You're saddened to have to cut away Lisa's beautiful new hair, but you're even more sad for Lisa's plight. You slowly slide off the bed, sinking your feet into the soft pool of hair that spreads across the floor. It feels much better than a carpet, but it's slippery. You walk carefully across the room and push some hair out of the way so you can open the door.
It doesn't take you long to find a pair of scissors in the kitchen. You return to Lisa and sit on the bed behind her. You gather her hair in your left hand, holding it at her neck. Thinking about it, you slide your hand down a ways, so that at least she'll be left with a pretty waist-length style.
"Okay, you'll be free in two seconds." You bring the scissors up to the bundle of hair and start to snip.
The scissors jam on the hair. You spread out the clump in your fist so you can work it a little at a time. You snip again, and again the scissors jam. You try to push the blades closed with all of your strength, but they just won't cut. When you take the scissors away, you see that the hair you tried to cut is completely undamaged.
"Well? I don't hear any clipping," Lisa says.
"You're not going to believe this," you say. "Well...maybe you will, considering how unbelievable this already is..."
"Spit it out!" she snaps. Her tone suggests she's already guessed your problem.
"It can't be cut. I think it's because part of me wants you to keep it."
Lisa takes the scissors from you and grabs a lock of her hair. She tries to cut it, but her attempt is as fruitless as yours. She tries several times anyway.
Then Lisa grunts loudly and slams the scissors down on the bed. She throws the lock of hair behind her shoulder violently, but her motions only cause more hair to slip around her other shoulder and cover half her face in a rust-colored curtain. Her head falls and her posture droops. It sounds like she's trying to hold back tears.
You put your hands on her shoulders and press against her. You again feel the softness of her hair between you. "Hey, hey...it's gonna be fine. I'll go and find thing in the note and fix this."
"I'm going to help you," Lisa says resolutely.
"But your hair," you say. "You can't even leave this room without having to drag tons of it around."
"We'll figure something out. We'll bag it up. We'll put it in a wheelbarrow if we have to, but I am NOT going to stay in this bed just because of some STUPID hair fetish my boyfriend has."
"Okay," you say, admiring her conviction. Lisa had never been the helpless damsel type, and you're somewhat ashamed you assumed she would take up that role now. You look around at the hair covering every square inch of the bedroom. It will take time, and a lot of effort, but it's Lisa's lovely long hair and you still find it beautiful. "Okay, let's get this mess straightened out!"