Napoleon Hair
Picking up his partner outside the barbershop, Illya shook his head.
"What?"
"Why were you in there?"
"It was time for a trim."
"Trim, Napoleon your hair does not grow that fast in a week."
"My hair needs to be under control, not like someone else's."
"We are not discussing my hair. That style makes you look like an executive."
"Thank you."
"Except for that small lock that keeps falling on your forehead."
Napoleon frowned as he pushed the strand back in place.
Minutes later, it fell again.
"What's the matter?" Illya said smiling.
"Just hand me the Brylcreem, will you?" Napoleon growled.