I eventually found a small shop with a simple sign reading "Hair". I entered, hoping that they would be able to help with the itching, which was really getting unbearable. I entered, and found the proprietor busily rearranging his balms and ointments. There were no other customers, and it didn't seem that there had been for some time. "Excuse me," I asked, "do you perhaps have something that might stop my hairpiece from itching?"
The man looked at me, as if startled by my question. "A hairpiece? Not a Hair piece?" he asked. "Um, yes, a hairpiece. Can you help me? Please, it's getting quite bad. May I sit down for a moment?" He gestured broadly at the chair, smiling. "I thought you were the one, you know, but then you started talking all funny. I guess you can't be too careful." He deftly removed my hairpiece. "Wait!" I protested. "I just want something to control the itching!" I tried to get up, but I was held fast in the chair by an invisible force.
The owner bent over, breathing warmly into my ear. "It's Their Way or the Hair Way. Which do you choose? Whose side are you on? You came here for a reason. You might not even have known it. But you came nonetheless." I tried to speak, but I could not. He began massaging something into my scalp. The itching stopped immediately, and it felt like my brain was warming up. "When the Hair comes, you will understand. You have been chosen both for what you are, and what you will be." He placed a mask over my face, and I lost consciousness.