> Sweeny Tom > by Even Evil Has Standards > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Read if you dare > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The gray stallion stumbled out of the outhouse, shaking. "Hello, my little Bronies," he panted, "so sorry about my appearance. I am a little...um...shaken by what we-my...lodger and I-have made. It is our Dark and Edgy way of fighting the infamous Cupcakes story (as well as Shed 17). What you are about to read is...well, you've read the description so play a cracked record? Anyway, yes there'll be deaths and-above all-OOC personalities. It's also an expanded take on the dynamite incident from Sodor's Legend of the Lost Treasure. Before I turn things over to my, uh, associate, I'd like to point out that this is a darkfic as well as my first creepypasta." He shook his head. "Who in tarnation comes up with those things? At any rate, this should be read by: 1. Those who liked the stories mentioned above. 2. Those who have an unhealthy liking to gore. 3. Those who are brave (or stupid) enough. Well, I'm a gonna lay down. They're ready fer ya, Apple Bonker." The gray stallion entered the farmhouse and a few minutes later, the blue stallion with the green Ballwin apple Cutie Mark flounced out. "Hello," he crooned in a somewhat high voice. "You're all probably wondering what that was about. Let's just say I have a stronger stomach for this." He giggled menacingly, "For those of you who are reading beyond this point, let us also say that there is going to be twists and turns in this version as well as differences in songs; meaning not all the songs were in the adaptation this is based upon." His giggling became maniacal laughter as he held aloft a razor blade and made a declaration: "Two can play at this game, Sprinkles!" > Tragic Past > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- BRENDAM DOCKS 'Twas a foggy morning on the Island of Sodor as a ship was making her way along the sea to port. A young man, presumably twenty, stood at the starboard side. He had never been to Sodor, but had heard so much about it that he was eager to disembark. Someone else on board was also looking forward to stopping at Sodor, but for different reasons. Skiff: I have sailed the world, beheld its wonders, From the Dardenelles to the mountains of Peru. But there's no place like Sodor. But his singing was interrupted by a man in dark blue with baggy blue eyes and long brown hair. Sweeny Tom: No, there's no place like Sodor. "Mr. Tom?" asked Skiff. Sweeny Tom was a lot older than Skiff and had lived in Sodor for years under his real name, Thomas. At first, his life was prosperous. But something happened that caused him to have a bitter score to settle. Sweeny Tom: You are young. Life has been kind to you. But you will learn. Sweeny Tom proceeded to the bow, followed by Skiff, and stared at the harbor with disdain. Sweeny Tom: There's a hole in the world like a great black pit And the vermin of the world inhabit it And its morals aren't worth what a pig could spit And it goes by the name of Sodor. At the top of the morals sit the privileged few Mocking the vermin of the lonely zoo, turning beauty into filth and greed... I too have sailed the world and seen its wonders, For the cruelty of men is as wondrous as Peru But there's no place like Sodor! At last, the ship pulled alongside the harbor where the 2 travelers got off. As they did, Skiff noticed that Sweeny Tom had a far off look in his eyes. "Is everything alright, Mr. Tom?" Sweeny Tom shook his head. "I beg your indulgence, Skiff. My mind isn't at all calm." He surveyed the place with a look that could curdle milk. "In these streets that I used to know, I feel shadows." He stared off into the night, remembering. Sweeny Tom: There was an engineer and his wife, and she was beautiful. A foolish engineer and his wife, she was the reason and his life, and she was beautiful. And she was virtuous and he was naive. FLASHBACK-KNAPFORD PARK We go back 15 years to see a younger Thomas and his wife Rosie strolling through the park. He is helping her over to a bench because her pregnancy is making difficult to walk. They talk for a bit (It's inaudible from Tom's singing.), then Rosie lays her head on his shoulder and dozes off. There was a man who thought he saw that he was naive. A pompous tyrant of the law, who believed only what he saw And removed the engineer from his plate, and then there was nothing but to wait And she would fall! So soft, so young, so lost, and oh so beautiful! CONSTRUCTION SITE We fast forward to the infamous dynamite incident (It's hard to watch.), except that the drivers are in their namesake engines. Sir Topham Hatt watches from his spot, an angry look on his face. Down below, Thomas' engine had just shunted