Long ago, the hair kingdom, a place that once teemed with life, the streets were full of color and vibrancy. 

 

Nestled within the Omega Sector’s fringes, the hair kingdom was birthed from humble origins, evolving from the slums into a realm where the love for hair bloomed into something extraordinary.

 

While the rest of the Omega Sector may have overlooked the hair kingdom, its inhabitants embraced their unique identity. 

 

With their passion for all things hair, they transformed the slums into a haven for those who cherished their locks. 

 

In this overlooked corner of the city, barber shops flourished, adorned with intricate designs and adorned mirrors. 

 

Skilled stylists meticulously shaped and crafted hair into wondrous works of art, transforming the mundane into the extraordinary.

 

But it wasn't just about the artistry of hair. 

 

The people of the hair kingdom had a rebellious spirit that blended seamlessly with their adoration for their tresses. 

 

They rode their prized motorcycles, known as War Horses, through the streets, their hair flowing freely in the wind as they showcased their individuality. 

 

These motorcycles were not merely vehicles but an extension of their identity, a symbol of their defiance against conformity.

 

To celebrate their love for hair and the thrill of the ride, grand events were organized, where motorcycles raced through the city's winding streets. 

 

The objective was not merely to win the race but to preserve the integrity of their hair, ensuring that each strand remained unencumbered and untouched by the wind. 

 

It was a test of skill, bravery, and the ability to navigate treacherous obstacles while preserving their cherished locks.

 

Spectators lined the streets, cheering with fervor as the racers blazed past, their hair billowing behind them like colorful banners. 

 

Within the confines of the hair kingdom, people found solace and a sense of belonging. 

 

But alas, the vibrant tapestry of the hair kingdom would soon face the encroaching darkness. 

 

Kuska and his bald men in suits emerged, casting a shadow over this once-thriving community.

 

Their attack on the hair kingdom threatened to strip away its essence, leaving behind a landscape of hairless men, women, and children.

 

A mighty battle roared throughout the streets, as War Horses hummed their engines as they would charge into battle.

 

The war had brought unforeseen gifts such as the unification of the various hair kingdom clans, but it wasn’t enough to prevent the utter annihilation of the alliance. 

 

Four emperors of the hair kingdom stood in mighty defiance, but as their hair conditioners and hair treatment oils dwindled from the blockade employed by Kuska, so too did their strengths.

 

What was worse was that in their final moments, one man by the name of Black Beard, realizing the outcome of the conflict, betrayed his clan along with the alliance.

 

He submitted to Kuska, forfeiting his hair, but keeping his mighty beard.

 

The shock of this act left the remaining forces in utter despair, resulting in a disorderly retreat, leaving many hair shaved.

 

And yet, Black Beard perhaps out of guilt or fear, gave his only son two his good friend White Beard hoping that his son could be saved from this carnage.

 

The son was none other than Beer Beard.

 

>>>

 

(Back To Present)

 

On the desolate rooftop of the towering Sword, the air hung heavy with anguish and despair. 

White Beard, his once mighty presence now reduced to a frail figure, bore the scars of brutal torture inflicted by the treacherous hands of Potato. 

 

His body quivered with pain, his spirit dwindling.

 

Beside White Beard, Black Beard stood, his imposing frame casting a formidable shadow. 

 

The remorse etched upon his face was a stark contrast to the darkness that surrounded him. 

 

He gazed at the old master, his voice heavy with regret. "It was a mistake, White Beard… You should’ve never brought Beer Beard here."

 

White Beard, his weary eyes meeting Black Beard's gaze, shook his head weakly.

 

Realizing that the Black Beard from long ago had now long since disappeared.

 

As their somber exchange echoed through the rooftop, a distant voice drifted on the wind, growing louder with each passing moment. 

 

“Ol’ man!”

 

“Ol’ MAN!”

 

It was Beer Beard, his voice filled with urgency and desperation, calling out for his old master.

 

The sound reverberated through the silence, stirring emotions that had long lain dormant.

 

White Beard's eyes widened, a mix of disbelief and joy intertwining within them. 

 

Tears welled up, tracing dripped down his weathered cheeks. "Beer Beard?... BEER BEARD!" he choked out, his voice quivering with a bittersweet tenderness. 

 

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry Beer Beard, but you must run. Run and save yourself!" The old master yelled.

 

The weight of the moment hung heavily in the air as Beer Beard's voice drew nearer.

 

White Beard's frail form trembled as he reached out, his fingers stretching toward the edge of the rooftop, yearning to touch the young warrior who had become his kin.

 

“ARGH!” (CRASH!) White Beard screamed in pain as his body slowly fell from the tower.

 

Black Beard spoke, his voice dominating the entire area, while holding his spiked bat, the Street Maker,  “Welcome home, my son… Beer Beard…”

 

(SPLAT!)

 

The body of White Beard crashed into the concrete floor spewing his guts and blood all around the area.

 

It was a harrowing sight, Beer Beard who quickly knelt beside the old master quickly averted his eyes upon seeing that his beard had been forcibly ripped out, leaving numerous red dots.

 

“Agh! Shit!..” Beer Beard commented, horrified at the sight.

 

With a final, tearful glance, Beer Beard mustered to gently lay down the old master, then proceeded to cover the face with a rag. 

 

Suppressing his urge to cry, Beer Beard stood back up, using his arms to wipe his eyes.

 

Surrounding Beer Beard and Bottle were numerous hair hunters with haunting gazes from their sunglasses and almost expressionless faces.

 

Up above, he could hear laughter coming from none other than Potato.

 

“Hah ha haha ha! you should look at your faces! Its too guud ja!”

 

Back below General Bottle was accessing the situation, biting his thumb as if contemplating on their chances of success.

 

(Sniff)

 

Seeing Beer Beard wipe his face, Bottle spoke, “Done crying Beer Beard?”

 

Beer Beard quickly responded back, “Beer Beard don’t cry! T-thes just eye sweat!”

 

Bottle’s eyes quickly scan the hair hunters once more, “Good, cause I for one don’t want to be bald…”

 

(Humf!) (Hick) “That makes two of us. Just follow mah lead.”

 

After taking one last deep breath Beer Beard poses with his arms crossed, and screams as loud as possible.

 

“AS I WHOOP THEIR ASS! WHOA BABY!!”

 

>>>