LOWER TIDMOUTH SQUARE
The street was packed; stand after stand as far as the eye could see. They had fruits and vegetables, meats, garments, wigs, you name it. Sweeny Tom and Pinkamena were there but not to buy. The former had something else in mind. "He's Italian and all the rage." said Pinkamena. "Some claim they've never had a smoother shave."
Sweeny Tom grunted then froze. Pinkamena followed his gaze. There examining a carpenter's stand was Beadle Gordon. Almost immediately after he saw him, anger and vengeance swelled up inside Sweeny Tom and he rested his hand on his razor.
"Save it, Blue Eyes." Pinkamena slapped his wrist. "This ain't no stinkin' Western story. 'Sides, there's too many witnesses." The barber reluctantly agreed.
Just then, they heard a loud drumming. The two turned their heads to a stage where someone who looked like a boy wearing a riding cap who was beating a drum to direct everyone's eyes at the stage.
"Etienne":
Ladies and gentlemen!
May I have yer attention please?!?
Do ya wake in the morning to find out in despair
That yer pillow is covered with hair
Or something that ain't suppose to be there?
Pinkamena cupped a hand to her ear. That voice sounded a little feminine. "And a little rural too..."
"Etienne":
Well, ladies and gentlemen,
From now on, ya can all awaken at ease!
Ya'll never again have a worry or care!
I'm a gonna show you a miracle that's marvelous and rare!
Gentlemen, y'all are about to see what rose from the dead
On the top of my head.
The child took off "his" derby and revealed a short length of blond hair. The crowd roared with laughter as "he" picked up a bottle and showed it to them.
"Etienne":
T'was Coltelli's Miracle Elixir,
That's what did the trick, sir
True, sir, true.
Was it quick sir?
Did in a tic sir,
Just as an elixir
Oughta do!
"He" threw it to Sweeny Tom and Pinkamena who had just lurked up, then started showing off another bottle.
"Etienne":
How'd ya like a bottle sir?
Only costs a penny guaranteed.
Does Coltelli's
Stimulate the growth sir?
Ya can have my oath, sir,
Tis unique.
Rub a minute
Stimulating, init?
Soon ya'll have to thin it
Once a week.
While "he" was singing, Sweeny Tom and Pinkamena were smelling the elixir; it didn't smell inviting. They nodded to each other as they got on to the same idea. Just as the "boy" was was about to demonstrate, Sweeny Tom interrupted.
Sweeny Tom:
Pardon ma'am, what is that awful stench?
Pinkamena:
Are we standing near an open drench?
Both:
Beg pardon sir, what's that awful stench?
Are we standing near an open drench?
The "boy" figured it best to ignore them as "he" and "his" boss had come across this type before.
"Etienne":
Buy Coltelli's Miracle Elixir
Anything with slick, sir,
Suits brass and curls.
Try Coltelli's, when they see how thick sir,
Ya can have yer pick sir
Of the girls.
"Time to this up a notch, Mr. T," whispered Pinkamena. Sweeny Tom agreed and let her snatch a bottle from Cheerilee.
Sweeny Tom:
What is this?
Pinkamena:
What is this?
Sweeny Tom:
Smells like piss.
Pinkamena:
Smells like...hack!
Right then and there, she threw up. She recovered, sighing, "Much better." Sweeny Tom palm smacked his forehead. "Good thing this was based off a movie that was rated R."
Both:
(As if nothing happened)
What is this?
Smells like piss.
Piss with ink.
(to Cheerilee)
I wouldn't try it if I were you.
The "boy" was starting to panic as the crowd was starting to lose interest. The boss never said what to do with skeptics like these. "He" decided to just keep on singing and could only hope the boss showed up.
"Etienne":
(Trying to ignore them)
Let Coltelli's activate yer roots sir.
Sweeny Tom:
(to Big Macintosh)
Keep it off your boots sir.
Goes right through.
"Etienne":
(Now fully panicky)
Yer're scared Coltelli's is usable and of it,
Ladies seemed to love it.
Pinkamena:
(Deadpanned)
Parasprites too.
The "boy" was now at a loss of what to do as the crowd laughed harder. Just then, the curtains flew open and a man at Sweeny Tom's height sporting a pencil moustache (I think that's what those thin ones are called) stepped out, shooing his ward away.
Carlos Coltelli
I am Carlos Coltelli
Da king of da barbers
Da barber of kings.
E buon giorno, good day
I blow you a kiss!
And I, da so famous Coltelli
I wish-a to know-a
Who has-a the nerve-a to say
My elixir is piss!
Who say this?!
Sweeny Tom stepped forward. "I do. My name is Sweeny Tom from Tidmouth, uh the middle part. I have opened a bottle of you elixir and I say to you that it is nothing more than a fraud, concocted of piss and ink. Furthermore, I have served no kings and yet I wager 5 bits that I can shave a cheek with more dexterity and less time than a mountebank."
