RIP my mullet.
You served me well, loyal friend. but when I couldn't get a comb through you today I realised it was time to end our relationship. I feel bad that I left you on the cold, hard floor of Hardye Barbers in Dorchester with all the other unwanted strands, but I'm afraid it had to be done. We have known each other since school and I will miss you deeply. I shall now try to embark on my life mullet-free and (almost) of employable appearance. Adios.