//-------------------------------------------------------// Sweeney Trot: The Demon Barber OF Cake Street -by Platnium- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// The Beginning //-------------------------------------------------------// The Beginning The boat sailed along the river towards the distant docks. A melodic voice sang with sadness and power. It was deep and sounded as if you had been walking on pebbles. In truth it was grainy, but power behind told stories as the voice sang in it's thickness. I have sailed the world Beheld its wonders From the Dardanelles To the mountains of Peru But there's no place like Hoofington No, there's no place like Hoofington "Mr. Trot?" said a voice off to the side. Mr. Todd, as the stallion was called, turned to the side and looked at the younger stallion. You are young Life has been kind to you You will learn 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 Hoofington At the top of the hole sit a privileged few Making mock of the vermin in the lower 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 Hoofington "Is everything all right, Mr. Trot?" The handsome white and brown stallion questioned, his brown hair was strewn in the wind. "I beg your indulgence, Pip. My mind is far from easy." Mr. Trot said with nothing in his voice, though at the same time it was full of melancholy. The ship docked and the pair set out.      After passing the flood walls the two continued their conversation. "In these once familiar streets,I feel shadows everywhere." Trot said blandly. "Shadows?" Pip questioned, perhaps a little to eagerly. "Ghosts." Trot said back as if in a daze. His voice once more began to fill the space around him. There was a barber and his wife And she was beautiful A foolish barber and his wife She was his reason and his life And she was beautiful And she was virtuous And he was naive There was another man who saw that she was beautiful A pious vulture of the law Who, with a gesture of his claw Removed the barber from his plate Then there was nothing but to wait And she would fall So soft, so young so lost and, oh, so beautiful "And the lady, sir, did she succumb?" Pip asked. "Oh, that was many years ago. I doubt if anyone would know." He said quietly. Suddenly he turned to Pip. "I'd like to thank you, Pip." Trot said. "If you hadn't spotted me,I'd be lost on the ocean still." "Will I see you again?" You might find me if you like. Around Cake Street, I wouldn't wonder." "Until then, my friend." Pip said. He turned and trotted off. Trot stayed there. He looked back to the docks and to the busy city in front of him. His anger began to build. He quickly turn towards the inner city, and walking briskly he whispered to himself venomously. There's a hole in the world like a great black pit And it's filled with people who are filled with shit And the vermin of the world inhabit it He looked at was once his home. Walking in he sighed. A lively mare was running this way and that. She turned towards him and gasped. "A customer!" Wait! What's your rush? What's your hurry? You gave me such a fright I thought you was a ghost! Half a minute, can't you sit? Sit you down. Sit! All I meant is that I haven't seen a customer for weeks! Did you come here for a pie, sir? Do forgive me if me head's a little vague "What was that?" she questioned stomping on the ground. But you'd think we had the plague! From the way that people keep avoiding No, you don't. Heaven knows I try, sir! But there's no one comes in even to inhale Right you are, sir would you like a drop of ale? Mind you, I can hardly blame them These are probably the worst pies in Equestria I know why nobody cares to take them I should know, I make them But good? No! The worst pies in Equestria Even that's polite The worst pies in Equestria If you doubt it, take a bite He took a bite of the pie and had to hold himself so that he didn't throw up. He began to spit pieces as she turned and continued singing. Is that just disgusting? You have to concede it It's nothing but crusting Here, drink this, you'll need it The worst pies in Equestria! And no wonder with the price of meat what it is When you get it Never thought I'd live to see the day Men'd think it was a treat Finding poor animals What are dying in the street Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop Does her business but I noticed something weird Lately all her neighbors' cats have disappeared Have to hand it to her What I calls enterprise Popping pussies into pies Wouldn't do in my shop Just the thought of it's enough to make you sick And I'm telling you them pussycats is quick No denying times is hard, sir! Even harder than the worst pies in Equestria Only lard and nothing more Is that just revolting All greasy and gritty It looks like it's molting And tastes like Well, pity A woman alone! With limited wind And the worst pies in Equestria! Sir Times is hard Times is hard "Trust me, dearie, it's gonna take a lot more than ale to wash that taste out. Come with me. We'll get you a nice tumbler of gin, eh?" She walked into a side room and sat down. She patted the seat next to her to signal him to sit. "Isn't this homey, now? The cheery wallpaper was a real bargain, too. It was only partly singed when the chapel burned down. There you go. You sit down, warm your bones." "You've a room over the shop here?" He questioned. "Times is so hard, why don't you rent it out?" "What, up there? No, I won't go near it." she said, eye's full of mystery. People think it's haunted." " Haunted?" "Yeah. And who's to say they're wrong? You see, years ago, something happened up there. Something not very nice." She began to sing in a grim voice. There was a barber and his wife And he was beautiful A proper artist with a knife But they transported him for life And he was beautiful "Baker, his name was. Benjamin Baker." She said grimly. "What was his crime?" He asked soullessly. "Foolishness."She began to sing again in a somewhat cheery tune. 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 There was this judge, you see Wanted her like mad Every day he sent her a flower But did she come down from her tower? Sat up there and sobbed by the hour Poor fool But there was worse yet to come poor thing Well, Beadle calls on her all polite Poor thing Poor thing The Judge, he tells her is all contrite He blames himself for her dreadful plight She must come straight to his house tonight Poor thing, poor thing Of course, when she goes there Poor thing, poor thing They're having this ball all in masks There's no one she knows there Poor dear, poor thing She wanders tormented and drinks Poor thing The Judge has repented, she thinks Poor thing "Oh, where is Judge Turpin?" She asks He was there all right Only not so contrite She wasn't no match for such craft you see And everyone thought it so droll They figured she had to be daft you see So all of them stood there and laughed you see Poor soul Poor thing... "No!! Would no one have mercy on her?" Trot shouted. "So, it is you, Benjamin Baker?" "Where is Lucy? Where is my wife?" He asked distressed.   "She poisoned herself. Arsenic, from the apothecary around the corner. Tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen to me. And he's got your daughter." She looked at him. "He?" "Judge Turpin. Adopted her. Like his own. Fifteen years." "I've sweated in a living hell on a false charge. Fifteen years dreaming I might come home to a wife and child." He nearly was sobbing now. "Well, I can't say the years have been particularly kind to you, Mr. Baker." "No. Not Baker. That man is dead. It's Trot now. Sweeney Trot. And he will have his revenge."