“A man has giant scissors for hands, and he is an excellent sculptor and hair stylist. If we could invent something similar, and give it to our soldiers, they could cut off the hair of our enemies a lot faster.”
“Hmmm…If the barbers join our side and they give us there scissors and shavers. The world’s military have also joined us.” Chief General Shadow examined her engraved scissors.
“Seems like a band of wild Drunk mullets have joined the long haired army. That is good, as the probably brought alcohol for the rest of the army, so they can get drunk as well.”
“We must get scissors from the barber shops. They might want to join us.” Chief General Shadow took out a beautiful pair of black scissors. They were engraved with blood red paint.