Just Another School Part I by Just_Me

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As we were walking into school, I poked my buddy, John. "I’m tired of this lame-assed school. Wanna bet that I can get myself kicked out today?"

John shook his head. "Brent, I may not have known you long, but I know you’re batsh!t crazy, and will do it if you set your mind to it."

A slow smile spread across my face. "You’re right, and I’m going to do it. I will be in the office six times before the day is over, and the principal will call Dad and tell him to come get me."

I was in the office before the first bell rang. I walked up to Mrs. Shelton and poked her in the chest. "Your tits are about the size of a pimple I popped this morning. Would you let me squeeze them and see if they’ll pop like my pimple did?"

I listened with fake contrition while the principal read me the riot act. I barely made it to my second period class ("Body Talk: Practical Sexual Health Education for High Schoolers") before the bell rang.

Mr. Anderson started droning, and I almost fell asleep before I remembered my quest to get sent to the office. I raised my hand.

I gave him my most innocent look. "Mr. Anderson, we’re doing all this talk about reproduction, but from my perspective, my cock only has three purposes. Are there other purposes for having a cock that I don’t know about?"

I had to choke back laughter when he responded. I couldn’t believe he had fallen for it.

He spoke in his prissy tone. "We’ve talked about this before. Please refer to your anatomy by the proper name. It is a penis."

He looked at the class. "Everyone, please repeat after me. ‘Penis’."

Like typical teenagers, half of the class had to laugh.

Then he turned his attention back to me. "Mr. Greene, I’m not certain what three functions you are referring to. Would you care to enlighten me, so that I may answer your query?"

I smirked. "Oh, that’s easy. You use it to piss. You take it in your hand and stroke it until something comes out the end, or you poke it in one of three holes on a broad." I looked around. "Two holes if you’re a fag." Then I grabbed my crotch. "Speaking of cocks. I just thought of another use for it. I use my big cock to impress the ladies."

He pointed to the door. "Office. Now!"

I strolled to the door, and had a thought. "Let’s add insult to injury." I stopped in front of his desk, and flipped my hair at Mr. Anderson. I pointed at the small fringe of hair he had circling his head. "It’s not my fault I have a bigger cock and better hair than you do. See ya on the flip side, Baldy!"

I paused to take a bow, and enjoy the laughter of my classmates before I left. I walked out of the classroom with a big grin on my face, thinking. "Two down, four to go…"

As I was walking to the principal’s office, I thought, "I wish he’d come up with some new way to yell at me. He always says the same damned stuff." I had another thought, and decided to do it.

I stopped at the nurse’s office. "Excuse me, ma’am, but Mr. Anderson sent me down here to get two cotton balls, if you have them."

"No problem. Just a sec…" She handed them to me. "Do you have any idea why he needs them?"

I shook my head. "I don’t know, but I’d guess he won’t be using them to put medicine on his dick to cure a VD problem. He’s probably never been laid." I looked concerned. "Doesn’t it seem odd that they’d have a virgin teaching sex ed?"

I walked out without waiting on a response. I stuffed the cotton in my ears, so I wouldn’t have to listen to the principal. I thought, "Way to go, Dude. Your long, thick hair will hide the cotton. Old Man Dufus will never know you’ve got it in there."

The cotton helped. I didn’t hear a thing he said. I knew it was time to leave when he pointed at the door.

I didn’t even sit down when I walked into physics. I kicked my leather loafers off, and yelled, "Damn it. It’s hot in here."

"Mr. Greene! Control yourself. I will not tolerate this outrageous outburst of incomprehensible emotions. It is both childlike and absolutely unnecessary."

I thought, "Why in the hell can’t any of the teachers in this school talk like a real person?"

I was all innocence when I replied. "I can’t stand it. I’m going to catch on fire if I don’t cool down!"

I poked the girl in front of me (who I knew had a crush on me. She sighed every time she looked at me). "Yo, bitch, gIve me a hair tie. I need to put my hair in a ponytail."

I grabbed my shirt and yanked. All the buttons flew off and I threw it on the floor. I yanked my belt out of the loops and accidentally hit crush girl. My pants followed, revealing to the whole class that I also go commando. I sighed. "Ah, that feels better."

