Okay. Be forewarned – the horror begins in this chapter! Thanks for reviewing, yeezynight14, Bloodylilcorpse, Lonestarr (thanks...I started writing Hercules with Leharold, though).

"Why hasn't he come yet?"

Four days had passed since the contest, and Mal was pacing downstairs. Scott had promised to pay a visit to the establishment, and he still hadn't put in an appearance.

Scarlett was leaning on the counter, looking amused. "Give it some time." she said. "You've had several customers already, and didn't all of them tip you well?"

Mal's visible eye lit up slightly. "True." he said. "But I can't be happy until I get my revenge on the judge and his sneaky sidekick. And I might as well get the latter out of the way first."

"Patience." Scarlett said, her tone deadpan. "It's a virtue. One maybe you should possess."

Mal turned to face her. "Fifteen years." he said in the same tone. "That's how long I've waited. Screw patience for longer than that."

Scarlett raised her eyebrows, but didn't have time to finish, as two people entered at that moment.

"Hey, what's up?" It was Chris McLean himself, with his tiny assistant tagging along.

Mal managed to smile at him. "Hello. How are things going?"

"Oh, wonderfully!" Chris said in a bright friendly tone. "Anyway, speaking of, I was wondering if we could talk." He glanced at Scarlett and his assistant, clearly indicating that he wanted it to be one-on-one.

Mal saw the glance, and shrugged. "Why not? My establishment is actually up the outside stairs. Follow me."

Chris did so. The younger boy stood up to follow him, but Chris turned and said harshly "Stay here until I'm done, Cameron. And stop looking like you think you'll be beaten!"

As the two men left, the amused smirk returned to Scarlett's face. "Nice way to talk to an apprentice." she said openly.

"Well, it's the best I could get, with my past." Cameron said shyly. "Chris isn't a nice person, but he doesn't treat me like I have the plague. I was isolated in a bubble when I was younger, so I wasn't very experienced, but he took me on anyway."

"And I suppose it works that you've got hair like the King of Pop?" Scarlett said, her tone serious, but her eyes teasing.

"Oh, it's not real." Cameron said, taking off the curly wig to reveal his real hair, thick and dark, but straight and much less attractive. "To be honest, I'd rather be doing something more productive. Like going to college." Scarlett looked surprised, and Cameron quickly explained "I know I look young for my age. I'm actually fifteen, but I passed my exams a few years early, so I could go. At least, if I had the money. But my family can't afford it, and only Chris would take me on to work, and all he does is support me – I don't get paid."

While Scarlett talked with Cameron, she found herself surprisingly enjoying the conversation. She soon discovered that Cameron was very intelligent – in fact, possibly the most intelligent person she knew besides herself. She couldn't help liking the teenager.

Meanwhile, not so pleasant happenings were occuring up in Mal's little shop.

"Nice place." Chris said, not really meaning it. "Guess you didn't have time to clear up before I came in, huh?"

"I don't have a million members of staff or a lackey to boss around." Mal said, his snark betrayed by his smile. "So what business do you have with me?"

"Oh, well, with you, I don't know." shrugged Chris. "I was just thinking, you look so much like someone I used to know..." he paused, before he said the name. "Mike."

Mal froze for a second when he heard his old name, and Chris caught it. "Didn't recognize me, did you? I was just starting out – helping out at the salon for a little cheddar when you were still in town. But after that contest, I thought it must be you. Your voice is different, but when I was sweeping up hair at the salon, I saw the way you cut and styled hair. No one else could do it the way you did. And, well...it would be a pity if someone went to the law and said they'd found the exiled hair expert in town, wouldn't it?"

Mal's voice was deeper than usual when he spoke again. "What is it you want?"

"Oh, just a good percentage of your earnings." Chris said lazily. "Say, half of each day during the week? Three quarters on weekends?"

The smug attitude of the man enraged Mal. He couldn't think properly. His temper was at boiling point, and at that moment, his fist drew back and Chris had a black eye. Make that two.

The blows to the head dazed the man enough for Mal to finish what he began. He wasn't sure what was happening, but his hand reached for a razor, it went to Chris' throat, and suddenly, a curtain of blood covered the man's neck and he began coughing weakly.

"You..." he began, but he never got to finish. The dark eyes went blank, and Chris McLean was gone.

At that moment, Mal's mobile phone rang. He picked up. "Hello?"

"Are you done with Chris?" It was Scarlett. "Cameron wants to come up there. Is that all right?"
Mal looked around wildly. He didn't feel one bit guilty for killing Chris, but he did feel a little worried. "Keep him down there!" he ordered. "Any means necessary. You have whisky and gin down there, don't you? Offer it to him or something."

"But...but..." Scarlett protested. "I could get closed down for selling alcohol to a fifteen-year-old!"

"You're not selling it, you're giving it to him. On the house." Mal said impatiently. "No one's going to find out that you gave it to him. Just make sure he's occupied, then come up here and I'll explain what happened." He hung up.

Scarlett, back in the bakery, shrugged and obeyed his orders. Within ten minutes, it had done its job. Cameron was so tiny, and had never drank a drop of alcohol in his life. So after only about three glasses worth, he was almost slumped over the table he was sitting at, so quiet that if it wasn't for the movement that showed his breathing, he would have appeared as dead as his employer.

Scarlett closed the bakery and joined Mal up in the shop, but stopped in the doorway when she saw the corpse. "What happened up here?" she asked in a whisper.

"He tried to scam me." Mal said, his face deadpan. "I couldn't stop myself from attacking him, and I'm not sorry I did it."

"What about Cameron?" Scarlett pointed out. "He's unconscious right now, but he's going to wake up sometime, and he's going to wonder what happened to Chris."

Mal shrugged. "Maybe we could tell him Chris had a heart attack or something? Or just kill him too-"

"I think the heart attack story is a better idea." Scarlett interrupted. "I might need some help in the shop, anyway. Maybe he'll think of a better way to draw in customers. He seems very intelligent, though naive in very many social aspects of life."

"Whatever." Mal shrugged. "We just have to make sure he doesn't go running to the cops."

At that moment, they heard footsteps on the stairs, and both froze. Scarlett's eyes fell on the large chest in the corner.

"Would he fit?" she asked in a whisper. Mal nodded and she opened the chest so that Mal could stuff Chris in there. While he pushed the corpse in, Scarlett found a rag to clean up at least some of the blood, and both finished just as the door was opened, and a smooth voice rang out.

"Excuse me, I'd like to make an appointment."

Mal recognized the speaker immediately, and he had to fight not to slip back into a mindless rage.

Who wanted the hair appointment? Well, if you've seen the show, you'll know who it is. Hope you liked this chapter!