I walk into a bar and three guys are freaking out. One of them is holding what looks like a stringy cat toy in his hands. A seat away from these three was a
guy who’d obviously had more than his share of fun. He was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed.
I went to the end of the bar and ordered. I couldn’t help but hear what the three guys were talking about. I looked over to the sleeping guy and, damn, if they didn’t cut off that guys tightly wrapped rat tailed beard.
From their talk when he awoke from his slumber he would be none too happy with the situation. They were starting to blame each other when, honestly, they
were in it together.
I half hoped the guy would wake up and slaughter them all for being whiny. You did the prank, suck it up and take the consequences. But I also don’t feel like being a witness for a triple homicide. That can tie up a whole day in court. Figuring the guy was a doofus, just like his friends. I decided to help them out.
“Hey,” they spin their heads I’m sure thinking the guy had woken. When they see it’s just me they calm a little. “Is he a prankster like you guys?” They
slowly grumble that he is. “Is he prone to make rash decisions like you guys?” Once again they grumble affirmatively. “But he’ll still kill you if he found out you did this, right?” No grumbling there. “Then I have a plan. Do you know if he’s left or right handed?” There was a few moments of debate, guys being so attentive, but they come to the conclusion that he’s right handed. “Good. Put the scissors in his right and hair in his left. When he wakes up your story is you tried to stop him but he cut off his own beard in a drunken stupor.”
Although it took a few beats longer than it should have they slowly begin to figure out that this is the most perfect plan ever spoken. They walk up to the
guy and, more gingerly than I thought was necessary, put the scissors on his fingers and hair across his left palm. They were giggling like little school
girls at their first boy band concert.
They then quickly fell into a group silence, I’m assuming, thinking how awesome it is that they are going to get away with it. But what I truly believe they were thinking about was tits.
They purchased me a beer which I drank thinking I was saving humanity at a much too low cost.
I went back a few days later and the same bartender was on. He said the guy finally woke up after an hour or so and slowly blinked the hair and scissors into view then looked at his friends and said,
“I’m such a fucking dick.”
And I am the savior of three young (yes, dumb) men’s lives.