"You hear zis foolish man?" Coltelli called to the crowd. "He will-a regret his-a folly."
Sweeny Tom got up on the stage and produced two razors, one from his holster, the other from up his sleeve that landed in Coltelli's hand, and asked, "Who's for a free shave?"
The 2 held their razors high as several onlookers yelled "Me! Me! Me!" Pinkamena's eyes narrowed. "I swear, he keeps those things hidden almost like that clown can hide his cards." Then she noticed something else. "Call me crazier, but there's a little resemblance between those two."
Coltelli banged his staff on the stage twice. "Etienne!" His ward placed two chairs on opposite sides of the stage, then handed a sheet to each barber. Coltelli had selected Big Mac while Sweeny Tom chose a small green man whom he recognized as Percy.
"Will Beadle Gordon be the judge?"
The brute obligingly stepped on the stage. "Glad as always to oblige to my friends and neighbors." The barbers took their posts. "Ready?"
"A-ready."
"Ready."
"The fastest, smoothest shave is the winner!" boomed Gordon and he blew his whistle.
The two barbers started by sharpening their razors. For "Etienne", it was painful because every time Coltelli would bring down his razor, it would strike "his" fingers. Then it began. Coltelli had his own lather while Sweeny Tom wanted to make his own, so the former had a head start.
Coltelli:
Now signorini, signori
We mix-a da lather
But first-a you gather
Around.
Signorini, signori
You look at a man
Who had a glory to shave-a da pope!
Well, Mr. Sweeny whoever-
I beg-a your pardon
You'll probably say it was one
A cardinal-nope!
It was-a da Pope.
He produced a poster of a sketched face of the Pope. Everyone laughed...except Sweeny Tom.
Coltelli:
(Shaves at the end of each line)
To shave-a da face
To cut-a da hair
Require da grace
Require da flair
For if you make-a da slip
You'll nick-a da skin
You'll clip-a da chin
You'll rip-a da lip
Beyond-a repair!
To shave-a da face
So much as a part
Without it-a smart
Require da heart!
Not just-a da fassion,
It take-a da passion
For da art!
Sweeny Tom had started shaving Percy at this point while Coltelli was halfway through with Big Mac.
Coltelli:
To shave-a da face
To trim-a da beard
To make-a da bristle
Clean like a whistle
Dis is from infancy
Da talent given to me
By Awdry!
"If you're wondering why he said 'Awdry' and not 'God', it's the same reason we ponies say 'Faust'", whispered Pinkamena. Meanwhile, the barbers were neck and neck and almost through.
Coltelli:
It take-a da skill
It take-a da brains
It take-a da will
It take-a pains
It take-a da pace
It take-a da grace!
Holds the last note.
"That would make Sacha Baron Cohen jealous," remarked Sweeny Tom as he flicked the last bit off of Percy.
"The winner is Tom!" boomed Gordon. The crowd let out a thunderous applause and Sweeny Tom bowed. Coltelli angrily but calmly gave one last flick of his razor. Then he walked oner to his rival.
"Sir, I bow to a skill far greater than my own," he said with feigned respect.
Sweeny Tom held out his hand. "The 5 bits."
Coltelli grudgingly obliged, then signaled to his ward. "Come boy." "Etienne" obeyed, only to kicked into the curtains. Coltelli feigned a smile, then stormed off, babbling in Italian. As they left, they could hear things breaking and possibly beating.
"I don't have much of a heart, but I can't stand to see the poor thing abused so," grumbled Pinkamena.
As they continued on their way, they were accosted by Percy. "Thanks for the shave sir."
"Think nothing of it," replied Sweeny Tom. It was getting hard to resist embrace the guy. They were the best of friends before all the drama happened.
"May I ask if you have your own establishment?"
"He does," answered Pinkamena. "Sweeny Tom's Tidmouth Shaves. It's right above my bakery."
"You have my respect sir, to live in a place like that," whispered Percy to Sweeny Tom and walked away to where his engine was parked.
The barber felt something heavy inside him. There went his best friend who he hadn't seen for years. The weight lifted off when he spotted Beadle Gordon. He shuffled over. "Thanks for being the judge, Mr. Beadle."
"Well, always glad to help my friends and neighbors. They should be honored, considering I drive the engine that pulled the express." It was easier for Sweeny Tom to hide a scowl this time. "Where did you say your establishment was, Tidmouth?"
"Right sir."
"Well you shall me there before the week is out."
"And I guarantee that you will have the smoothest shave you've ever experienced."
TIDMOUTH, BARBER ROOM, THE NEXT DAY
"Where is he?" growled Sweeny Tom, pacing angrily. "He'd said he'd be here before the week is out."
"It's only been 24 hours." said Pinkamena who was sitting by the window. "Be patient." Something-or rather someone-caught her eye. "Here. What's the Itailian doing her?"
"Go see what he wants."
