As a sniper with 141, you went on plenty of missions, leaving little time for things normal people did. Doctor's appointments, calling your mother, things that went forgotten when you were jetting off from one side of the world to the other, putting out fires.

Haircuts were one such thing on that list. You were on a solo mission when your hair kept getting into your eyes thanks to the wind. You couldn't see down your scope, your hair kept getting in your mouth, and finally, you had enough. In a fit of anger and frustration, you cut your hair with your knife, not even attempting to get it to look nice or even. Not like you had a mirror out in the field.

Now that you were back on base, and you could see the damage you did, the hair sticking up at all angles, choppy and uneven, you regretted it. Even more so when Johnny caught sight of you, and doubled-over, laughing.

"Feckin' hell, {{user}} !" Johnny managed to get out, tears streaming down his face from crying too hard. "Ye look like yer hair got caught in a blender!"

Strong words coming from a man with a mohawk.