Mrs. Lovett sat at the counter, waiting for the customers to pour in like they normally did. But today was a dreary day, and no one was out and about in the rainy gloom today. She started to clean up the mess of flour and dough that was masking the counter.
"Toby, why not go ahead an' flip the sign to closed. Don't look like to many are comin' today," she yelled to her son.
"Yes mum." Toby followed the orders, like he always did. He would do anything for his beloved mum.
Just as Toby was about to switch the sign to closed, a man walked into the shop, soaking wet from the rain. Mrs. Lovett looked up at the customer and asked the usual, "Would you like a pie, sir?" "No, I am here to deliver a telegram," answered the drenched man.
A telegram?! Well bless my 'eart, I haven't gotten one of those for years. I wonder...
"Well, on with it then. I was just 'bout to close up shop, and your getting my nice clean floors all wet."
The man looked down to the floors, he was indeed creating quite the puddle, but the floors were not at all clean. He shrugged and read the telegram:
"Roses are Red,
Violets are Blue,
Your pies are sweet,
But not as much as you..."
"There is no signature, just the message. If you would kindly pay me and I will be on my merry way..." he started to say, but was interrupted by the high pitched voice of Mrs. Lovett.
"I will not be paying you for this telegram, as I can clearly tell it was not for me." Mrs. Lovett stated matter-of-factly.
"But this is Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium, is it not? And you are Mrs. Nellie Lovett, are you not?"
"Yes, this is, and yes I am. Fine, how about one of my fine pies as payment?" she offered, giving up on the argument.
"That will be very well then." the man said, satisfied enough. He took a pie and was out the door in an awful hurry.
"Now then, I wonder who the devil sent this telegram..." Mrs. Lovett thought out loud. Her hopes were too high when she thought of the only person she would want it to be from, Mr. Todd. She shook that thought out of her head. Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Todd barely even notices my company, he would definately not bother sending me a telegram like this... but who? Surely not Toby, he has no money for the telegram, and he knows that I know how fond of me he is.
Sweeney stood, staring out of the same old window he looked out everyday, but today he was looking, no, not looking, waiting. Waiting for the man to enter the shop below, for his plan to begin.
Being bored, hiding away in his shop he had developed a plan, more like a prank, to stimulate his boredom.
Ahh, here he is now, a little late but oh well... now the fun part.
Sweeney positioned himself on the floor, ear pressed against the crack in the floor boards, he could hear the conversation perfectly from here. Not like he did it often, but it was a handy thing to know.
"Well, on with it then. I was just 'bout to close up shop, and your getting my nice clean floors all wet." he heard her say. Clean floors, haha. And I'm an almighty saint.
"... who the devil sent this telegram..."
Sweeney could tell now that Mrs. Lovett would be thinking about it all night and day for the next week. He wouldn't be suprised if she brought it up to him.
Mr. Todd slowly and casually walked down the steps and into Mrs. Lovett's shop.
"Fine day out, isn't it? Nice weather for reading by the fire." Mrs. Lovett said cheerfully. She always thought the best about things, even the dreary weather. Sweeney admired that trait, even as much as it annoyed him most of the time.
"Well, it certainly does fit the gloom of London," Sweeney mumbled in response.
A response from Mr. T? Well, wot is going on today? I will surely find out!
Mrs. Lovett stared at Sweeney from behind her counter where she was still tidying up. He looks more, alive today. There is something in his eyes, I just can't put my finger on it... Aha! He is up to something.
"Wot have you been up to in that shop of yours Mr. T? 'aven't heard your normal pacing about. Something wrong?" Mrs. Lovett was good at getting information out of people, and to assist her in her questioning, she got out a new bottle of gin and set it on the counter. Retreiving two glasses, she looked up and noticed Mr. Todd watching her.
She really is a bloody wonder, thinking she can get me to drink up a bit to get answers out of me. Brilliant, if only I didn't know her plans.
"Only got one customer today? I didn't hear much of a bustle as usual."
"No customers, just recieved a silly lil' telegram, thats all. The rain must be keeping everyone in today, and I don't blame them," Mrs. Lovett stated.
"Ahh, a telegram. What did it say? Don't get much of those nowadays."
A pale blush crept upon Mrs. Lovett's face, she tried to hide it by stomping on some roaches on the floor. Amazing what a little color can bring to her face... how many times she has blushed before and I just notice this now... Mr. Todd's thoughts broke when he noticed Mrs. Lovett waving a hand in his face, trying to get his attention.
"You all right? Can you 'ear me?" Lovett yelled, frantically waving a hand infront of Mr. Todd's eyes.
"Yes, yes, all right pet. So what about the telegram?" he said, looking at her with a curious look.
"It was really rather silly, I don't think they got the right Mrs. Lovett. You see, it said something like, roses are red, violets are blue, your pies are sweet, but not as much as you. Really is a sad attempt at poetry," she started.
Sad attempt at poetry, huh. It is such a shame she will never know who sent that telegram...haha. If she knew it was me, I wonder if it would still be a bad poem...
Again Sweeney found himself being yelled at, forced out of his thoughts. He looked up at Mrs. Lovett smiling, not the crazy mad smile he had when tending to his customers, but a real smile.
"Wot are you smiling at, Mr T?" Mrs. Lovett asked completely confused.
"Nothing, love. Just admiring the weather"