Konan leaned against the bedroom wall, and glared at her partner sitting on the middle of their bed.
"But, Peinie-poo..." she wined. Her mate shook his head violently.
"No, Kona-chan. No. You may not do my hair."
Konan ground her teeth. "Well... why not?!" Her agrovated complaints rose in volume. "I want to do YOUR HAIR PEINIE-POO!!!!!!!!"
Pein shook h is head once more. "No."
Just then, Hidan walked in on their little dispute.
"What is wrong here?" he wondered, looking at the rare spectacle in front of him: Konan brandishing a hairbrush at a red-faced Pein, both looking relatively agrovated.
Pein looked up.
"She wants to do my hair."
Hidan froze. "D-do... do your hair? She wants to do it with your hair?"