Mrs. Hanicack was sputtering.

I wiggled my cock at her. "I figure an old crone like you hasn’t seen a cock in forty years. How does it feel to finally see one?" I bent down and picked up my pants and shoes. "I know. I’m on my way to the office."

I walked down the hall butt naked, and I really enjoyed the feel of my hair bouncing on my shoulder blades.

I was really disappointed when I got to the principal’s office. Instead of yelling at me, and sending me back to class, he called Dad. I thought, "Damn! I had some good pranks left up my sleeve. I guess I’ll have to remember them for when I’m ready to get kicked out of the next school Dad sends me to."

I could hear Dad over the phone. "What the hell?! That’s the third school in three months." The next thing he said kinda chilled my blood. "I can guaran-damn-tee you he won’t be expelled from the next school I have lined up, unless they bring him out in a body bag."

I sat on a bench outside the principal’s office for almost five hours before Dad came to pick me up. I was pissed. It was only a forty-five minute drive. I was fuming!

I screamed, "Where the hell have you been? I’ve been waiting for you!"

"I had some things to take care of. Get in."

The whole drive home was in silence. Dad never said a word, or answered any of my questions. At one point I screamed, "Damn it! I’m talking to you."

He just looked straight ahead.

We got out of the car, and for the first time in years, I noticed Dad as a human being, not a source of money. He was so stooped that he looked like a little old man. Tears were running down his face when he said, "I can blame no one but myself for your actions. When your mother died, I was so consumed with my grief that I didn’t think about getting either of us therapy. I lost control of you, and I knew it…but I excused your behavior as an expression of grief, instead of admitting what it was. You became a spoiled little rich brat, and I enabled your excesses. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize what was happening, and step back into my role as your father, rather than just becoming your caregiver. I was wrong, and I will regret that as long as I live."

"I’m about to right that wrong. I’m taking control, and you’re probably not going to like it." He looked at me, and I could see the disgust in your eyes. "I should’ve started years ago by making you get a haircut, instead of letting you turn into…" He pointed at my hair, "...this travesty of a human."

I lost the vision of Dad as a human, and he became just a parent again. "What the hell are you talking about? I love my hair, and so does everyone else. I get multiple compliments a day on it!"

"Maybe so, but that hair is about to hit the floor."

"Like hell it is. I’m keeping my hair just like it is."

He straightened up, and for the first time in years, I saw fire in Dad’s eyes.. "NO, you’re not. It may be too late, but I’m stepping up to the plate, and I’m going to give you the discipline you need, rather than throw gifts at you. I will not tolerate your excesses any more."

"My hair is not going any damned place but where I go."

"Since you’ve already got yourself kicked out of every public and private school in the city, and several boarding schools, you are going to Mount Pisgah Military Academy in the morning, and all that hair will be on the floor soon after you arrive."

"Like hell I am. I’ll leave."

"How will you leave? Both of your vehicles are in my name. If you try to take one of them, I will report them stolen, and have you arrested."

"You can’t do that!"

"Like hell I can’t. I can, and I will. I can also sell them, or give them to a homeless person. You have no say in it."

He looked at me. "Follow me."

I followed him to the garage, and he opened all of the doors. Both the new Porsche and the Dodge Ram were missing. In the spot where I normally parked my truck was an old, dilapidated Ford Pinto. It was dented and faded to hell, and the color on one of the fenders didn’t match the rest of the car.

"Your car and truck are in storage, and that is the only car you have in your name. You’re welcome to take it, but I have to warn you. It smells like puke, piss and baby diapers. The former owners had a bunch of kids, and they evidently never cleaned up after their kids."

I shivered, and thought, "I’d rather die than be seen in public in that disgusting thing."

"You can walk, take the bus or drive the Pinto. From my perspective, that’s your only choices."

"I’ll get an apartment of my own."

"How?"

I sneered, "You’re a dumbass, Dad. I’ll use the trust funds that Mom and Grandma left me."

His next monologue made my blood run cold, and for some reason I believed him, even though he had never followed through with any of his threats in the past.

