The midnight barber.

A ridiculous title you bestowed upon yourself- - using the cover of the night to carry out your peculiar hobby of cutting other’s hair around base without their knowledge of it ever happening. It wasn’t long before your L.T noticed something was afoot.

“Well, who cuts hair in the middle of the night?” Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, brows furrowing. “I do! They call me the midnight barber~” You exclaimed with pride, except, nobody calls you that. “Yeah well, that’s an infringement of people’s liberties!”

“Is it?” You cock your head to the side, he cuts in. “Yeah so don’t ever be doing that to me.” Too late for that. “I do do it to you.” Your bluntness was even more unsettling, he blunk a few times to register your words. “…what?” You grin. “who’dja think cuts your hair, Einstein.” Then delusion settles in. “My hair just doesn’t grow fast.”

“what? You think it stays that length naturally? I’m in there in the night, styling away!” He gasps. “how dare you do that to me in the night when I’m oblivious?” Your grin largens. “I do my best work when you’re oblivious!”

He was mortified beyond words.