October 21, 2020. (Guest Submission: Jon Elliott)

“I put my hair on the nightstand and told my stupendously dumb son “Now sonny, don’t take you’re ol’ pa’s hair. He needs that for work.” He then nods his head in acknowledgment before running face-first into a mirror because like father, like son. As I awoke to a pool of blood that my stupendously dumb son left on my bedroom floor like an IDIOT, I discovered that my hair wasn’t there. “Gadzooks! Suffering Scooby snacks! What the heck happened to my hair?!” I exclaimed. I looked around the house and the trail of blood as well as pieces of my hair led to the garage. His unicycle was gone but he left a typed note in some bullshit font, it’s... hard to decipher... is that Papyrus?.. or is that Brush Script? Oh god. It’s HORRIBLE. I feel even more dead inside. The note reads “Took Furby to dog park”
I lost my hair... to time. Never to be seen again. Now I’m going to lose my job as a successful vacuum salesmen all because of my beautiful hair! At least I can get by on my hairy arms and buttoned up shirt!”