Lucky Luke: Unlucky Hair Day! by Hamed Bezani

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Lucky Luke has been the subject of all kinds of jokes before, from bizarre parodies to stories that put unusual emphasis on his clothes, physique, and the bulge in his trousers.

But besides all that, this time we are going to focus on something that apparently nobody has paid attention to for years

That ridiculous, useless forelock on Lucky Luke's head!

Seriously, what does a tall, skinny, lonely cowboy who spends almost his entire life wandering around deserts, small towns, ruins, and outlaws' hideouts, constantly getting into fights with punks and criminals, need a forelock like that for?

Nothing!

It has no particular use, it serves no purpose in the life of a wandering cowboy, and it doesn't even add anything to his skills.

It is just an extra piece of hair that has remained on Luke's head for years without any good reason.

Of course, Luke himself has no idea about any of this.

And this is the story of the day when one small, stupid piece of bad luck finally caused him to lose that useless forelock.

A Little Bad Luck

One day, Lucky Luke, together with his funny Chinese kung-fu friend, was chasing several criminals. They had entered an abandoned workshop filled with scrap metal, building materials, old tools, and broken machinery.

Right at the beginning of the chase, a strong gust of wind blew Luke's hat off his head and carried it away.

Luke watched his hat for a moment as it disappeared into the distance.

Then he shrugged and continued the chase.

A few minutes later, as usual, several gunshots, a few well-timed dodges, several martial-arts moves from his kung-fu friend, and a few precise shots from Luke were enough to bring all the criminals down one by one.

While trying to escape, one of them lost his balance and fell with a loud crash into a cement mixer.

SPLAT!

Some of the cement flew everywhere.

A few moments later, the poor criminal, with his entire body covered in dried cement, had turned into a living statue that could still blink.

Calmly, Luke picked up the criminal-statue as well and took him, along with the rest of the captured criminals, to the police station.

Everything had gone so smoothly and successfully, as usual, that Luke never noticed that a few drops and small pieces of the splattered cement had landed right on his forelock.

Something on Luke's Head

After handing over the criminals, Luke and his friend mounted their horses again and rode off.

A few minutes passed.

Luke felt something strange.

His forelock was bouncing up and down more than usual as he rode.

He reached up and touched it.

It was heavy.

Much heavier than normal.

Luke said in surprise

"What the hell is this?"

His friend looked at Luke's head too.

The two of them looked at each other for a few moments.

Then his friend laughed.

"I think something's stuck to your hair."

Luke ran his hand over his forelock again.

Now it was obvious that something was tangled up in his hair.

They continued on their way, completely unaware that the cement had hardened solid in his hair, with some of it even stuck close to his scalp.

Luke suddenly remembered that, during the fight, one of the criminals had laughed several times while looking at his head.

At the time, he had assumed they were just angry about losing.

But now he realized there had probably been another reason.

The Barbershop

Near sunset, they reached a fairly deserted town.

They rode through several streets until they finally spotted an old barbershop.

Luke went inside.

The barber was a fat man who stared at Luke's head for several seconds when he saw it.

Then he stepped closer and examined his forelock.

"What the hell is that?"

Luke said unhappily

"I don't know. Something got stuck in my hair while I was chasing those criminals."

The barber touched his hair several times and examined it more carefully.

"It's cement."

Luke frowned.

"Cement?"

"Yeah. And unfortunately, you waited too long. It's completely hardened."

The barber tried to separate a few strands of hair.

No luck.

Then he tried a comb.

Still no luck.

He shook his head.

"There's no other way. I'm going to have to cut your hair."

Luke's kung-fu friend, who still had his own straight, neat hair, stood beside the chair.

The barber glanced at his hair and said

"You're lucky nothing got stuck in that beautiful straight hair of yours. That would've been a real shame."

Annoyed by this s**tty bit of bad luck, Luke sat down in the barber's chair.

"Fine. Just get it over with."

The barber switched on the clippers.

