A Pair of ‘Genes’ 4: The Holidays by DPTemplar
Once again, as always within this series, I humbly apologize to any and all members of Marvel comics, including Stan Lee, as well as any celebrities that may be mentioned in the text (directly or indirectly). This is for reading purposes, only. Please enjoy.
December 20, 1999
Christina was getting ready to get her friends John and Angie something great for Christmas. She had already bought her cousins huge gifts, and that left her account rather low at the moment. She needed cash now. She wasn’t going to whore herself (although the thought of some guys having sex with an Asia Carrera-lookalike would turn them on). She wasn’t going to sell blood, either. Then, she thought of the classic O. Henry story, The Gift of the Magi. She quickly looked in the classifieds in her paper, as well as the internet, to see if there were any interested parties willing to take a female and cut her hair.
She found a man that lived four blocks away who was willing to do this. She called him up, and set up an appointment for that afternoon. She used her mutant power of cell control to grow her hair extra long; she wanted to give him a nice present, after all. She knew his deal was quite sweet: for a buzzcut or a shave, he’d pay $1000 in cash. She couldn’t pass it up.
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The man heard a loud knock on his door, and was visited by a tall Asian goddess. He noticed her hair went to her ankles! He was quite happy. He showed her the money, and sat her down. He asked her if it would be okay if he were to videotape this. She said sure; the tape and the hair would be her Christmas gifts to him. He set up the video camera, and began to tape.
He first set up her hair in a large ponytail, then began to cut it off with a large sharp pair of scissors. This was the largest pair of scissors Chris had ever seen in her life. They were darn near the size of shears. SCRUNCH, SCRUNCH, SCRUNCH, went her hair, and a large jet black ponytail went FLOOMP on the floor. Her hair was now up to her shoulders. The barber picked up her ponytail, and held it to her face.
When he came out with the large Wahl clippers, and turned them on with a loud POP sound, Christina pretended to be nervous, acting as though this were the first time this year, or in her whole life, that she had her head buzzed or shaved. He used a number 1 attachment on the clippers, and began at her nape, and slowly moved the clippers up her head. Path upon path, he began shearing her, and she was loving it, as always. She felt how light her head was as he began to re-oil his clippers, and remove the attachment. The sensation of the lightness of her head was one of the many reasons of why she loved getting her head shaved. With the guard missing, he ran the clippers over her head quickly. She giggled quietly to herself. Then he wrapped a wet hot towel around her clipped scalp, then applied shaving cream, then another hot towel. After removing the second hot towel, he applied more cream, then began to shave her with a very large stropping razor.
Christine knew she was in the hands of a master. He carefully, yet quickly, removed the cream and stubble from her head. He then noticed that, although she had a thick head of long luxurious hair, when he shaved her, it looked as though she’d been shaved before, due to the tan on her body, including her scalp. He then recoated her head with cream, and used a Mach3 razor. After applying moisturizing lotion on her denuded scalp, he turned off the camera, and gave Chris the well-earned money.
Then Chris gave him one more holiday present.
She began to use her mutant power to grow her hair back. “Oh, how about one more shave, for an extra thousand, please?”
At first, he was shocked that this woman was a mutant; he feared he would be in trouble, or that those X-Men he’d heard so much about would show up next. But, in the holiday spirit, plus the fact that she loved it so much she was willing to do it again, he agreed quickly, and set her up for another headshave.
Later that afternoon, Chris walked out of the nice barber’s apartment with two grand in her pocket, which was enough to get her friends some good gifts. It truly was better to give (hair) than to receive (cash), she felt. She didn’t want to grow her hair back when she got to her apartment, so she kept it bald. She was quite glad her jacket had a hood on it, for it was freezing that day. She went to the stores, to get her friends the gifts.
December 25, 1999
John arrived at the ladies’ apartment with his presents, and promised to take them out to eat for dinner. Christina handed John and Angie their presents: both received Sony DVD players, and a copy of Rush Hour for both.
“Wow, Chris, thanks!” stated a surprised Angie. “Where’d you get the bread for this stuff?”
“Well, Angie, John, in the spirit of the Gift of the Magi, I sold my hair to get you this stuff. Merry Christmas, guys.”
“Uh, Chris, I have a confession for you. To get you your present, I sold my hair for the cash. Imagine that guy that lived four blocks from us when he thought that Christina Aguilera was going for a headshave… he almost crapped his pants!”
Four blocks? Hmm, that’s coincidence, she thought. They continued to exchange gifts, and had fun during the day.
Epilogue: December 31, 1999
John was sitting with Christina and Angie looking depressed.
“Why so sad,” asked Chris.
“Because I don’t have a girlfriend, and if I asked either of you out, the other may get jealous, and I like you both a lot, and…”
Angie put her hand on his shoulder and said, “Hey, it’s cool. We get it, amigo. No sweat.” Then she pointed him to the mistletoe that was hanging above the doorway. John kissed Angie, then he kissed Christina, then since Chris and Angie were bi, they kissed each other. They then watched Dick Clark do the countdown from Times Square, knowing that 2000 was around the corner. But what if the rumors of disaster and doom were true? Then what? The three friends held each other’s hands as they counted down with the millions watching in anticipation:
HAPPY NEW YEAR 2000!!!
(Well, if we’re still here by Jan. 2, 2000, then it’s not the end, not by a long shot)