HCG: So, how do you want your hair cut?
Me: The usual, except don't give me Spock sideburns this time.
HCG: What? I never give you Spock sideburns!
Me: Whatever. So, how're you doing?
HCG: Oh, it's been terrible! My dog stepped in a mole hole and broke its leg.
Me: Mole hole? What's a mole hole?
HCG: You know how a mole makes tunnels? Well, it has to make a hole to get to its tunnel.
Me: Oh, yeah ... mole hole.
HCG: Anyway, it broke it's leg and we had to take it to the vet, but it had shoulder damage too, so he had to operate on it and take some junk from somewhere else and graft it into its shoulder and leg.
Me: Wow, is it going to be all right?
HCG: Yeah. The vet said it would probably limp the rest of its life, but its going to be okay otherwise. My God, it cost us almost three thousand dollars!
Me: Hold it. You spent three thousand dollars? And all you got back was a limping dog?
HCG: Well, yeah. What would you have done?
Me: Put it down.
HCG: What?! You mean kill it? I'll bet if it was your dog, you wouldn't kill it.
Me: I don't have a dog and if I did and it cost three grand, yes I would. Shit, you could have bought a robot dog for three thousand dollars ... or three robot cats.
HCG: Robot dog? That's stupid. You're stupid.
Me: I'm stupid? I didn't shell out three grand to a vet and all I got back was a limping dog.
HCG: How would you like me to run these scissors through your ear?
Me: I wouldn't.
Me: You're going to fuck up my hair, aren't you?