the cars of lit dynamite into the cavern. He applied the brakes, but the engine had too much momentum. Thomas had to jump clear as his beloved engine went over with the dynamite. There was a loud explosion, followed by lots of smoke. When it cleared, Thomas was holding Rosie, unsure of what to feel. Up above, Gordon lurked up. Sir Topham Hatt whispers something to him. Gordon disappears from sight as Sir Topham Hatt folds his arms. Down below, everyone is consoling Thomas when to policemen named Zak and Zebedee walk up. They each give Thomas a knock on the head with their truncheons and carry him off, much to Rosie's chagrin and horror. Stanley holds her as she feels faint. END FLASHBACK Sweeny Tom closed his eyes as he felt the pain he went through. For 15 years, he had to slave away in Maud Pie's Rock Emporium in Austrailia. Maud was a kind warden on the inside and had secretly taken a small shine to him. He also made friends with a guard named Shane. This gave him a release 5 years before the end of his 20 year sentence. Plus, he had a side job of barbering and he gave the smoothest shaves that impressed every stinkin' guard (except for the beardless ones that didn't need shaves). However, he changed his name to Sweeny Tom, bent on getting back at those who did him wrong. "It appears that we must go our seperate ways now," he told Skiff. "Agreed," said Skiff, "pehraps we shall meet again." "Perhaps." With that, the two men parted ways with Sweeny Tom heading for where he knew his old shop would be, muttering: Sweeny Tom: There's a hole in the world like a great black pit And the vermin of the world inhabit it And the moral isn't worth what a pig could spit. BARBER SHOP Sweeny Tom walked for hours (It would've taken longer than implied in your camera work Burton, though it was extravagent.) When he found it, he didn't even bother worrying about how worn and old it looked as he entered. When he did enter, however, he felt a little shocked to find a strange woman at the counter, slicing and dicing. She had pink hair that went straight down, but what was most disturbing was her dress: it appeared to be made of human flesh with each corner sporting a strange looking symbols that were mostly flowers, fruits, and academic things such as an hourglass with blue sand. His shock turned into fear when she looked up and noticed him with daunted eyes and a seemingly panned face. "A customer!" exclaimed Pinkamena. He started to back away, but she was to quick. Pinkanmena: Wait sir! What's your rush? What's your hurry? You gave me such a fright I thought you was a ghost! Half a minute, won't you sit, sit you down, sit! She forced him onto a bench. Pinkamena: All I meant was I haven't had a customer in weeks. Do you want a cupcake sir? Pardon if my head seems a little vague- She returned to the table and noticed a bug. "What was that?" She picked it up, flicked it on the floor, and squashed it, causing other bugs to scurry in fright. She resumed baking a cupcake for the dislussioned Sweeny Tom, stopping only to rid herself of those pesky insects. Pinkamena: But you'd think we'd have the plague, From the way people keep avoiding! ("No you don't.") Celestia knows I try, sir! But no one comes in even to inhale! She finished an old cupcake that looked more like a muffin and carried it over to him, then returned to the table with her head hung low. Pinkamena: Probably because even the air in here is stale! Another reason I can hardly blame them Is that these are the worst cupcakes in Sodor. I know why nobody takes them! I should know! I makes 'em. But good? No... Sweeny Tom looked at the cupcake he was given. Pinkamena was right: it didn't look inviting. He gave a sniff and winced; it gave off a strong odor. He glanced at the table where Pinkamena was using an EXTREMELY gooey batter. Pinkamena: Even that's polite! The worst cupcakes in Sodor! If you doubt it, take a bite! He did. The only reason he didn't look queasy was because the emporium took out most of his...outward health. Pinkamena poured some ale into a mug and brought it over to him. Pinkamena: Now isn't that just disgusting? You have to concede it! It's nothing, but crusting! Here drink this, you'll need it! Sweeny Tom spat out what he had bitten into a spitoon and hesitantly took a few sips. Pinkamena returned to her table, with a more tense air. Pinkamena: The worst cupcakes in Sodor! And no wonder with the price of meat when you get it. Meh'd used to think it was a treat, finding poor animals and people. She slammed some dough down on the table and used a rolling pin on it. Several times, Sweeny Tom attempted to say something, but the crazed baker just kept on singin', rollin', and poundin'. Pinkamena: Authorities had searched my old shop. Fine business, but they noticed