I just like the sound of "headless heads". But it seems to fit, and Helena loves her bloody women characters, doesn't she? The Red Queen was my favourite favourite character in the movie, by far. I love all her lines.
Sakura Katana: Yes, you know I can't see Mrs Lovett in yellow, try as I might. It seems more Lucy's colour. I've finally seen Alice, and although at times Johnny's voices had me scratching my head, I loved loved loved Helena's version of the Red Queen!