I have this oddball whisker. It’s on my face, but way high up, nearly at the top of my cheekbone. There are no other whiskers anywhere near it. Is it lonely? Is it an outcast? Shunned from whisker society for some transgression? Do the younger whiskers treat it with a combination of fear and derision, while their elder whiskers say to leave it alone, it’s not hurting anyone?
Or is it an explorer, one who felt a calling away from the chin area, who seeks new pastures? Has it convinced the Queen whisker that there is a better trade route over the top of my head and it is now making this landmark journey? What will it do when it discovers that this new world is already inhabited by hairs - giant hairs many times larger than itself! How will this culture clash be resolved? Will the hair on the top of my head wage war against these interlopers from the southern hemisphere? Will the chin whiskers seek to bring their gospel of shortness to the long pagans? Who will the sideburns support, being squarely in the middle of this conflict?
Could be worse. It could make its way down South to the land of Short and Curlies only to end it’s life like so many of them do…laying lifeless on the toilet bowl seat, waiting to be blown into the Great Sea and flushed to eternity.
To make it there, it would have to get through the realm of the chest hairs. Although their numbers are few and their ways nomadic, they are a proud people.
I have a very detailed picture of all of this burned into my brain. I picture the lone whisker as a intrepid (but very skinny) Whisker lad, boldly setting out across the great desert of the upper cheek, skirting the Forest of Sideburns. His quest is to find the Land of Giant Whiskers–called Hair in the myths of the Whisker people–to see if they really exist, and if they can help the Whisker people in their on-going struggle against the dreaded razor. The Chest Hair people, as Legomancer pointed out, are nomadic, staying stictly away from the fallen race of Armpit Hair, and guarding their domain against incursions by marauding bands of Back Hair. The Short and Curlies are a gentle people, seeking only to be left in peace to engage in their private games of love, but can be quite daring when aroused. The races of Arm Hair and Leg Hair are merely legends; none know if they exist or what manner of hair they be.
I have heard that on the other side of the Land of The Short and Curlies beyond the valley of no return lie the twin hills of posteria where the exiles of hairdom are sent to live as animals without comb or conditioner.