::Mike stands at the bathroom mirror, squinting into it. He tugs at a lock of his hair, while regarding it suspiciously::

What the hell? Has this bit gone BLONDE? Jesus - I think I've officially become calico-colored. Maybe I should dye it.

::sighs, and returns to normal hair care...the hair gel container is empty, so he goes under the sink and gets a largish box::

Jesus, Lennie, I appreciate the thought, but a lifetime suppy of this junk....

::notices a piece of paper in amongst the containers, pulls it out and reads::


"Dear Mike
If you're reading this, I've probably been gone for about a year. While I'm really touched that you actually used this, I have to say, you reaffirm my faith in how gullible you can be.
Remember how you used to complain about my hair gunk? Consider this my revenge. I KNEW if I left you a case of it, you'd be so cheap you'd use the whole box.
Joke's up, kid. Give the rest to Munch, go back to the mousse or whatever girly stuff it was that you used before.
Oh, and watch out. On some people, it starts making your hair streaky.
Lennie"

::Mike stares at the note, stares back in the mirror, and snarls a moment before giving a rueful laugh::

Ok, you got me one last time. Right in the vanity, too. I miss you a lot, Len. But your nasty-ass hair gel is OUTTA here.
Wonder how long this is gonna take to grow out?