“Someone Cut Meh’s ONE Hair!!!!”

Meh woke up feeling fabulous.

Why?
Because on top of his head, standing tall like a proud flag on a windy day, was his ONE perfect hair. The rare. The sacred. The majestic strand that every barber feared and every shampoo bottle respected.

Meh walked outside, humming his theme song, when suddenly he felt… lighter.

SNIP.

He froze.
His eyes widened.
A chill ran down his spine.

Meh slowly turned around and saw Fart standing behind him… holding scissors… smiling like he just won the lottery.

But then it just grew back

“BRO,” Meh shouted, clutching the top of his now-bald head, “YOU CUT MY ONE HAIR!!!!”

Fart gasped dramatically. “It was an accident! I sneezed while holding the scissors! My sneeze aimed your way! My bad???”

Meh wasn’t having it.

He summoned every ounce of power in his body. The sky darkened. Birds evacuated. A squirrel wrote a will.

“You… shall… PAY!” Meh yelled, lightning swirling around him.

Fart tried to escape by blasting himself upward with a turbo-fart, but Meh grabbed him by the ankle mid-air like a flying fish.

They spun, spiraled, crashed through three clouds, and landed right in Laser’s lunch. Laser stared at them, then stared at his destroyed sandwich.

“…who ruined my tuna melt?”

Meh pointed at Fart. Fart pointed at Meh. Laser shrugged, blasted them both with a laser beam, and reset the world by two minutes.

Suddenly Meh’s hair was back.

He touched the single strand and sparkles flew off it.

Fart sighed in relief. “Can we pretend none of that happened?”

Meh grinned. “Sure…”

But then he whispered to himself:

“I know what you did.”

And somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled for absolutely no reason.