Author's Note: The inspiration of this story came from playing Scarborough Fair on the Magic Piano app. In this FanFiction, Salad Fingers' name will be shortened to SF. Text in Italics shows when SF is voicing other characters. I DO NOT own Salad Fingers. David Firth is the original creator.

Yet again, Roger had terrified SF with the distorted screeches and demonic sounding voices from an unpleasant broadcast he had just tuned into. It was a shame that he couldn't listen to more of the Great War. SF quickly made his way to the Safety Cupboard along with Marjory Stewart-Baxter.

Hubert Cumberdale and Jeremy Fisher were fast asleep in bed at this time so SF decided to leave them to catch their beauty sleep. Hopefully, they should wake up just in time for Croxley at Breakfast.

SF remembered that he forgot to add more sustenance to Roger earlier that day, but he chose to shrug it off. He hadn't spoken to Marjory for a while so he chose this time to start a conversation.

"So, Marjory, h-h-how have you been lately?"

Silence filled the claustrophobic space of the Safety Cupboard, only Roger's muffled devilish screams can be heard from the other side of the sliding door.

"I-I-I am feeling grand today." Marjory replied.

"Shall we see how Penny Pigtails is doing?"

Silence was SF's answer again.

He walked his hand along the small ledge, pretending to be Penny Pigtails singing merrily down the path.

"Are you off to the market again, P-P-Penny Pigtails?"

"Yes, I'm going to go buy a nice blackberry crumble."

"Bog off, you little mare!" said the market trader. "And take those cotton legs of yours with you!"

Immediately after the market trader insulted Miss Pigtails for the second time, SF broke down in tears as if the abuse was directed at him, maybe feeling sorry for the innocent young lady in his mind. Marjory lay on the ground, forgotten. If she wasn't a finger puppet, she would have comforted SF and wiped his tears away. If she spoke to him with sympathetic words, he would become scared of her just like his encounter with Mable when she spoke about the crow stealing his spoon.

After a solid ten minutes of weeping, Roger suddenly fell silent. SF gasped at the surprise.

"I-I-I think Roger has finally ended that broadcast for good." he assumed.

But what he didn't know was that someone had let themselves into his home...