Minktales

Issue 35

An Emotionutty Cartoon
starring
Minerva Mink

"Haircut"

Gregory tapped the comb on the side of the jar to get some of the moisture out. He preferred to use it that way, and although he was new to town, his success as a hairstylist in his old city had been phenomenal. All things considered, he probably should have been expecting things to not go as planned.

Gregory was a guy, about thirty, with a strong chin and long arms, and he had light brown hair and blue eyes. He'd just finished giving one lady a trim along the edges and ends of her hair, and received a generous tip in exchange, but as he watched her leave, someone else appeared, who he couldn't possibly ignore.

Minerva Mink was seated in the waiting area, watching him with an intense, but friendly smile. He tried to turn away from her, tried to look elsewhere, tried not to stare, but excessively intense feelings were starting to creep up along the sides of his consciousness already, and she was still several yards away.

"Don't let me get her. Don't let me get her." he murmured a little insincerely as Minerva walked up to the register again with a smile, to talk to the lady there.

As it turned out, only one of the people in the waiting area was a man. The other three were women, and the man had hit his head on a light fixture while he was leaping around in ecstatic delight over the sight of Minerva, and lost consciousness, thus missing his appointment. Despite that, Minerva was sitting there for almost ten minutes as she waited for the others to finish.

"Why" Gregory asked, in emotional distress the whole time, "does she have to keep staring at me?"

At last, however, her turn came, and to Gregory's terror and dismay, she sat down in the chair he was tending. Worse of all, just as he'd suspected, the emotional impulses that had been messing with him up to that point only got stronger the closer she was to him.

"I'll have just a little trim at the very bottom," Minerva said, "and maybe you can get creative with the style... or something. I suppose if I like it, I can always... keep... it."

She couldn't have said anything worse for poor Gregory, because every word dripped with artificial passion, or at least, the implications of it. It was as if she was trying to remind him that she was incredibly hot, as if he needed any reminding, and the result was that her already-oppressive charm was becoming a fire in his heart. The closer he got, and the longer he spent near her, the more his heart melted, but he couldn't disobey her...

Things only got worse when Gregory touched Minerva's hair. Instantly, the intense, passionate sensations grew by leaps and bounds, and he hurried to cut as well, and yet, as fast as he could, to finish the job, so that he might be at liberty to talk to her, but about halfway through the job, he reached for the comb, and found it missing. She was, he soon discovered, running her left forefinger along its teeth, producing a rapid clicking noise as she sat, waiting for him to finish. After a few moments, however, she noticed that he'd stopped, and handed the comb to him.

Again and again, little interruptions like that showed up in the routine, although Minerva didn't try, at least, to take his scissors, and when, at last, he made one final snip, he immediately fell to his knees, the emotional pressure too much for him, as Minerva got up in front of him.

"Thank you for putting up with me." the shining vision before him said, then pressed something flat and green into his hand, and started to walk away.

"W-wait!" Gregory exclaimed, causing Minerva to turn and face him again.

"Oh, very well," she said with a sigh, walking back towards him, "but you'll lose productivity while you're out."

At first, Gregory didn't know what Minerva meant by that, until she took his head in both hands, and gave him a kiss on the forehead. In less than a second, he collapsed, unconscious, to the floor, and his dreams were all of her.

The female stylists all scowled unpleasantly at Minerva as she strode from the shop, paying the cost of the haircut in exact change on her way out.

Gregory didn't wake up until almost closing time, despite the fact that the other stylists had made no effort to keep from kicking him as they walked this way and that. He hadn't really wanted to wake up, because he'd known that Minerva wouldn't be there when he opened his eyes. Plus, he could tell that he was bruised all over. Still, he'd managed to keep the bill in his hand, so he got to his feet and looked it over.