ZZZZZZZZZZ

The vibration of the clippers against Luke's scalp filled the room.

Luke looked at himself in the mirror.

The barber ran the clippers up the side of his head.

A lock of hair fell onto the barber's cape.

Then another.

And another.

Luke slowly watched his hair disappearing in the mirror.

His kung-fu friend stared at the scene with a surprised, slightly ridiculous expression. He put one hand on his own straight hair and occasionally smoothed it down, as if unconsciously making sure it was still all there.

The clippers moved up both sides of Luke's head.

The hair on the sides and back gradually disappeared.

Then the barber moved higher.

Now Luke's hair was almost entirely confined to the upper and front part of his head.

Luke looked at himself in the mirror.

His face no longer looked the same as it had a few minutes earlier.

But one thing was still there.

His famous forelock.

The barber stared at it for several seconds.

Luke stared at it in the mirror too.

That little forelock was the only hair he had left.

The barber lowered the clippers.

There was a brief silence.

Then he smiled.

"What are we going to do with this one?"

Luke said anxiously

"Leave that one."

The barber said nothing.

He simply switched the clippers back on.

ZZZZZZZZZZ!

In one quick movement, the clippers passed over the forelock.

Luke's famous forelock fell to the floor in pieces.

That was it.

For several seconds, Luke simply stared at himself in the mirror.

Now his head was completely shaved, leaving only a short, even layer of rough, sandpaper-like stubble covering his oval-shaped head.

Luke slowly ran his hand over his head.

KHHHHHHHH

A strange shiver ran through his body.

His friend stepped forward and curiously touched Luke's freshly shaved head.

Then he ran his own hand over his straight hair and looked at Luke's head again.

The barber noticed how unhappy Luke was and tried to reassure him

"Look, you're a tall, skinny, lonely cowboy wandering around the damn frontier. You can do whatever the hell you want, you're living your own life, so what the hell do you need hair for?"

Luke looked at his reflection in the mirror again.

A tall, skinny, lonely cowboy in cowboy clothes, without his hat and with a completely shaved head.

Then he shrugged.

"Maybe you're right."

Luke and his friend left the barbershop.

Recapturing the Daltons

They spent the night in the same town.

The next morning, they heard that the Daltons had escaped again.

Luke, his kung-fu friend, and their horses headed for the Daltons' hideout.

As usual, a few minutes later, gunshots rang out inside an abandoned building.

A few precise shots.

A few martial-arts moves.

A few failed attempts to escape.

And in the end, all four Daltons were in chains again.

When the Daltons looked up and saw Luke, they suddenly burst out laughing.

There was no way they could ignore Luke's newly shaved, oval-shaped head, covered in short, rough stubble. They were laughing so hard they were clutching their bellies and collapsing onto the ground.

The shortest Dalton, who was also the nastiest of the bunch, said through his laughter

"Luke! What happened to your hair? Did the wind blow it away?"

Luke said nothing.

He simply marched them, all tied up, toward the jail.

When they arrived at the jail, the jailer was delighted to see Luke and all four Daltons in chains.

He hugged Luke and said

"My dear friend! You did an excellent job. Ever since I've known you, your skills haven't changed a bit. You haven't changed at all!"

One of the Daltons muttered

"Haven't changed at all just gotten a little bald!"

Another one said

"Lucky Luke had a little bit of bad luck!"

All four Daltons burst into laughter again.

Luke's kung-fu friend scratched his own head in a funny way, messing up his straight hair a little.

Luke slowly ran his hand over his rough head.

This time, he just smiled.

"A cowboy doesn't need hair."

The Daltons laughed again.

Luke handed them over to the jailer and walked out of the building.

A few minutes later, he mounted Jolly Jumper.

His kung-fu friend mounted his own horse as well.

The two of them rode away from the town along the dusty road.

The wind blew again.

Luke instinctively put his hand on his head.

This time, there was nothing left to move in the wind.

His famous forelock was gone forever.

And strangely enough

Lucky Luke was still lucky.

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