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Post by Cuyler Hudd Zeeby on May 25, 2008 18:32:04 GMT -5
Mozzy crept up the stairs into the salon. It was his favourite salon. The people there were so kindly and always told him to come back any time. He loved it when people loved him. Who didn't. The unfortunate bit was the truth behind their smiles. They all despised the poor boy. Innocent, child-like Mozzy, was actually hated by many. But his happy-go-lucky nature prevented him from seeing the truth behind things. In fact, he was just simply, a dunce.
Opening the door Cuyler stepped inside the salon, a bright smile plastered on his face. "Hello Joyce!" he sang, waving his hand to the lady at the counter, "I'm here for my appointment!" he walked up to the counter, after closing the door behind him. Smiling he placed his hands on the counter top.
"So you're dying you're beautiful locks of hair again Cuyler?" she asked him, looking up from her papers. "Yes of course I am Joyce! I was thinking I'd like to go red this time. But not like a red red...like...cherry red. More of an orange red, ya know what I mean?" Joyce nodded, getting up from her chair she walked over to the sinks, "Alright Cuyler, have a seat now. I'll just give your hair a good washing first."
Cuyler walked over to her and plunked himself down in a chair, leaning back so his head was in the sink. He was so excited. He got his hair dyed all the time. But every time it just became more and more exciting! He loved going to the salon.
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Post by Cuyler Hudd Zeeby on Jul 18, 2008 23:00:25 GMT -5
Now him getting his hair going to the salon all the time didn't actually mean he ever got anything done. He usually just got his hair washed, then when he was plunked down in the chair he would freak and run out the door. He didn't like change. Change to his hair. The times he'd dyed his hair it was the cheap self-dye stuff that washed out in a few days. Alex and Camillo were right. As usual. If he dyed his hair, he just wouldn't be the same. He wouldn't be mozzy.
If he went red, he'd be carrot.
If he went brown..he'd be poo-head.
If he went blue...he would be blueberry.
The list went on forEVER!
He looked up a joyce who was getting out some shiny, sharp scissors. His blue eyes eyed them up, then trailed over to the person holding them. He most likely looked utterly frightened.
"Alright, Cuyler, You can run off now if ya like." She said with a sigh. She'd been saying this lately, getting used to him running off. This was probably the reason why she didn't particularily enjoy his visits there. He was a waist of her time and money.
"Thanks Joyce," he said, with a genuine smile, "Call me Mozzy though, please." he stoof up, smiling still, gave the lady a soft pat on the shoulder and left the building. He would probably never return to it again. There was no need. He had his priorities straight now. His hair was white, like cheese!
Mozzarelle cheese.
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