something weird! All my friends and neighbors had disappeared! Some looked up to me! Throw away what's at stake! Croppin' colleagues into cakes! But unfortunately, I had to stop. Because the thought made the regulators sick! Sweeny Tom was beginning to look worse. That mug of ale was looking friendlier and friendlier. Pinkamena: Unfortunately, for them, I was more than quick! They closed it down. I left and came to this land and this town. I won't deny because I stopped, times is hard. Even harder than the worst cupcakes in Sodor! Only lard and nothin more- She finished and spread the weak dough all over a tin. Pinkamena: Isn't that revolting? All grease and gritty? It looks like it's molting! And tastes like...well, pity. A woman alone, with limited wind And the worst cupcakes in Sodor! Sweeny Tom had finished his ale, but didn't feel better. Pinkamena, meanwhile, had thrown the other cupcakes into the fire. She leaned on the table and looked forlornly at him. Pinkamena: Ah, sir times is hard. Times is hard. She noticed a beetle scuttling along. Without a change of expression, she picked up the rolling pin and BAM! Pinkamena: Times is hard. Then she noticed the empty mug. "It's going to take a lot more than ale to wash that down." She got up and motioned for Sweeny Tom to follow her. "Follow me and I'll give you some gin." > Sad news and "Reunion" > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pinkamena led Sweeny Tom over to the living room and pulled some gin out of the cabinet. As he drank, Sweeny Tom noticed a familiar flight of stairs. "What's up there?" "Nothing, but an empty room." "You should rent it out. It'd make the hard times easier" "Enope. When I bought this place, people warned me that it was haunted. You see, something happened up there. Something not very nice." She set him down in a chair and began her tale. Pinkamena: There was an engineer and his wife, and he was beautiful. Also an artist with a knife, but they transported him for life. And he was beautiful. "Thomas was his name." "What was his crime?" asked Sweeny Tom. "Crimes," corrected Pinkamena. "Oh alright. What were his crimes?" "Attempted murder, sabotage, and foolishness." "Figures," growled the vengeful barber. Worse was to follow. Pinkamena: He had this wife, you see. Pretty little thing. Silly little nit. Had her chance for the moon on a string. Poor thing! Poor thing! FLASHBACK We go back to Rosie, sitting in the very clean. She staring forlornly out the big window while cradling a baby girl with two toned sky blue hair. Pinkamena: There was this fuzz, you see... "HOLD IT!' interrupted Sweeny Tom. He looked confusedly at her. "Fuzz?" "It's what they'd call his kind in the 60s!" protested Pinkamena. "I've seen CHiPs." Sweeny Tom looked at her with a deepening , but she rambled on before he could ask anything. Pinkamena Wanted her like mad! Everyday he sent her a flower But she never came down from her tower. Stayed up there and sulked by the hour poor thing Poor thing! Rosie gets up and goes to a smaller window. Looking down, she sees Judge Hatt and Beadle Gordon, the latter holding up a bouqet of roses. She shakes her head and retreats to her seat, the baby beginning to wail. Pinkamena: Poor fool! But there worse yet to come Poor thing! One night, Judge Hatt leads her to his estate where a costume ball is being held. He takes her to the front door and shows her in. He doesn't follow, explaining he needs to get his costume, then leaves her. Pinkamena Well, Judge Hatt calls on her all polite Poor thing! Poor thing! Beadle, he tells her, all contright. He blames herself for her dreadful plight. (Rosie: He should.) She must come straight to their house tonight. Poor thing! Poor thing! Of course when she gets there... Poor dear! Poor thing! They're having this ball all in masks. There's no one there that she knows. Poor thing! She wonders, tormented and drinks. Poor thing! The Beadle's repented, she thinks. Poor thing! "Oh, where is the Beadle?" she asks... Inside, Rosie is wondering around the ballroom, stumbling as she holds aloft a glass of wine. Everyone there is all gowned up, sporting strange masks, and are all strangers to her. Lost, her face becomes sloshier and redder (?), her stumbling becomes more frequent, and her vision becomes blurrier. Pinkamena: He was there alright! Only not so contright! Standing some ways from Rosie's back is indeed Beadle Gordon, wearing one of his face masks. He walks over to her and takes it off, revealing a face that is not at all contright. Pinkamena: She wasn't no match for such craft, you see. And everyone thought it so drull. Rosie is now on a chair, attempting to rest after her tenth glass (You got to admire the tomboy in her, cuz man, can she hold her liqour.) Gordon comes up and