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Zac Silver's Hairy Tale - Final Chapter - Hilarious Hairdressing Story

Zac Silver's Hairy Tale - Chapter 8

Monday morning, Mr. Barker drove in through the school gates. He groaned as he took one last look at the front page of The Daily Stunner. His confused face stared out from the photo, above the bright rosette pinned to his lapel. He could just make out Zac Silver in the background – grinning in his cat-eye glasses. He read the headline for the hundredth time, “Extraordin-Hairy! Pythagorus Primary Wins Creativity Prize.”

 

The head teacher tore the paper in two and shoved it in the glove compartment. He walked into the building and up to his office. There was a winding line of at least fifty children and parents queuing outside his door. They were all holding a copy of The Stunner and an application form to join the school. Every single one was wearing a silk cravat and cat-eye glasses.

 

Mr. Barker shuffled into his office. He sat behind the broken old table and rubbed his fist wearily. He put his feet up and sighed. He clicked open his briefcase and took out the crumpled magazine.

 

Just then, he noticed a bulging envelope leaning against his mug. His name was scrawled across the front. He sprang forward and tore it open. A silky, blonde wig fell into his lap. The head teacher raised his clenched fist. He glanced at his poor desk, barely held together by a plank of wood and lowered his hand.

 

The principal swiveled the chair and saw his favourite skull glaring at him. He felt a sudden surge invade his body. He lifted the skull from the shelf, sat it on his desk and gently fitted the blonde wig onto its bony head. An uncontrollable urge possessed his fingertips - they crawled to the scissors and started trimming the fringe. Finally, he took a comb from his pocket and ran it through the silky strands. "I think I'll call you Pamela," he said, his monobrow arching like a rainbow above his trance-filled stare. Mr Barker cradled Pamela in his arms and rubbed his cheek against hers.

 

Suddenly there was a knock. Mr Barker dropped Pamela like a scorched spud into a drawer. A cat-eyed boy and his dad poked their heads around the door.

 

“Give me a minute.” The head took his feet off the table and shoved his ‘Dream Desks’ catalogue beneath a pile of files. “Come in. I haven’t got all day.”

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