Very educational and informative material for history students from the perspective of the regular person, free for all. This is about the true story of The Wall Street Crash that ended The Roaring Twenties, eventually lead to The Great Depression.
Shinya stepped into the Salon with his 1920s feather boa and his flapper hat. The floor was incredibly chequered with chunks of dollar bills scattered within the tiles. He looked up to see a woman who looked like a child with no hair on her head. Shinya was truly horrified.
He couldn't hold himself back as he exclaimed, "How could you run a salon when you lack the hair necessary!" She stared, her crimson optics staring severely at him with disgust.
"You are one to talk Sugar, that hair is something else."
Shinya suddenly felt incredibly insecure. How could she insult his hair? He already knew it looked bad, and now he was only more insecure. So much for the best salon in the world of New York. His insecurity had grown so much, he considered whether or not he should get a lobotomy.
"How rude you are bald one. I heard you were the best out there but apparently I'll have to leave a one star review on yelp.20s@thefuture.com."
"I have to apologise for being so mean, my brother died last night. He got runover by a red Chevy Rolls Royce. His name was Ashera Asuramaru Tepes. He was such an icon no one could tell which gender he was."
As Shinya peered outside the polished window panes of the salon, he spotted his red Chevy Rolls Royce, which was parked directly outside the salon, supporting some almighty dents in the bonnet of the car alongside the smashed window. In fact, there was a lock of weirdly purple hair smushed between the front wheels. He prayed Krul the bold bald one would not notice.
Krul followed his gaze blankly before suddenly gesturing towards the strange contraption sitting in the corner.
"Sit. This will fix your hair I promise."
Shinya sat down in the metal contraption, and sat tensely as Krul placed a metal bowl on top of his head. She pressed a lot of buttons and it seemed to be working fine. Then after a few moments, Shinya found his hairs evacuating from the confederacy of his scalp. This was majorly against the constitution. "My hair is leaving my head! This is not working!" Krul's un-ocean optics glared down at the incredibly silver haired man. "This is what took my hair, such an unfortunate turn of fate. Now this fate shall befall upon you. This is what happens when you deck and annihilate people's brothers with a red Chevy Rolls Royce!"
Travis stormed through the ceiling. "Krul, you're under arrest for the hoarding of moonshine through the prohibition. There are reports of you drinking shampoo, but it wasn't shampoo was it? No! It was unbranded champagne." He grabbed a shampoo bottle and chugged the whole thing down. Unfortunately, it was shampoo. Thankfully, he freed Shinya from the horrific contraption, and managed to salvage the few hairs left on his head, as well as some of the ones on the floor. Shinya decided he would just force Guren to invest in some strong hair growth products when he got home. He had enough glue to glue the other ones back on.
"Well, he murdered my brother with his stupid red Chevy Rolls Royce! Why aren't you arresting him?"
"There's no evidence for this claim of yours." Travis said, as he walked past the severely bloodied and dented red Chevy Rolls Royce lay graciously in the sunlight.
Shinya then returned home where he semi-successfully fixed his hair. He briefly considered opening up his own salon, but ended up deciding he didn't want to risk the baldness that came along with it.
With Ferid and Crowley in the Hackett tunnels
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"God dammit Lacus!" yelled Lacus.
"You dropped the rum!" exclaimed Travis Hackett.
Noble Ferid stepped up, "No worries humanity! Rum tastes more gracious when it has been trodden upon for many decades and contains the nutritious vitamin that is glass chunks~"
Crowley glided past Lacus, and due to his buff-ness, Lacus unceremoniously bounced off his raging abs. Crowley was carrying all of the rum. Lacus, on the other hand, had been entrusted with only one bottle, yet he had dropped it. How sad.
Crowley galivanted up the stairs, his ocean optics picking up the sound of federal footsteps. "I'll hold off the feds and you guys run!" Travis stepped up majestically, "No! I am one of them, I'll do it." Travis took one for the team and arose from the depths of the Hackett tunnels. That is when he saw the crystallised body of Lest Karr trapped, and knew he couldn't afford to let his peers gaze down upon such an unfortunate form. He mustered up all his almighty Hackett power and threw Lest Karr's crystallised body down the stairs into the smashed bottle of rum on the floor. He began to uncrystallised in the rum, and as he gained consciousness, he realised he had committed an unconstitutional crime of underage drinking. The shock and horror of gazing up to see noble Ferid, Lacus and Crowley caused him to dive deep within the Hackett tunnels, never to be seen again.
After a few haggling Hackett minutes, Travis informed the squadron that he had cleared their names off the federal records, and the smuggling could be continued. The Hackett tunnels were safe, for now.
