This morning when I woke up I found I have a new-look Mr. FPS. At 2.00a.m he decided it was time for the showdown with his receding hair and got out the hair-clippers. The front quiff-type bit is gone (no. 1 setting) and the rest is just visible (no.2 setting.)
He floated the idea past me a few weeks ago, and I was firmly of the belief It Was Not Yet Time, and anyway, all such actions should be carried out by professionals.
He now looks like he has just been released from a particularly tough prison. I keep starting when I catch sight of him.
You are an evil person, icelus.
I am going away to think about how best to respond to this fabulous coup de grace. I'm worried I may not be able to come up with anything.
As yet unable to come up with a zingy retort. All possible replies are either pompous or pathetic. If only I was more like Andyr, and could pack a wealth of meaning into a phrase like "heheh." Being wordy is such a handicap sometimes.
Mr. FPS has already decided he was way to quick with the shears, and resolves never to do it again. He's decided it makes him look old.
I am now sworn to secrecy about the whole thing.
"You haven't told anyone, have you?" he asked me suspiciously. (he knows I love to tell a good story.)
"No, I haven't." I answered virtuously. I'm not counting Namc'ing the subject.
I'm thinking about taking a photo and keeping it with the clippers, in case the urge ever takes him again.