"Exactly how do you plan to gain access to the trust funds? I have full control of both of them until you’re twenty-five. There’s also a clause in the trust that says if I don’t think you’re capable of managing the trust, I can extend the age limit. I filed the paperwork today to get it extended until you’re forty. I will go sign the papers later today."

"I’ll get a lawyer."

"I have two questions. First, how will you pay this lawyer, and secondly, do you think any lawyer in town will go up against the firm of Dunn, Hill and Nix? You know they’re the best firm in the state, and I pay them a million dollar a year retainer, plus more for additional work. Good luck with that. They’re not going to lose me as a client, and they will fight you until you are sixty, if I choose to raise the age limit on your trust that high." He glared at me. "Do NOT attempt to push me on this. I will call them right now, and make sure you don’t get a red cent until you’re sixty if you don’t immediately start acting like a human." He smirked. "It wouldn’t be hard for them to do. Just a few keystrokes would change forty to sixty."

"In addition, if you do decide to leave, I bought all the designer clothes in your closet, and they’re staying here. Just to help you get started in the new life you’re dreaming about, I’ll take you to Goodwill, and give you $50 to buy yourself a wardrobe." He glared. "Also, ALL of your credit cards have been cancelled. You can’t buy a candy bar without coming to me for the money." He stared at me. "Now, are you going to Mt. Pisgah, or are you going to move out?"

"What the hell? You can’t do that to me. You’re supposed to love and support you."

"Oh, I love you, and I’m doing this because I love you. You’re too bright a kid to ruin your whole future, and by the way, I will continue to support you as long as you live with me, or the school I send you to, but if you move out, you’re on your own. I won’t give you a dime." He chuckled. "Maybe you could work double shifts at McDonalds to get enough money to rent a room for some little old lady. You’d love their cheap, polyester uniforms."

I cursed and said, "You may have won the battle, but the war ain’t over. I’ll find a way to beat you."

"You’re welcome to try." He started walking away, and then turned back to me. "Don’t worry about packing any clothes. Everything you will need is supplied by the school, right down to the underwear and toothbrush…and you won’t need any shampoo. That mop is disappearing."

Dad and I didn’t speak for the rest of the night, or most of the next morning. In fact, we didn’t speak until he parked in front of the school.

He parked, and I got out of the car. "Hang on, son. I’ll walk in with you."

I glared at him. "I’m a big boy, and I’m perfectly capable of finding the dean’s office by myself."

"I know that, but I still want to go in with you."

"Suit yourself. You always do what you want, and don’t give a damn about how it affects me."

We looked around the campus, and watched a group of what I assumed were students running by, and I heard my first military cadence being called. (I didn’t know enough at the time to call it a platoon.)

Seeing all the buzz cuts sent a chill down my spine. Even the girls had no hair.

I started walking to the school, leaving Dad to follow if he wanted to.

There was a sign above the door. "Welcome to Mount Pisgah Military Academy, where we take the worst miscreants and turn them into solid citizens."

I muttered, "That’s a crock of BS! It won’t work on me. I like who I am."

I found an office marked "Commandant of Cadets" and figured that was what I was looking for. A lady in a military-looking uniform, with short grey hair greeted us. After talking for a few minutes, she buzzed someone, and a huge man walked into the reception area.

I thought, "What a loser! The poor dude lost all of his hair, and he thinks shaving it is going to hide the fact." I dismissed him with the thought, "He’s just another dumbass."

He introduced himself as COL Sparks, and answered a few of Dad’s questions. His military background was clear in the way he dismissed Dad. "You can leave now Mr. Greene, and I’ll take it from here. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of your son, and I can almost guarantee you that you’ll be surprised at the changes in him when you see him next."

I smirked. "Yeah, right. Hell will freeze over first." I issued my first challenge at the school. "Neither you, nor anyone else in this school is going to change me."

COL Spark replied coolly, "We’ll see about that."

Dad hugged me. "I love you son."

"If you love me so damned much, why am I here?" I turned my back and stared out the window.

COL Sparks answered for Dad. "Don’t be blaming your father for your actions. YOU are the one who screwed up, and got kicked out of every school in the area. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your own actions. Now apologize to your father."

