Bruce
“Ow!” I exclaimed in pain as Barry pulled out a strand of hair from my eyebrows.
"Sorry," he mumbled against my face. "There's a way this works," he said, taking out some gray dye and carefully coloring a few of my eyebrow hairs. "You have to look the part. You don’t have nearly enough wrinkles, so it's gonna be bad for you. Well, not bad for me." He pointed at his chest, standing back in the plane, rubbing his chin. "On the bright side, you already have a few wrinkles—not the kind that makes you look old, though, more like... seasoned."
I raised an eyebrow at him, questioning. "Seasoned?"
"Well, yeah, seasoned," Barry said, almost as if reading my mind. "The thing is, boss, if you look too young or too handsome, the average person’s gonna know that you’re, well... not normal."
