Barber: Y-y-yes sir. B-b-b-be with you in a minute.

(The barber is now washing and re-washing his hands, trying to remove the obvious blood-stains from them and his coat.)

Barber: H-h-how would you like it sir?

Customer: Just short back and sides.

Barber: How do you do that?

Customer: Oh, you know, just short back and sides.

Barber: It's not a.. a razor cut, RAZOR CUT BLOOD ARTERY MURDER SPUrt..arr...

Customer: No, just ordinary short back and sides, you know...

Barber: It's just s-s-s-scissors then...

Customer: Yes.

Barber: You wouldn't rather forget all about it?

Customer: What?

Barber: You wouldn't prefer to have it just combed?

Customer: Oh, no.. I want something cut off!

Barber: Cut, CUT HEART HITCHCOCK MURDER BLOOD PSYCHO HOMICIDE SPURT ARTERY TREMOR CORTEX Arrrgg...!

(The barber fakes a few quick snips.)

Barber: There, finished.

Customer: I beg your pardon?

Barber: I've finished cutting, cutting, CUTTING, CUTTING YOUR HAIR!

Customer: Well, you haven't even done any cutting yet.

Barber: All right, I confess I didn't cut your hair. I hate hair. I-I I can't bear cutting it. I have this uncontrolable fear whenever I see hair. My mother said I was a fool! She said the only way to overcome my fear would be to become a barber. I didn't want to be a barber.

I wanted to be... A LUMBERJACK! (music up)