It is that time of year again. The time of year where I try to grow a beard. Then three weeks later, get disgusted and shave it off. You see, my beard grows in very black. Which would be OK, but the hair on my head is brown and the contrast isn't pretty. Neither of which matches the very thin, blond little girl's hair that I have on my arms. This potpourri of rogue keratin strands got me wondering how this happened. This is my theory.
(The following is a conversation between Harvey, a production technician, and his production supervisor. It takes place at the Human Assembly Plant in Toledo, Ohio.)
"What is it, Harvey?"
"Sir, I've been working on this GM model, you know, the Grown Man? Well, we are all out of GM arm hair. All we have left is YG-blonde. What should I do?"
"Young Girl-blonde?! That's all that's left? Dammit, Harvey, we have to make our production numbers for this month or we will lose our bonus! Use the YG-blonde."
"Use it, sir? Won't Quality Control reject it?"
"Let me worry about Quality Control. Besides, they still haven't figured out that we are still using those defective skull pieces we got from the Russians. You know, the ones that won't hold hair on the top longer than 30 years? So, just do as I say."
"Yes, sir. Um...sir..."
"What now, Harvey?"
"Well, we are also out of GM-brown facial hair."
"What DO you have, Harvey?"
"Well, I have some GM-Mediterranean black facial hair."
"I guess that's better than YG-blonde."
"Yes, sir. But I don't have enough for a full beard."
"Do I have to do all of your thinking for you, Harvey? Spread it out. He won't be able to grow a full beard, but at least he'll have something to shave."
"Yes, sir. Right away."
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