descends on her like Dracula. She screams as he does "the R deed" on her, but the screams fall on deaf ears as the onlookers all laugh (it doesn't help that the majority are wearing face masks of the Troublesome Trucks). Pinkamena: They figured she had to be daft, you see. So they all stood there and laughed, you see. Poor soul! Poor thing! The screaming and laughing gets louder and louder until- "NO!" Sweeny Tom had lept to his feet in anger and threw his empty glass against the wall. "Did no one ever have mercy on her?" Pinkamena was caught off guard more than she let on, but she was still surprised by the man's outburst. "So you are Thomas?" "No! Not Thomas, that man is dead. It's Tom now-Sweeny Tom. And he will have his revenge." He had a savage look on his face that melted into a look of desperate curiosity. "What became of her?" PInkamena sighed, an idea forming in her mind. "It's my belief that no one helped because the judge told them that she was the spouse of a convict. After that night, she went to an apothecary and bought a bottle of arsenic. Then she went and poisoned herself." Poor Sweeny Tom. "What of my things?" Pinkamena led him up the staircase and into the upper room. It was dirty and covered with cobwebs. The floorboards were rotten and creaked under their steps. The windows were stained with dust. She pointed to a worn chair, the only furniture in the room, with an old case lying next to it. He opened it up to reveal a set of razor blades. "My!" exclaimed Pinkamena as he held one aloft. "They're chased silver, aren't they?" "Yes." agreed Sweeny Tom, "Silver." Sweeny Tom: These are my friends. See how they glisten. See this one shine, How he smiles in the light. My friends, My faithful friends... He unfolded the blade from the handle and studied his reflection. He stood up and examined it in the light; it was amazing how it and the rest managed to stay clean after all these years. Then he walked away from the window and held the razor close as if listening. Sweeny Tom: Speak to me, friend. Whisper, I'll listen. I know, I know You've been locked out of sight All these years! Likem, my friend! Well, I've come home to find you waiting! Home And we're together... And we'll do wonders... Won't we...? Pinkamena got up, watching him in amazement. Then, as if by magic, Sweeny Tom produced another razor out from up his sleeve. "Did he have that with him the entire time?" she murmured. The box appeared to be missing one blade yet he was holding two. Sweeny Tom: You there, my friend... It was then Pinkamena tried to...make advances with Sweeny Tom, such as stroking him, but the man too caught up with his razors. Pinkamena: I'm your friend too, Mr. Tom. Sweeny Tom: Come, let me hold you. Pinkamena: If only you knew, Mr. Tom. Sweeny Tom: And now, with a sigh, You grow- Pinkamena: Ooh, Mr. Tom, You're- Both: Warm in my hand. Sweeny Tom: My friend, Pinkamena: You've come home... Sweeny Tom: My clever friend... Pinkamena: Always had a fondness for you, I did. Sweeny Tom tucked away the second razor and knelt down by the chair while Pinkamena continued her...hints. Sweeny Tom: Rest now, my friends. Pinkamena: Never you fear, Mr. Tom. Sweeny Tom: Soon, I'll unfold you. Pinkamena: You can move in here, Mr. Tom. Sweeny Tom: Soon, you'll have- Both: Splendors you'll have never dreamed. All your days, Pinkamena: Will be yours! Sweeny Tom: My lucky friends. Pinkamena: I'm your friend, And your mine! Sweeny Tom: Till now your shine Pinkamena: Don't they shine beautiful? Sweeny Tom: Was merely silver. Pinkamena: Silver's good enough for me, Mr. T... Sweeny Tom: Friends, you shall drip rubies. You'll soon drip precious rubies... Sweeny Tom continued to study the blade, a wild look building in his eyes. "Leave me," he told her. Pinkamena obliged and smirked, knowing what kind of rubies he was referring to. He stood up and held aloft the razor, announcing: "At last, my arm is complete again!" > Love At First Sight (Oh Boy) > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- HATT ESTATE Skiff was sitting on a bench, studying a map. He was looking for Knapford Park, but being new on Sodor, had gotten lost. As luck would have it, he stumbled upon a drafty manor belonging to Judge Hatt and it just so happened that one occupant (aside from the Judge and the Beadle) was a young girl with two-toned sky blue hair. This was the same baby that had been raised by Thomas and Rosie before the incidents, only now she was 18 years old. Nowadays, she was locked away in the cursed place under Hatt's watchful eye because he considered her "dangerous" due to her being the offspring of a "criminal", her only true friends being birds in her room. Her name: Coco Pommel. How her singing carried outside to Skiff's ears when the window was closed is