Hey people! It's another one! Oh, quick, duck, its flying satire!
(Oooh, look, everyone, it's Sweeney. Pacing sexily all over his "tonsilly parsley.")
Fangirls: (glomp)
Random Shaker Lady: Ah! It's a dude!
Random Catholic Dude: Ah! I feel lust for the first time ever! And it's for a guy! Uh…is this a sin? I think so. But I don't remember. I shoulda paid more attention in Confirmation class. AVEMARIAAVEMARIAAVEMARIA!!!!
The Pope: Ah! Fan fiction is a sin! Gemme out gemme out!
Iscrit: Ah! I just got mobbed by Focus on the Family and Rush Limbaugh!
Mrs. Lovett: (walking into the tonsilly parsley) So-o, sexy…
Sweeney: Don't call me that.
Mrs. Lovett: Anyway, Strong Pirelli's here to tell you secrets. And he's left his the Cheat downstairs with me for gin and gossip. (bounces down the stairs like a schoolgirl who just saw Robert Pattinson...naked.)
Sweeney: I LOVE SECRETS!!!!!!!
Strong Pirelli: (walking in to the tonsilly parsley) Hey, guess what?
Sweeney: What? Is Britney Spears really getting married to that kid from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?
Strong Pirelli: Uh…no. Where the crap did you get that from?
Sweeney: But Mrs. Lovett said you had a secret!
Strong Pirelli: Oh, right. The Secret Of All Secrets.
Sweeney: TELLTELLTELL!!!!!
Strong Pirelli: I'm actually an egg-headed guy in a Mexican wrestling mask.
Sweeney: THAT'S IT?!?!?!?!?
Strong Pirelli: Uh…yeah.
Sweeney: That is so anticlimactic I have to sexily kill you with a teapot! (proceeds to do so)
Fangirls: I want Sweeney to sexily kill me with a teapot!
Sweeney: No such luck. (stuffs Strong Pirelli's body into a random BodyHider 3000® trunk)
The Cheat: (walking up stairs) Meh meh heelijimeh. (sits down on BodyHider 3000®)
(Sweeney gets veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery nervous at this.)
Sweeney: Okaynowlet'sjustheadbackdownstairsnowshallwe?Imeannottonothing…
The Cheat: Meh meh. (walks back down the stairs)
Sweeney: (exhales clichély)
Strong Pirelli: (dies rapidly and profusely)
Mrs. Lovett: (bursting into the room like Superman gone very, very, wrong) So, what just happened? His dumb the Cheat's out cold on the couch, drooling like a leaky anvil.
Analogy Police: We gonna have to detain you for that one.
Mrs. Lovett: (opens up a Tupperware fulla cockroaches on the Analogy Police) Take that, figments of my imagination!
Some Froofy Psychologist: You have acute schizophrenia-(is killed by Ms. DeLaO)
Ms. DeLaO: (wiping the blood from her hands (as she walks from the grave, no one was sa-aved) Would you like to tell me about your problems, Sweeney?
Sweeney: Uh…no.
Ms. DeLaO: But how do you feel about being a serial killer?
Sweeney: I'm not yet. I'm just a murderer now. Quit giving away my obvious decline into more madness than I already have. Audience, getter!
Audience: (getters)
Fangirls: THAT WASN'T SEXY ENOUGH FOR OUR HORMONAL LITTLE SELVES!!!!!!!!!!!!!(sue the pants offa Tim Burton again)
Sweeney: (poledances on the barber chair, much to the chagrin of some old guy)
Some Old Guy: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!(and rightly so)
Fangirls: SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!(and rightly so)
Iscrit: Ulgh. I can't believe I just wrote that. And no, Microsquash Word, I don't mean Olga instead of ulgh.