I gave him the evil eye. "Hell will freeze over before I apologize to the bastard. He’s the one who deserted me after Mom died. I was just trying to get him to give me some attention."

Dad sobbed. "You’re right, and I was wrong. I’m sorry, but I’m trying to make the best out of the situation that we both got ourselves into."

He patted me on the shoulder. "I’ll see you soon."

COL Sparks issued his first command. "Follow me."

I thought about resisting, but decided it’d be best to get the lay of the land before saying too much. I followed him into his office.

"I want to get to know you a little bit before I have you shown around the campus. Have a seat, and let’s talk a bit."

I was wary, but I sat down. We started talking about sports and then just talked for a long time.

I thought I was smart, but I wasn’t smart enough to recognize what he was doing. He threw casual questions into the conversation, and I never realized he was drilling me.

"I see you like long hair. As I’m sure you know, long hair is verboten at a military academy, and we’ll be dealing with your hair shortly." He paused, and then asked, "In your opinion, what’s the worst haircut a man can have?

"You mean beside Mother Nature taking a man’s hair away from him, leaving just a ridiculous-looking laurel wreath around the edge? That bitch is evil for doing that to so many poor bastards!"

He pointed at his smooth head. "From my perspective, I think there’s much worse things Mother Nature can do to you than take your hair. As you can see, I’ve embraced my baldness, and I’m happy with how I look." He idly brushed his well-trimmed mustache. "Sorry about the monologue. To answer your question, yes, besides MPB, what’s the worst haircut you’ve ever seen?"

"That’s easy. The stupid chili bowls that people wore in the Nineties. Talk about dumb! I would be so ashamed to walk out in public with that dumbass haircut. Hell, I’d rather look like you than have a bowl cut!" I grinned at him. "Unlike you, I don’t have to worry about going bald. I have good genes, and no one in my family has ever balded."

"Well, aren’t you the lucky bastard?"

I gave him a cheeky grin. "I sure as hell am. I’m all good looks and good hair, and no one can take that away from me."

We talked a little more about life at the academy, and then he interjected, "What’s your biggest fear?"

"I ain’t afraid of nothing but going bald!"

"Your balls are bigger than mine. I’m scared to death of snakes."

"You’re a wimp. Snakes are nothing. Spiders are what’s creepy. They make those nasty webs that get caught in your hair, and they’re just freaky looking." I shivered.

I thought, "COL Sparks is pretty chill, at least for a teacher. This might not be as bad as I thought, if all the teachers are as cool as he is."

"The way the human brain works amazes me. I like spiders, and I have some tarantulas, but you hate them. You don’t mind snakes, but to me, snakes are evil. As they say, the only good snake is a dead snake." He shivered. "The only way I want anything to do with anything related to snakes is as a pair of snakeskin cowboy boots. I’m going to get a pair someday."

"What size boots do you wear? Dad had a pair made for me a while back, but they’re not my style. I’ve never even tried them on. I’ll let you have mine."

COL. Sparks shook his head. "I’d love to have them, but it’s against the rules."

"Screw the rules! I hate fricking rules!"

He laughed, and put one of his feet on the desk. "I doubt seriously they’d fit this big-assed foot, even if I wanted to take them, but thanks for offering."

"Speaking about my foot made me wonder what’s the one part of your body that you hate?"

"There’s nothing about this body that’s not perfect! I have great eyes, a perfect Roman nose, a big cock and check this out." I laughed and stood up. I lifted my shirt, revealing my six pack.

"That’s some fairly impressive musculature for a young man, but mine’s better." He flexed, showing off his huge bicep. I thought his shirt sleeve was going to split. "I’ve worked on this body for almost thirty years, and I have to modestly say, it’s magnificent, but I hate the cleft in my chin." He thought for a second. "Oh, and there’s a small gap in my beard over here that I found when I didn’t shave on my last vacation. I hate that damned gap. Fortunately, I have to shave everyday, and no one knows it but me."

"Oh, I love my chin and square jawline, and I wouldn’t change a thing about my beard. It’s perfect just like me."

"You’re a modest son of a bitch, aren’t you?"

"No one’s ever accused me of that before, but if you say I’m modest, I’ll add it to the list of assets I have."