beyond me. It must've been the green finch on the outer will. Anyway, when he looked up and saw her, he could tell she was singing. Then she looked down and saw him watching. She smiled at him, blushing; he smiled back and waved. Her smiled slipped into a sad face and she hung her head. Skiff continued to gaze at her, transfixion turning into curiosity and a little concern. Skiff continued to stare. He wasn't all lost in thought as he acknowledged the screechings of a passing beggar woman. Beggar Woman: Alms! Alms! For a miserable woman. On a miserable chilly mornin'. Skiff was a kind soul and didn't think twice before giving her a five pence. "Thank ya sir, thank ya." "Tell me," inquired Skiff, "who lives in that house?" "That be the house of the great Judge Hatt that is." "And who is the young lady there?" The beggar woman let out raspy laughter. "That be Coco Pommel, his pretty lil' ward. Keeps her snug, he does. Now don't you go a trespassin'," she warned while waving a crooked finger at him, "or there'll be a whopping for ya as there were for many a young man that had mischief on his mind!" She cackled madly and went on her way, crooning: Beggar Woman: How would you like a lil' muff dear, A lil' jig jig, a lil' bounce around the bush Would you like to push me some parsley? It looks to me dear Like you got plenty there to push. Alms! Alms! For a desperate woman... Skiff paid her no mind and turned his attention back to the window. Coco was no longer visible, (she was on the bed) but he stuck around and continued to study the window as he yearned to help her. Skiff: I feel you, Ms. Pommel, I feel you. I was half convinced that I'd waken, Satisfied to dream of you. Happily I was mistaken, Ms. Pommel. I'll steal you, Ms. Pommel, I'll steal you. Skiff was so mesmerized that he jumped at the sound of the front door opening. Judge Hatt stood in the doorway. He stared at Skiff with sunken eyes, beckoning. "Come in lad, come in." The sailor looked behind him. Once he was sure he was the one being invited, he obliged. INSIDE He and Gordon led Skiff into the judge's chambers. It was filled with books, some of which were about law (or at least Hatt's point of view), others were sheltering bottles of wine (none of which was Crane Lake, phoo). Judge Hatt and Skiff sat down opposite of each other, the former offered some wine to the latter (he refused) who was watched menacingly by Gordon. "Looking for Knapford Park, were you?" asked the judge. "Yes," said Skiff a little nervously. Gordon was starting to creep him out. "Sodor is a big place." "Yes well, I have a few maps here." Judge Hatt got up and walked around his shelves. "As well as some books about the female criminals of history: Bonnie Parker, Ma Barker, Elizabeth Bathory. Master Beadle has a few about all the things you could dream of doing with a woman." As he said all this, his feigned kindness melted. When he finished, he looked at Skiff with a penetrating stare. Skiff looked confused. "I'm afraid I don't understand." "You gandered at my ward." Judge Hatt's anger increased 9 ways to Sunday. "Yes sir! Gandered at the spawn of criminal loins!" "I did not!" protested Skiff. "Even if I did what you claim, I'd no idea-" His qualm was interrupted by the Beadle who bonked him on the head. Skiff face planted on the table. Gordon yanked him up the hair and the sailor found himself extremely face to face with an angry judge who whispered, "Master Beadle will show you out. Don't come back again. She is off limits." He then nodded to Gordon. REAR EXIT The door swung open as Gordon dragged Skiff out by the neck and threw him out onto the stone ground. "The park is THAT way, young sir. A left and a right and straight on, see?" He noticed that Skiff was starting to get up. The brute produced a metal switch and struck down the poor lad until he was bleeding. He then rested the tip on the bruised head and hissed, "Just stick your nose around here again little man, and your brains will be all over the street." That said, he stormed back in. Skiff got up feeling dizzy and staggered away. Love can be an unusual confidante, however, as he looked back at the bleak house, he promised to return, no matter what those two said or did. Skiff: I'll steal you, Ms. Pommel, I'll steal you. Do they think walls can hide you? Even now, I'm at your window. I'm in the dark beside you, Buried sweetly in your two-toned hair! I feel you, Ms. Pommel, And one day, I'll steal you! Til I'm with you then, I'm with you there, Sweetly buried in your two-toned hair. He continued to stare, then went in his way. > Contest And An Old Foe > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- 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." > So Close! