Work Text:
It was late at night on the Nowhere Islands. The rest of the Pigmasks were out and Fassad was alone on the Mother Porkship. He was safe. His secret was safe.
Fassad held up his hand mirror and took off his keffiyeh.
His hair was growing in again.
It had been a while since he had last gotten the chance to shave. There was lots of work to be done and he had been busy. Busy eating bananas, busy ordering the Pigmasks around, busy dealing with those stupid monkeys, busy preparing to introduce Happy Boxes to every citizen of Tazmily.
Sure, nobody would question his hair as long as he kept it under the keffiyeh. But every time he took off the hat, it was a reminder of what he had been. What he no longer was.
What he was glad he could never return to.
Reaching into the box by his bed, he drew out an artifact. It was from the old world, before everyone had gone on the boat. An electric hair clipper, powered by batteries that hadn’t yet died.
With the device in hand, he exhaled and drew the blade towards the pink hairs on his scalp.