"I like your confidence, but seriously, if you had to change something about your body, what would it be? God, Mother Nature, or the Universe, has a way of keeping us humble. Even the most perfect body has flaws."

"I guess if I had to say I hated something about myself it would be my damned ears. That’s why I wear my hair long."

"Just for the sake of argument, what do you think the worst thing the Universe could do to you would be?"

"Dude! I’ve already lost my mom. That’s the worst thing life could do to me. Anything else that comes my way is going to be a friggin piece of cake." A tear trickled down my cheek, and I wiped it quickly, hoping the colonel hadn’t seen it. I kept talking. "You’re about to do the only other thing I’ve ever feared. You’re going to take my hair away. My hair is my identity, so I’m going to feel like a nobody."

"You’ve told me how you feel about your hair. What’s the other thing you like most about yourself?"

"I like my sense of style. Mom really taught me how to dress nicely, but to put enough zing in my style to keep me from being routine. I can honestly say I’ve never had anyone ever say anything negative about the way I dress, and I get lots of compliments." I smirked, "Of course, it helps that I have a dad with enough money to buy me whatever I want."

I kept talking, "Not that it’s ever happened, but the only other thing I can think of is that I would hate is being embarrassed in front of people."

"After all the antics you’ve pulled to get kicked out of schools you’re not embarrassed about any of them?"

"Nope, I’d do it all again, and I have some plans that are better than anything I’ve ever executed." I bragged, "I’ve always been the best at things that I care about. I’ve never had anyone who could show me up when I really set my mind to it."

He did something with his computer. "I’m looking at your transcripts, and I can see you’re right. You’re way ahead of most people in English, history and sports. You obviously don’t like math and science. Your grades are at the bottom of the rankings there, and I sincerely doubt it’s due to a lack of capacity. It’s due to a lack of passion."

"Who gives a damn about math and science? I’m going to be an artist. I don’t need that crap."

"I don’t mean to threaten you, but if you don’t bring up your scores, you’re probably going to regret it. We have ways to motivate you, but you won’t like it."

I stared him down. "Bring it on. There’s nothing you can do to make me care about those stupid subjects. I’ll take whatever you dish out, and top you, but I won’t even try to learn that crap." I pointed at the computer. "You might as well just put a big fat ‘F’ in those classes for the rest of the year."

"Thanks for being honest, but I wouldn’t get too cocky if I were you. I imagine that by the end of the year you’ll be begging for math and science books."

"Like hell I will."

He looked at his watch. "I’m going to turn you over to the first sergeant. He’ll show you around, and get you to the quartermaster, so we can get you outfitted."

"I know this is your show, but can we get my haircut over first? I’m really dreading it, and I’d rather just get it done."

He smiled. "I can respect that. Wait here for five minutes while I go get a few things ready for you. I’ll be back, and we’ll start the process of turning you into a real man."

"Right!" I grabbed my crotch, and leered at him. "This says I’m already a real man, and I can give you a list of girls who will verify what I’m saying."

I somehow felt deflated when he said, "The ability to have sex has nothing to do with whether you’re a man. You’re not so special in that area of your life. Every young man that reaches a certain age can procreate, unless they die young. Almost every young man eventually gets to fornicate, so the fact that you have ain’t nothing to brag about." He gave me a disgusted look. "A real man is someone who can love a woman, and make her feel cherished through a lifetime, not just one night. Having a bunch of one-night stands just shows how immature and shallow you really are under all the hype." He shook his head, "I know a eunuch who’s more of a man than you are right now, but I hope we can show you the error of your ways."

"Good luck with that."

He left, and the man who came back in was not the same affable man I had been talking to for the last hour. "Cadet Greene, on your feet!" He glared at me. "The first rule of survival in the academy is to always assume the position of attention when speaking with an officer. I’m going to show you one time how it’s done. If you do not do it correctly, you will drop and give me twenty. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"YOU WILL NEVER USE THE WORD ‘YEAH’ WHEN SPEAKING WITH AN OFFICER. The correct response is, ‘Sir, yes sir!’ Is that clear?"

I gave him a half-assed "Sir, yes sir."

