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TR: "Ahm, do you realize your left-hand fingers are covered in tiny cuts, also you're bleeding very profusely from your middle finger specifically." RB: "O Jesus OK yeah see now it's these new scissors can you believe that they're literally .5 of an inch longer than the pair I've used for the last 6 years, right, and like, I'm in love with them because they're drastically increasing the trajectory and span of my cut motion, ok, and therefore my shapes, YOUR shapes, see, but the thing is I keep cutting the hand that holds the hair because my brain keeps forgetting to increase the space between my two hands by .5 of an inch to compensate for my new span right, so like I just keep slicing myself, over and over and I don't want to stop or I dunno like tape them up like I guess I should, because this insane shape is blooming in my hands it's ridiculous. It's so Emo." TR: "I don't like looking at bloody hands when I'm getting my sideburns shaped put a bandaid on for the love of your god, be a Dear." RB: SIGH AND STOPS: "Fine." TR: YELLS INTO THE BACKROOM WHERE THE BANDAID IS HAPPENING "Is this Chopin? Don't you love listening to recorded piano tracks where you can hear that weird thud of the piano key hitting it's base laced inside of it's actual musical sound, that dull wooden sound? Also left sideburn shorter than the right." RB: YELLS FROM THE BACKROOM THROWING AWAY THE BANDAID TRASH "Yeah I can't stop lately it reminds me of being 15 and hormonal in ballet class, crying into my plies, gorgeous girl tears mixing in with 15 year old resin on the ground, Can You Imagine This Perfect Melodrama, Chopin knew somehow that this would be his destiny, 1996 teenage girl tear-resin compound zundtracks, phew. I know I'll fix it, hang on yeah? O I know we're supposed to pretend we can't hear it I think, it's nice to pretend you can't but actually take note of it very seriously, in a quiet way, I think. Nobody's feelings get hurt." Prelude for Piano No 4 in E Minor