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pinkamena led Sweeny Tom down to the kitchen. Once he was seated, she presented him with a shot of ale. "Here," she said, "drink up." As he obliged, she watched with a look in her eye before asking, "Have you thought about it?" "Hm?" "About ol' headless up there. What shall we do with him?" Sweeny Tom downed his ale and answered, "I don't know. I wasn't quite expecting this to be honest." Pinkamena sighed. "Of course. Anyone who's SO concerned about the past, no matter how long ago, always forget their priorities. No room for fun, not like my fun. Oh what a wastie it is to be like Big Mac and kill off little cuties for their annoyance rather than do what I did years ago. Oh the shame of it. The shame of it. The sha-" The word struck a nerve and triggered something in her brain. "The shame of it." Her face when she said it...oh mother. "Shame?" Pinkamena: Seems a downright shame. Sweeny Tom: Shame? Pinkamena: An awful waste A plump, portly frame wot his name 'as... 'Ad... HAD! It need no tracing... Businesses need lifts, debts need erasing... Think of it as funny thrifts, As loving gifts, If ye catches my drifts! Nopie? What a waste... What with the meat as it is... As you get it... Sweeny Tom: HEH HAH! Pinkamena: Bye George, I think you've got it! Take my ol' cupcake place! Business no fun without acquaintances or toast! And a friend is best for eleven at most! They canna compare for taste! Sweeny Tom: Ms. P.D.P., what a charming motion! Pinkamena: Well, it does seem a waste... Sweeny Tom: Seems practical, but appropriate as always! Pinkamena: It's an idea... Sweeny Tom got up from his seat and pulled Pinkamena into a dance. Sweeny Tom: Oh Pinkamena how I've lived without you I'll never know! It's delectable! It's undetectable! Pinkamena: Think of it! Soon, loads of others will be coming for shaves! Think of 'em as cupcakes! Sweeny Tom: How choice! How rare! They stopped their waltz and went to the window. Sweeny Tom: Oh what, oh what is that sound out there? Pinkamena: What Mr. Tom? What Mr. Tom? What is that sound? Sweeny Tom: Those are crunches pervading the air! Pinkamena: Yes Mr. Tom! Yes Mr. Tom! It's all around! Sweeny Tom: It's man devouring man, my dear! Both: And who are we to deny it in here? "These are desperate times, Miss Pie, which means desperate measures." Pinkamena pulled some cupcakes out of the oven and selected one with the colors of the rainbow. "Here we are! Fresh out of the oven!" "What is this?" Pinkamena: Fact'ry Dash! Have a little Dash! Sweeny Tom: Is it good? Pinkamena: Sir, it's so good, it'll be gone in a flash! It came from Cloudsdale up high It is to do or die! Sweeny Tom took a bite and thought it was heavenly. "Good for business too," agreed Pinkamena. Problem is, we's only gettin' it once a week. She selected a scarlet one. Jamsey's rather nice. Sweeny Tom: If he's for a price. Pinkamena: Should order something else though since no one swallows him twice. Sweeny Tom: Maybe something lean? She selected a rustic green one with a hint of yellow. Pinkamena: If you're loyal, here's Porter of the Sodor Marine Outwardly he's clean. But inside is of whe're's he been. Sweeny Tom: Is that Celestia, for the test-ia? Pinkamena: No sir! Look closer And you shall see It's Henry! Sweeny Tom examined it closely and looked appalled. "Is that vicar?" Pinkamena: No sir, it has to be Henry It's green. Sweeny Tom: Whew! The history of the world my dear saves- Pinkamena: A lot of graves. Do a lot of relatives favors! Sweeny Tom: Are those beneath serving those from up above!* Pinkamena: Lots of people shave Ergo lots of flavors! Sweeny Tom: Ooh, how'll they know as the treats pass the teeth Both: That those up above will be served by those from beneath. Pinkamena brought out another trayful. "Now let's see. We've got..." She held up a cupcake with a moon and wand. Tinker. Sweeny Tom: Pinker. She selected a pink one with three buttons. Pinkamena: Tailor? Sweeny Tom: Paler. She selected a pale red one with a gold stripe. Pinkamena: Butler? Sweeny Tom: Subtler. She selected a dark blue one with SCC initials. Potter? "That's ironic," muttered Sweeny Tom. Hotter. She selected a cerulean one. Locksmith? (Then a wood yellow one.) Lovely bit of clerk. Sweeny Tom: Maybe for a lark. She pulled out a purple one topped with green. And here's Spike the Sweep. You'll love him dark and cheap. Then she selected a dark red with half an apple. You'll love Big Mac the "massaceer" At the pique of his career. Sweeny Tom: He smells pretty dank. Pinkamena: That's because he stank. Sweeny Tom: WAIT A MINUTE! "Didn't we just see Big Mac at the contest?" "Yes we did!" "But then how...?" "He's in a dual role. There was a budget problem." "Oh." We'll, have you any Beadle? Pinkamena: In a week or so I am told. Anyway, he isn't bad