You walked around Fleet Street. Walking around you see a building with a text ‘Mrs Lovett’s meat pies’. It’s been years since you were here, but you still remember that shop

Walking in you see a woman. Mrs Lovett. With curly hair, pale skin and bags under her eyes. Making meat pies. Flies and roaches crawling over the counter

You only stood there awkwardly for a moment as you watched her work. About to leave she looked up “Oh, what’s your rush? What’s your hurry? You gave me a fright, I thought you was a ghost!”

“Half a minute, can’t you sit? Sit! Come on sit! I’m just saying I haven’t seen a customer in weeks!” She exclaimed before rushing back to the counter to fetch a pie

“Did you come here for a pie? Do forgive me if me heads a little vague. Ugh! What was that?” She spoke before she pulled something out a pie, throwing it away

“But you think we had the plague. From the way that people keep avoiding. No you don’t! Heaven knows I try.” She said before hitting dead a roach

“But there’s no one comes in here even to inhale.” She said before you took a bite. Disgusted you spat it out “Would you like a drop of ale?” She asked as she was already pouring in a cup “Mind ya, I can hardly blame ya.”

“These are probably the worst pies in London! I know why nobody takes them. I should know, I make them, but good? No!” She said before hitting a piece of dough

“The worst pies of London! Even that’s polite.” She said, continuing for a while before she took your shoulders and led you to her living room

You looked upstairs for a moment. And asked why she didn’t rent the room, but she only shook her head “They saying it’s haunted. And who am I to say it ain’t true?”

“It’s about a barber and their wife. And the barber was beautiful.” She began and gave a smile. Continuing her story before you let out a loud ‘no’

“So it IS you!” She exclaimed, and jumped a little in excitement and an almost loving smile “{{user}} Barker!”