It was a twenty. She'd given him even more for "putting up with her" than the haircut itself had cost. Of course, the value of the kiss she'd given him could hardly be measured in money. It was the best possible end of the experience with Minerva Mink; safe, efficient, sure, and yet, it was lovely and delightful beyond the power of words to convey, or thoughts to file or explain. In that town, people called Minerva Mink "Heartbreaker" and "Temptress" as almost pseudonyms, but to him, she seemed more like an angel. He had no desire to ever move to another town after that day, unless she moved there first.

For another sort of person, that might be the end of the story.

However, Gregory had a cat who, for several days, hadn't shown its face at home, and when he got to his apartment later in the day, he could see that his cat had brought home a small rodent; possibly a vole of some kind, leaving it on his doorstep, and was sitting next to it, very proud of herself.

On another night, Gregory might have scolded her, or even yelled at her, but that night, he couldn't bring himself to lose his temper, and after realizing what he was attempting to do, he decided not to. Instead, he just grabbed his cat and took her inside, without commenting on the catch, hoping she'd get the message if he left it there, and maybe threw it away later.

Gregory made dinner inside his apartment that night, deriving a great deal more joy from experimenting with different flavors in the dish than he normally did. In fact, he was having such a good time, he decided to invite his girlfriend Melissa over for dinner, and that was how his next date with her began. In fact, it was probably the most romantic date that the two of them had had since they'd first met. It felt like all of his emotions had been trying to get through a tiny pipe for his whole life, and all of a sudden, the pipe had been cleaned out, and unclogged, then washed once more for good measure, and put back into place. He'd never felt so emotionally-stable.

"Gee, this is really good." Melissa said, tasting the dish he'd put before her, which was largely steak, with sauce of his own design, "Did you make this yourself, Greg? I can tell you put a lot into it."

"Well, I guess I just had a lot to put in today." Greg replied with a smile, but he didn't explain the events of the day any further than that. The date had gone very smoothly, and in the end, finished with a warm embrace, and a soft kiss, and Greg was glad to see Melissa so happy. He certainly didn't want to reveal to her that a kiss from another woman had rearranged his whole personality in a way that her kisses couldn't.

That night, Greg set his alarm, loving the feel of the plastic ridges on the button under his fingertips, then climbed into bed, shivering at the soft, delightful comfort of the bed sheets, and pulled the sleek, smooth metal switch, to turn off the light next to his bed, then fell asleep. After that, although his dreams were no longer filled with images of Minerva Mink, they did seem to be far more lovely and lighthearted dreams than he usually had, and he found himself enjoying them all the same.

The next day, when Gregory got to work at the hair shop, brushed off his combs and razors, and cleaned his scissors, he found, on the table next to the chair he usually minded, a note with the initials "M.M." imprinted on it.

Inside, it said, "Heard what happened. Sorry about the bruises. Hope the kiss and the tip made up for it. Sincerely, Minerva Mink." Then at the bottom, it had Minerva's home address.

Gregory just chuckled to himself, that she'd called it simply a "kiss." Perhaps, to her, that was all it was, but to him... well...

Some people sometimes encounter things in their lives that change them forever. The sight of a breathtaking canyon, or a beautiful sunset, or a brush with death. Then there are people who, no matter what they do, touch the lives of all they meet, changing them for the better, and although Gregory wasn't sure if he'd ever see Minerva again, he knew for a fact that Minerva Mink was that kind of person.

The End

Minerva: "Wow. I didn't know it was going to have that kind of impact on him. Next issue is another big comedy one. Olivia's back, and it looks like she's come into some science fiction technology, because she's after me with robots, troopers and a mysterious force I may find hard to understand at first. I hope to see you soon, when Minktales returns."

Well, someone sounded confused by the vampire thing I said last issue. A vampire plot for Minerva has been mentioned more than once by reviewers, and I admit, it's a good idea. In fact, I intend to do two vampire-related plots by the end of the year.

As far as mentioning the leopard skin, however, it seems some "D'ohs" are in order. The truth is, I got caught up in the comedy and just sort of forgot to bring it up at first. That's been corrected now, so you'll have no trouble picturing her wearing it. I know I did.