till ya smell him. He's so greased. Stick to the preist! DING! Pinkamena felt something strike her chin with such force that she fell to the floor. Sweeny Tom picked her up the neck of her dress and hissed, "If it weren't for a preist, we wouldn't be having this conversation." He released her; she massaged her face before selecting a hippy styled one. "Here we have fiddle player." Sweeny Tom: No it's piccolo player. It's piping hot. Pinkamena: Then blow on it silly. It helps to do that first. Sweeny Tom: The history of the world my sweet- Pinkamena: Oh Mr. Tom? Oh Mr. Tom? What does it tell? Sweeny Tom: Is who gets eaten and who gets to eat! Pinkamena: And Mr. Tom And Mr. Tom Is also who does the sale! Sweeny Tom: Fortunately my dear It's very clear! Both: Ev'ryone goes down good with a shot of ale! "Since Marine didn't appeal to you," said Pinkamena, "how's abouts..." she selected a mahogony one "...Rear admiral? Although I don't think Skiff was made of mahogany..." Sweeny Tom: Too salty, I prefer general. Pinkamena: With or without the privates? They're extra. "You don't mean...Those kin-" DING! Now it was his turn to get an uppercut. Pinkamena loomed over him looking livid. "What kind of parody do ya think we're doing?!? South Park edition?" She helped him up, though and they continued, albeit a little shaken. Sweeny Tom noticed a dark brown cupcake with an upside-down horshoe. Sweeny Tom: What's that? Pinkamena: Tis fop! Finest in the shop. She showed him a light yellow one with pink butterflies. We also have shepherds pie pepperd With actual shepherd On top! Then she whipped out a pure black one. The fun has just begun. Here's politician-very oily. Served with a doiley. Have one! Sweeny Tom: I'll take it with a bun You'll never know when it'll run. She slid over a fiery yellow and orange one with a flame. Try Spitfire. Fired she's direr. Sweeny Tom: No, Wonderbolt is too coarse and too mealy. Next was a cupcake with all sorts of colors.° Pinkamena: Here's actor, That's compactor! Sweeny Tom: It also arrives overdone. I'll come again When you have Judge on the menu. Pinkamena: WAIT! We don't have him yet, But we have something you'd fancy more, I'd bet. Sweeny Tom: What's that? She pulled out a black cupcake topped with red, each side tinged with white and grey. "EXECUTIONER!" "Who was the executioner?" "Tirek."^ Then they did another waltz. Sweeny Tom: Have charity towards the world, my pet! Pinkamena: Yes, yes I know my love! Sweeny Tom: We takes all the customers we can get! Pinkamena: High-born and low, my love! Sweeny Tom: Let us not discriminate great from small. Pinkamena: No, we'll serve anyone, Meaning anyone, Both: And to anyone at all! SODOR CITY HALL-END OF THE WEEK "... You are to hang by the neck until dead. May Awdry have mercy on your soul." And the judge banged his gavel hard. Poor Philip hung his head as Zip and Zug escorted him off the dock, trying not to look remorseful. Gordon eyed the lad maliciously before following his master. "Good show, m'lud," remarked Gordon. "That was spot on!" "Indeed," agreed Judge Hatt, "But I wonder...did he really deserve that?" Gordon snorted. "Please, m'lud. The boy was guilty of overly wrecklessness." "If you say so." As they traveled along, Gordon noticed little tiny hairs growing on the judge's face. "Pardon me, m'lud, but...you're face." "What about it, Beadle?" "Well, look at it in your reflection there." Judge Hatt obliged and studied his reflection in the window of Sparkler and Amethyst's Jewels. He pondered this awhile, sat back and scratched his scalp, and said, "I suppose I could do with a shave." "Worry not, m'lud, I have just witnessed a barber give the smoothest shave on the island. He could do it in a flash as well." "Yes...I shall. And what will you be doing whilst I have my face cleaned?" "I shall be persuing a very personal subject: the hand of your ward." "Bravo! I'd do it myself, if I were a few years younger, and of course, not a widower." "Strange though, when I offered myself, to her, I felt a little...reluctance." "Very strange indeed. This barber should have some aftershave. He should, then he'd have you smelling like springtime." "Splendid idea. Welp, let me show you the way." TIDMOUTH-BARBER SHOP "Where is he?" The barber was pacing in the upper room. Every so often, he'd glance out the window, then studied his razor agitatedly. "Be patient," said Pinkamena, "or you're going to make the hole in the floor even longer and deeper in the floor." "Huh?" He looked down and saw that there was indeed a literal hole in the floor. "It's just that it's the end of the week." "So?" "SO IT'S THE END OF THE WEEK!!! WHERE IS THAT BEADLE?!? The force of his voice sent her flying into the window where she twitched, followed by a gurgly stomach and frizzy