The Eighth Page

The Tortoise and His Hair

Once upon a time, in a galaxy not far from here, there existed a tortoise. Let us call this tortoise The Tortoise. The Tortoise was a slow, gentle creature who dabbled in book clubs and knitting rather than crime fighting and pizza eating like his more lively teenage mutant ninja cousins. The Tortoise made a fairly comfortable living in his home in Palo Alto, but he had one problem. He was in a constant battle against the hair.

Not just the hare, but his own hair. His hair grew at a furious rate in black stalks so thick that he grew righteous dreadlocks. So thick was his hair that his moustache was said to be the home of a hobbit family, and his beard made Chuck Norris (yes, the man himself) jealous. In fact, you could call this tortoise Chuck Tortoise, but only if you really want to.

And to speak of the hair that occupied his head… phenomenal. Sometimes, when The Tortoise sat outside, his neighbors thought an eclipse was happening. One day The Tortoise decided the scruff was enough. “Enough with the scruff,” he said. Furthermore, by the transitive property, enough was enough.

Since no barber was brave enough to face The Tortoise’s hair, he went down to ZVS and bought himself a Jilete shaving kit (disclaimer: we are legally allowed to use the names CVS and Gillette, we just chose not to), along with a few other tools. The moment of truth was upon him.

In front of the mirror, The Tortoise looked himself in the eyes as he prepared for the task at hand. And so he went, clipping off years of memories and hobbit homes, moving from a chain saw, to garden clippers, to scissors, and then finally to a razor. The work was long and tedious, but slowly The Tortoise worked to defeat the hair. Many hours later, a new tortoise stood before the mirror. He saw his face for the first time in years, but now instead of an abundance of hair he now had an array of scars crisscrossing his face.

The moral of the story; slow and steady shaves the face.