Kilroy Gets a Haircut

By He Who Ruins Pizza

Immortal do-gooder Kilroy hates getting his haircut at the best of times. So when he gets the worst haircut of his life he'll go to any length to not only get a new hairstyle, but to make sure he'll never have to sit in a barber chair ever again. Kilroy Gets a Haircut pits the long lived defender of reality against a uber powerful Wizard, a sneaky Elfling, and quartet of barber surgeons out for blood, literally. It's high fantasy, it's comedy, it's Kilroy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: He Who Ruins Pizza
• Release date: Feb 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005950019

He Who Ruins Pizza

He Who Ruins Pizza is a Canadian Sci-fi/Fantasy/Comedy writer. As such he is incredibly boring and other than having a wildly bizarre imagination has almost no other deserning or interesting qualities about him.Kilroy may be an immortal well over 10,000 years old and lived through dozens of Realms but all and all he's not that different from the rest of us. He likes sunsets, good food, plentiful drink, and he hates his job! Kilroy's work takes him from blood-soaked battlefields, reeking sewers, and haunted castles where he comes up against wizards, dragons, or whatever else the current Realm has to throw at him.

Book preview

Introduction

Kilroy was here. Kilroy was there. Kilroy has been almost everywhere, but who is Kilroy?

An immortal warrior from a far away Realm, it’s been Kilroy’s job over his very long life to protect all the Realms of Reality from the forces of evil, so the next time you get stuck in traffic during your commute at least be happy Goblins won’t be hurling spears at you all day, unless you’ve done something terrible to upset your co-workers!

Kilroy Gets a Haircut

Of all the barbers-shops in all of Ithazel there was no finer than Trom's. It was the first business in the bustling desert metropolis to have a large display window made of crystal clear plate glass with the family name and a crossed razor and shears proudly embossed in large gold figures across it. Passersby would stand outside watching in amazement as the barbers worked their trade.

Pity it had to be replaced after Kilroy smashed through it onto the busy street beyond. The immortal warrior had passed through many a window in this fashion before in the innumerable Realms he had traversed, but rarely had he done it to himself, and so forcefully too.

Normally Kilroy was accustomed to using the door like any normal being, but as he shook the shards of glass from his heavy leather riding cape he turned back to the open window frame and saw the hulking figure that had caused him to hurl himself through the plate glass in the first place.

'Please,' pleaded Kilroy. 'I only wanted a haircut.'

'I'll cut your hair,' said the brute as he stepped through the now broken window frame and into the street, ignoring the startled crowd of people who had begun to gather outside his shop. 'But, first and foremost; you've got too much blood!'

The mad brute stood seven feet tall with broad thick hairy arms with hands that looked like they could easily crush a desert-pumpkin; currently each held onto a humongous razor leech. Each leech was over a foot long, and squiggled excitedly gnawing at the air with their sharp mandibles in anticipation of the bloody meal to come.

'Haircut,' Kilroy mumbled to himself as he pushed through the small crowd and ran down the tall narrow streets trying to lose himself in the old city.

The mad barber gave a whoop of laughter, 'Think you can outrun Trom? I bleed myself five times a day. I'm lighter than I look!' as he nimbly launched himself into pursuit.

In the rest of the Realm a plague had raged relatively unchecked leaving many businesses closed and people sheltering in their homes for fear of their very lives. Although many of the glyphs that were carved into Kilroy's bones and soul were there to protect him from disease, he had absolutely no glyphs that would give him a haircut.

For four months Kilroy, believing the disease to be mystical in nature, had been searching high and low for the source of the malady, but had to give up the chase after his hair had grown so long, unruly, and distracting that he'd nearly been eaten by a bug-bear.

Kilroy had come to Ithazel, in the middle of the great Mhirr'riss Desert where multiple trade routes met. The city was built inside an ancient crater from a meteor impact eons ago, long before Kilroy had arrived on the scene. The buildings rose many stories to be level with the surrounding flat