And so ends the story of Oz's hair. We hope you've found profound morals and meanings in the tale, and you now see why it is important to pay the spikes proper homage.
The boy known as Oz grew up, and though he was slightly vertically challenged, he was a zealous young man. He was of great intelligence, he could keep tune on a guitar, and he had many groopies. But the most profound achievement of the lad was his hair. The boy had spectacular red hair that miraculously changed colors and shades almost every day. The hair was dark red, then brown, then blond-red, then back to dark red again. It was always perfectly spiked with just the right amount of gel; not too much, never too little. His hair was the envy of many a teen in the 'Dale.
But Oz had a problem. Even though he had many a groupie, great smarts, and the most magnificent hair in the land, he could not find a mate who's hair was worthy of his own. The boy was not conceited, but he didn't want to cheapen the excellence that was his hair by dating someone who looked like their tresses had neer been graced by a brush. He searched high and low, but, alas, all seemed lost.
Then one night, while the lad was playing in his band, he saw a girl with fiery red hair that peaked out from an eskimo hood. So entranced and impressed was he with her that he nearly forgot the chord he was playing. He vowed he would find out who the mystery girl was.
Oz finally met the girl, Willow Rosenberg, face to face. He charmed her with his politeness, his extensive knowledge of finger food, and, of course, his hair.
Months passed, and Oz and Willow began to date. Oz was overjoyed that he had finally found tresses that were worthy of his, and Willow was honored to date one with hair as great as Oz's. All was right with the world.
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