When people moan about getting food and it has a hair in it

Get over it!


Yeah. I agree. Just take the hair out if you’re that bothered by it


Getting over it doesn’t help. You’re just on the other side of the hair with the same problem as before

Probably good for the immune system if anything

“Excuse me, this has a hair in it”

Unbelievable to think that people say this daily

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I find it satisfying to peel the hair out


I always think “hair today, gone tomorrow!”

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If anything, whoever owns the hair should moan about you getting food all over it!

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'Excuse me waiter, my soup doesn’t have enough hair in it. Send it back!


Probably cooked in a hair fryer these days!!!


‘Oh dear, we usually charge extra for that!’

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Hairing is caring!


Bring me a steak. Medium hair!


Living with cats crew represent


Hair today gone tomorrow

‘Ssshhh!!! Be quiet or everyone will want one!’

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Looks more like rabbit to me

MICHELLE BARNCHOP: What are we thinking, sir? Enough of a trim, do you think?

HANK surveys his reflection. The cut to his fringe makes him look five years younger, and he wonders if the woman at the cafe that he frequents during his lunch break will notice. They have that sort of rapport, don’t they? Maybe it’s just politeness. Maybe something more. Maybe? He doesn’t say any of this. He simply remarks:

HANK: Yeah, that looks great.

MICHELLE smiles amiably and reaches in the drawer for the hand mirror. As she is rooting around there, her hands lands on a few of the envelopes in there. Unpaid bills. They’re starting to pile up. The clientele had started to run dry since Andy Parsons had appeared on the cover of VOGUE. All the teenage girls who used to marvel at her ability to replicate all the hottest hair styles of the day were now obsessed with being bald and working on their five minutes of topical comedy for the open-mic night at JOCELYN’s pub. Of course, JOCELYN - MICHELLE’s estranged half sister - was doing well. Oh, she was loving this. But MICHELLE would not - could not - let bygones be bygones.

She sighed. She had a customer to deal with. She picked up the hand mirror and showed HANK the back of his head.

Egads, she thinks. HANK has a quizzical expression on her face. He’s one of her last remaining regulars. If she messes this up, then…

HANK: Excuse me.

MICHELLE: Y-y-yes?

HANK: I think you’ll find there’s only a fucking curried chicken & new potato traybake in my hair!

MICHELLE is mortified. She was so worried about the economic situation that she forgot the first thing - the most important lesson that she was taught in hair and beauty school. She could recall the stern face of her mentor, KIER STARMER (no relation)

KIER STARMER: The most important thing you have to know if you ever want to be a top class hairdresser is… NEVER, under any circumstances, get a curried chicken & new potato traybake in your customer’s hair.

Oh God, MICHELLE thought, I’m absolutely done for! This is it!

HANK stood up in his chair. With the robe still on he looked like a vengeful wizard

HANK: I’ll have you know! I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT…

MICHELLE: I’m very so–


Some TEENAGE GIRLS are walking past the window.

TEENAGE GIRL 1: ULEZ? More like bloody USE-LESS!

TEENAGE GIRL 2: Hey wow, look at that guy with his sweet new do

TEENAGE GIRL 1: Whoa! That’s so cool.

They come in.

TEENAGE GIRLS (in unison): How much would it cost for you to rub that flavourful nutritious lunchtime option into the flesh of our scalps, ma’am?

MICHELLE: Come on in! Grab a seat!

MICHELLE looks at the camera

MICHELLE: Looks like I just had to trust the free market. Neoliberalism!

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Waiter! Waiter! There’s a fly in my soup!

How does he smell?

He’s got no nose!

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