The hairdresser sighed, slamming down the shears.
“You didn’t tell me you had Hydras.”
“I don’t!” the Medusa promised..
“You have Hydras, Deliah, not snakes.”
The woman moaned and put her head in her hands, the stumpy, decapitated “snakes” growing back, now with two heads where there were one.
“You’ve got to go to a special hairdresser.”
“I just want a few less snakes!”
“You don’t have snakes, you’ve got Hydras. Is your Mother a Hydra?”
“My mother is a Naga, thanks.”
“I’m not saying it to be racist, I don’t have an issue with Hydras. My best friend is a Hydra.”
“…do you have any proof? Do you have a photo?”
The hairdresser Medusa shrugged, her frenzy of yellow snakes twisting themselves up into a hissy mohawk, then falling.
“Who do you recommend?”
“Any of the ladies at Heracles can hook you up. They’ve got special shears.” her snakes french braided themselves, then let themselves go, swirling into an up-do.
Deliah’s Hydras, her tiny Hydras, roared and spit some fire.
“Oh shit!” the Medusa said, backing up. “I’d get there right away!”
“Are they not supposed to do that?”
“Look honey… I do snakes and I do hair and sometimes I do Harpy Acrylics, okay? I am not qualified.”
Deliah got up, pouting. “I’m sorry Kida.”
“Mm hm.” the Medusa said, rounding her customer cautiously as the Hydras kept shooting fire. “Maybe they’re really dragons!”
Deliah dug in her purse. “Here, let me give you a tip.” She held out some bills and before Kida could grab them, the Hydra set them on fire.
They looked at each other and Deliah just left.
She had to get to Heracles right away.