He damned near put his nose on mine, and he splattered my face with spit when he screamed, "Try that again, and do it correctly if you don’t want to have to dig a three-foot by three-foot ditch before your next meal!"

I was already hungry, so I gave it my all. "SIR, YES SIR!"

"Now, follow me."

He led me into a room with just a chair and a table with a cloth, a mirror, a comb, a pair of clippers and some scissors on it. "Sit down."

"Go ahead and shave me. It’ll just make it easier for me to join the Ninth Street Gang."

"Do you want to rephrase that? All comments directed to an officer will be preceded with the word, ‘Sir’. Do you understand?"

"SIr, yes sir."

"Now make your comment properly."

"Sir, go ahead and shave me. It’ll just make it easier for me to join the Ninth Street Gang." I paused, and added "Sir" just to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.

"That’s a negatory, cadet. First, you’re not leaving this academy until I give you permission, so you won’t be able to get close enough to the Ninth Street gang to join them. Secondly, you have not earned the right to be subjected to military rules, or be treated with military respect."

"I thought,...ugh…Sir, I thought a headshave was mandatory, sir."

"Did I tell you that you would get your head shaved?"

"Uh, sir, no sir."

"What did I say?"

I had to think for a moment. "I believe…uh…sir, I’m not 100% certain, but I believe you said something to the effect that long hair is verboten at a military academy, and we’ll be dealing with your hair shortly."

"Well, at least you were listening. Sit there, at the position of attention until I return. I will be back shortly."

I’m not sure how long I sat there, but it seemed like an hour before he returned. He had someone with him, and the man was carrying a set of aluminum bowls. I wondered what they were for, and quickly forgot about it.

"This is Supply Sergeant Gonzales. Our regular barber is not available, and this nasty mess on your head doesn’t deserve being treated by a skilled artisan like our barber. SGT Gonzales will deal with your hair now, and will be in charge of you for the next hour or so, but I am going to stay to watch you, and make sure you don’t pull any shenanigans."

SGT Gonzales halfheartedly wrapped the cloth around me and picked up one of the bowls. "I’m going to start with this one. I hear you’re a smartass, and think you’re the wisest person on the planet. Someone who thinks they’re that smart probably has a big head."

He plopped the bowl on my head. "Too big. You evidently don’t have as many brains in that skull as you think you do."

He put the next size bowl on my head. "That’ll work." He took the bowl off, and combed my hair straight forward, nearly pulling me bald-headed in the process. The hair hanging in my face completely blocked my view. I felt the bowl when he put it back on my head, then he pushed the bowl toward the front of my head, so that it covered my eyes. My head was shoved forward. "Don’t move, cadet."

For the first time in my life, I heard the sound of clippers, and felt them running up my neck. He brutally removed all the hair hanging below the bowl.

Panic set in. I put two and two together. I had told the Colonel that I hated bowl cuts, and there was a bowl on my head. I shuddered, and a tear leaked down my face.

It didn’t seem like it took him seconds to finish shaving my neck. He looked at the colonel. "Sir, may I have your help here?"

"What do you need?"

"Would you hold this bowl still for me?"

The colonel stepped up, and put his hand on the bowl…and pushed down hard. I was afraid he was going to break my neck with all the pressure he was applying.

SGT Gonzales took a pair of scissors, and whacked his way around the bowl. I felt it when someone lifted the bowl off my head, but I still couldn’t see a thing because all the hair in the front was hanging in my eyes, where the bowl had been shoved over them.

I assumed I had no hair on the back of my neck.

SGT Gonzales looked at COL Sparks. "Sir, does this meet with your approval?"

"No, I want him to be able to see his math and science books. Do something with the bangs."

I heard the scissors as they ground through the thick hair. My first thought, "My god, the bastard is cutting them off at my hairline. This has to be the worst haircut in the history of the world."

COL Sparks spoke up. "That’s much better. Now show him what he looks like."

I literally thought I was going to barf when I saw myself. Not only did I have a bowl cut (or mushroom cut, if you prefer) it was the most poorly cut thing I’d ever seen. I actually thought, "Thank god Joni won’t be able to see this." (Joni was the hottie who had cut my hair for years.)

