Mr. Berge’s Haircut
After much deliberation, Berge decided to have his hair cut. What would happen if his hair hurt when it was cut? What would happen if the stylist accidentally cut off his ear? What would happen if she cut all his longer hair off, and it never grew back? What if everyone thought he was bald? These fears had to be pushed aside, and Berge finally decided he would get his hair cut. The day of the hair cut arrived. Berge walked up to the Cost Cutters window, and peered inside. He noticed the sharp scissors gleaming menacingly in the fluorescent light, the limp, severed hair littering the floor, and the evil hair-choppers smiling expectantly in his direction. He slowly opened the glass door, and was greeted by the hair-murderers’ assistant. She asked for his name and address. He replied, “My name is John Betof.” Giving his real name might enable them to track him down for more hair sacrifices later, so he didn’t. Someone named Judy came over to where he sat in the lobby. She took him by the hand and dragged him to the hair execution chair, and placed a ceremonial sacrificial sheet over his body to keep the mini corpses from touching his skin. By this time, Berge was shaking so badly that the black nylon sheet covering him shimmered, reflecting the white fluorescent light into his eyes. The hair killer pulled her knife-edged scissors from a bucket filled with what only could have been the blue blood of dying hair, smiled triumphantly, pulled up only one helpless hair, and cut it in half. “That will be 10.95,” she said. Berge had finally gotten his hair