hair. "Pinkie Sense!" "Wha?" She looked out. "It's the Beadle and he's not alone...he's brought the judge!" "Double wha?!?" He joined her at the window and looked out; sure enough, there they were. Gordon showed the judge to the front with his walking stick then walked away. "Show him in and keep out of sight." Pinkamena obligingly led Judge Hatt to the room then hid down below in the kitchen where she put on a record (that played "Pretty Women"). "Well, if it isn't the great Judge Hatt" "And how, pray tell, do you know of me?" "Who in the world doesn't?" "True. Well, this isn't Sweeny Tom: What can I do you for sir? I can't do the growing of hair, But I can do the scalp massage. Sit, sir, sit. Judge Hatt: Well sir, my man's infatuated with love An ardent and eager slave So fetch the pomade and pumade stone And give me a more loving tone And perhaps some sprinkling of Prench cologne But first, sir, I think A shave. Sweeny Tom: The smoothest I ever gave. Judge Hatt sat down in the chair while the barber placed a long towel over him. Then Sweeny Tom prepared for the shave, whistling along to the record. This lulled the judge so that he dozed off in the chair. The barber noticed this and the hand that held his razor Merry twitched violently. Sweeny Tom: Patience, my friend. You'll enjoy your purpose. Don't be hasty, Mr. Merry Revenge has all the time in the world. Just as he was about to do the deed, the judge shook and was awake in an instant. Judge Hatt: Make haste sir. When they are wed, You'll be commended, sir. Sweeny Tom: My lord. And who sir is the your man's intended? Judge Hatt: My ward that's pretty as a rosebud. "Like her mother," whispered Sweeny Tom. "What?" "Nothing. Almost done, then we may proceed." Sweeny Tom resumed making the cream, humming cheerfully. Judge Hatt: You're in a merry mood today, Mr. Tom Sweeny Tom: Tis your delight sir, catching fire From one man to another Judge Hatt: Too true, sir, love can make will inspire The blood to pound and heart leap higher What more- Sweeny Tom: What more- Both: Can man acquire Judge Hatt: Than love sir? Sweeny Tom: Oh, more than love, sir. Judge Hatt: What sir? Sweeny Tom: Females. Judge Hatt: Ah yes. Females. Here, the barber had finished and lathered the judge's face, the former whistling while the judge hummed. Then Sweeny Tom reached for his razor and moved as if to slash the Hatt's throat. But he controlled himself and went about the shaving. Sweeny Tom: Pretty females Fascinating. Sipping cider. Pretty females Waltzing. Pretty females Are a wonder. Pretty females Leaning by a window, Or - standing on a stair. Something in them cheeses the air. Ah, pretty females. Judge Hatt: Silhouetted. Sweeny Tom: Stay beside you. Judge Hatt: Galtzing The record scratched. "That's not a word." remarked Sweeny Tom. "No, but it's the only word fro glancing that I could think that rhymes with waltzing," snarked Hatt. "Made from glancing and the synonym glimmering, nice." murmured Pinkamena, and she resumed the record. Sweeny Tom: Stay forever. Judge Hatt: Gasping lightly. Sweeny Tom: Pretty females. Both: Pretty females. Sweeny Tom: Blowing out (Judge Hatt: Blowing out) Both: Their candles. Sweeny Tom: Combing out (Judge Hatt: Combing out) Both: Their hair. Judge Hatt: Then they leave... Sweeny Tom: When they leave... Judge Hatt: Even when they disappear They somehow remain inside you There with you Sweeny Tom: They are still there. They're all here. Both: Ah, pretty females. Sweeny Tom: holding mirrors. Judge Hatt: In their gardens. Sweeny Tom: Letter writing. Judge Hatt: Rose picking. Sweeny Tom: Star gazing. Both: They can make a man sing Proof from Heaven. As you're living. Pretty females, sir! Pretty females, yes! Pretty females, sir! The record was skipping, but neither of them noticed. Sweeny Tom: Pretty females All the females Pretty females! He made to do one final stroke, the last stroke Judge Hatt would ever have for good, when... "Mr. Tom! Mr. Tom! We've done it! We've-" That was Skiff's voice. The door swung open and the young sailor burst in, his joy fading when he recognized the customer. "You..." The judge glowered at him. Then he picked up his coat and stormed out, making sure to give Skiff a blow to the stomach. The lad keeled over, clutching his stomach. He looked up to see the barber, equally angry. "Get out..." he growled. Skiff staggered out. Moments later, Pinkamena appeared. "What the bloody cupcakes happened? First I see the sailor go up the stairs, then I see the judge come down looking like he's going to yell at someone to get off his platform, then I see the sailor skedaddling by like he saw a skeleton engine-" "I had him..." growled Sweeny Tom. MEANWHILE The Beadle was eyeing said "ward" as she gazed out the window with a smile on her face.