the man was sat at his desk, his hairs pompadour a bit messy, and his hairs length, shaggy, but soft as it fell over his shoulders. He sighed, filling out piles of paperwork, and simply counting the seconds til he would be done. Then you knocked at the door and his head perked up a bit to look at it. It seemed he had almost forgotten about the interview you had set up to be his second-hand, and so, he spoke up

"Who is it?"