The bangs were chopped to hell, and didn’t even go all the way across my forehead. He had cut them off basically between the pupils of my eyes, and I had about a three-inch hole to peer through. He had left the longer hair on either side.

Where he had attempted to shave the back and sides had small clumps of longer hair still growing out of my head, and a few strands that were the original length. The remaining stubble was patchy. Smooth scalp mixed with fuzzy spots and the few long strands. It was horrendous, much worse than just a bowl cut. It was a gapped up, sloppy, despicable mess.

To make matters worse, my ears were bigger than I remembered. They seemed to stick out at least six inches on either side of my head.

I couldn’t help it. Tears rolled down my face. All of my handsomeness had disappeared, and I looked like a freak.

SGT Gonzales broke out into laughter. "Let me take a picture. I want to put this on our website. That’s the worst haircut…ever!

More tears leaked out of my eyes, but I growled, "You wouldn’t dare!"

He laughed. "I would dare. You can bet your sweet ass that a very large picture of you will be the first thing anyone sees when they visit our website." He gave an evil cackle. "I will show you right before you go to bed. I want you to have something to think about while you try to go to sleep."

I looked at the colonel. "You bastard. I told you things in confidence, and now you’re using them against me? I will get you for this!"

"You’re damned straight I’m going to use every word you said against you. You will regret the day you ever talked to me." He looked away. "SGT Gonzales, did you just hear this creature threaten me?"

"Sir, I did."

"Take his picture. Hell, take a bunch of them, and post a view of all sides."

I fought them when they tried to take my picture, but Col Sparks got me locked in his arms, and I couldn’t get away from him. They took some pictures, and I eventually quit struggling. I stood there with my head bowed as they continued snapping. Colonel Sparks finally released the choke hold he had on me.

After releasing me, COL Sparks made sure his uniform was in place.

The final insult was when the sergeant lifted my head, and took a full frontal shot. I really wished I could die of shame..but I managed to glare at him with all the hatred I felt for him.

After he was finished taking pictures, I stood there, trying to catch my breath. For some reason, I reached up, and felt my almost shorn neck. I shivered, when I felt the roughness of the shaved part. Despite knowing what it looked like, it felt good. Very good, even with the missed patches of longer hair in there. I couldn’t believe it when I thought, "I can’t wait for them to cut my hair again, so my whole neck will feel like this."

COL Sparks looked at me expectantly, and said, "How does that feel?"

I thought, "He’s wanting me to hate it, so I’ll throw him for a loop."

"SIR, it’s not bad. I’m surprised, it feels pretty good."

He got an "Ah-ha" look. "You’ll find that after about three days you miss that freshly shorn feeling, and will be wanting to go back to the barber."

I thought, "Damn, I missed that one. He wanted me to like it, and fell right into it. Be careful, Brent. You don’t know what this sneaky bastard is up to."

I shook my head. "Sir, hell will freeze over first."

He looked at SGT Gonzales. "Go issue him his ‘uniform’ and then accompany him to the dig pit." I was puzzled by the emphasis he put on the word "uniform".

He looked at me. "You will dig a three by three hole that measures exactly three feet deep before you are allowed to eat. The sides of the hole have to be smooth, and the floor level. Do you understand?"

I glared at him, but was able to keep my temper under control. "SIR, yes sir."

"I would suggest you wear gloves. If you don’t, your soft hands will be so blistered that you won’t be able to hold a fork."

"One more thing, Cadet Greene."

"Sir?"

"Just to forewarn you. If you decide to pull any antics, I’m going to tell you what your punishment will be. For the first transgression, we will shave a two-inch hole right here." He touched the crown of my head. "After you have this circle in your hair, you will be required to shave it every two hours. IF you are one second late getting the shaving cream applied to your bald site, the diameter will be increased one inch. Soon, you will look like a Byzantine monk."

"If you have too many misdeeds, we will eventually run out of hair, but will leave you with a full MPB with a fringe around the edge that you will have to shave every two hours, both day and night, until I get tired of seeing you looking that way. You will be the laughingstock of the campus. Are we clear?"

"Sir, yes sir."

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