HE LOST ALL HIS HAIR IN A TRAGIC AFFAIR, WHERE FIRE MET SCALP, SCALP MET A YELP, AND FOLLICLES MET THEIR DEMISE. SO IT SHOULD BE NO SURPRISE THAT THIS NOT-SO-WISE GUY WOULD SEEK A REVISED DISGUISE.
PLOPPED A MOP ON HIS TOP, A RACCOON ON HIS ROCK, AND A SPOOL OF WOOL ON HIS NOODLE. BUT TO NO AVAIL, HE KNEW HE HAD FAILED WHEN OTHERS LOOKED DOWN ON HIM STALE.
BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD, HE LOOKED TOWARD THE LORD FOR AN ANSWER OR SOMETHING MORE SURE. AFTER HOURS OF THINKING, HIS MIND GOT TO INKLING, EYES LIT UP TWINKLING, AND BROW BEGAN CRINKLING—FOR INSPIRATION HAD STRUCK. TO HAVE HAIR AT ALL, ONE MUST FIND A HAIRBALL, MARRY IT, AND THEN FUCK.
SO THEY DID.
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