You owe it to the people you love to be free of hair - but of course you will love to walk around the house gazing into a mirror, your pits on display, wearing a mask because you have hideous ghastly hair called "eyebrows" and you used Solva-Roma to remove them, and then you applied false ones with paint, but you had an allergic reaction! You had scales! Hateful, ugly scales! Your children wil run away screaming! Your husband will turn away, his face a tangle of competing emotions, from disgust to rage to hatred to a grim, bitter hatred of the Church whose strictures keep him tied forever to your disfigured self! Like it's any skin off the Pope's nose if you leave! Like he knows what it's like to live with a woman whose coarse leg-nubs can be felt through her thick woolen nightgown! The disgust flows up his throat like bile!

Tonight he must walk the wharf again and find one who deserves it. She must have a long neck. A SMOOTH HAIRLESS NECK