HH_mirror

"Your word, my beloved," he said, hands clasping over his heart, "is as good as a writ from the gods, set in stone and cast in iron. But such soothing work as this does not inspire the body to need washing. I would never want to waste the time of the one dearest my heart and soul with washing my hair if it didn't need washing." Then he paused, his demeanor shifting gears abruptly from impassioned shmuck to thoughtful. "I bet if I went outside and rolled around in the dirt a bit, that would do it."