OUTSIDE
Pinkamena made it to the steps and met Coltelli and "Etienne". "Is Signor Tom around?" asked the former.
"Upstairs," said she. The "boy" wasn't a pretty sight. She clicked her tongue. "Looks like you could use a sweet."
"Si," answered Coltelli and he hurried off.
Pinkamena turned to "Etienne" and for the first time, genuine kindness lit up on her face. "Come on, I'll give you a nice, sweet cupcake." The "boy's" face lit up also.
FROM UP ABOVE
Sweeny Tom was polishing his razor when Coltelli entered. "Afternoon."
"Good day. I've come for my bits."
Sweeny Tom froze. For some reason, the accent was slipping. "I won them. It's your loss."
Coltelli chuckled. "Oh I think I'm entitled to it, after the 'good' times we had." Sweeny Tom began to wonder how long they'd be down there.
Speaking of which, Pinkamena put a saucer with a cupcake on the table then sat down. "I imagine it must be hot when that hair gets long."
"Actually," the child pulled off the wig, revealing short red hair. "It's not as bad as ya think."
Pinkamena's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. "Apple Bloom?"
The now-a girl was equally surprised. "Pinkie Pie!"
The two old friends embraced.
But upstairs was another reunion that wasn't so cheery. The two heard the squeals. "So the ward was a fake." growled Sweeny Tom.
"She isn't the only one," replied Coltelli, his accent now completely different, "You don't recognize me. Don't blame you; all I did was clean up after you in the olden days." Here his fake smile faded. "Brother Thomas."
Sweeny Tom dropped his razor. He got a good long look at Coltelli and saw...himself. "Brother Charleston."
His sibling smirked. "Correct. Now this will be our little secret, IF you give me the 5 bits. Or else I'll go running to the Beadle. He'll be very interested in who's here. What do you say to that," his fake accent returned, "Mr. Sweeny Tom?" He laughed like a madman, then began to cough. His brother had vanished in a puff of dark blue smoke. "Since when could he do that?"
"I'm full of surprises," hissed a voice behind him.
Charleston's eyes widened. "Oh sh-"
BANG!
BAM!
DING!
DONG!
DING!
Sweeny Tom brought the kettle down hard on Charleston's head as hard as he could muster. Pinkamena heard the noise from down below. "He's fixing the stove," she told Apple Bloom, "it only takes a few bangs to get functional. So tell me," she changed her tone to curious with a tiny bit of hostility, "how did you get roped into a meanie pants like that Itailian?"
"Well," started Apple Bloom, "after mah family mysteriously disappeared, ah did a disappearing act of mah own. Eventually, ah came upon Coltelli and he agreed to take me in. In time ah became more of a slave than an adopted child."
"Life must've been hard knock for you."
"Not really, ah've gotten use to the lashings."
"I shouldn't wonder..." murmured Pinkamena.
Apple Bloom suddenly got up. "Oh mah. He has an appointment to keep and he detests lateness!" She bolted out of the room before Pinkamena could stop her.
"But she didn't finish her cupcake."
Apple Bloom bolted up the steps and burst into the barber room. "Mr. Coltelli, ya have a-"
She broke off. Her master wasn't there. Sweeny Tom was there, polishing.
"He had to leave."
"Oh. Ah'll wait." Apple Bloom plopped down on a trunk. Sweeny Tom noticed this and began to panic; Charleston's arm was sticking out!
"Uh, he said he'd be awhile so, um, maybe you should go."
"Nah, he'd eat me alive."
"I'd do the same thing to whoever is writing this." murmured Sweeny Tom, then he tried a different approach. "That cupcake must've made you thirsty. Why don't pop back down and ask for some ale?"
"Ah don't know. Mah family was a little strict about what ah drank..."
The barber waved his hand. "Oh come now. You've put up with that mean man for all those years. Surely a drink stronger than cider can't be all that bad?" Seconds later, he was talking to empty air. Then he opened the lid. Charleston got up, panting. "I'm not that bad," whispered the voice behind him.
Then without warning, Sweeny Tom stabbed his brother's throat and ripped it across the neck. Charleston hacked and gagged as blood spilled everywhere: his clothes, Tom's clothes, the floor, the trunk, the whole shebang. "Well, maybe just a tad."
Later, Pinkamena came up. "Whoo can that girl drink! So when's that meanie coming back?"
"He won't." Sweeny Tom faced her, revealing his bloodstained sleeve.
The cupcake lady gasped excitedly. "Oh Mr. T, you didn't!" She opened the trunk and found the bloody corpse. She squealed with glee and almost literally flew at the barber and threw her arms around him. "Knew you had it in you!" She looked up at him. "Did his number come up?"
"He was my brother. Tried to blackmail me out of my earnings."
She shrugged. "Explains the resemblance. So what are we going to do with him?" Before he could answer, she began guiding him down the steps. "Never mind. I have an idea."