Dress code

Color began to vanish from my face as the guards gazed down at me. They really were far more intimidating up close, likely due to the size difference between us. But it was the monster behind me I was more worried about. I needed to think quick if I didn't want to end up beaten to a pulp.

"Uh, orange ape man. He said to contact us here for business, ook ook?"

The dark shades the guards wore made it difficult to tell what their eyes were doing, but they ever so slightly eased up.

"Mr. Ookley. Yes, he made mention of visitors," one of the guards mumbled.

Crisis averted!

"HOWEVER, we can't permit entry to you as is."

I could hear the explosion of fury behind me, so I quickly attempted to find out why we couldn't enter.

"Dress code. You two don't fit it."

"Huh? Dafuck you dissin' bout my duds!?" Ivy snarled as she shoved me aside and stared up at the guards.

Rich that you're saying that. You're a walking talking hot mess of a dress code violation. Though, I guess she does have a point. Those converse and baggy pants she's always sporting are pretty swagger. Her bra-top might be passable as high-end too if it weren't for the splotches of spray tan staining it's edges. But everything else, the gyaru-brand spray tan, the twintailed dreads, the gyaru makeup, dress code violation.

As for me, I think my attire is at least permissible enough. Leather jacket, leather skirt, and my swagger vans would be considered formal attire in some places. The plain white tank-top's the weakest part of the set, but I'm pretty sure business men and women wear plain undershirts so it should be fine. Worst case scenario, I run to the store and buy a business dress.

"Your attire... is permissible," the guard grumbled.

"Then move aside-"

"But you will need to clean up your image if you wish to enter our establishment."

Ivy's back was to me, so I couldn't see how contorted her face had become, and I didn't want to. But of course, she sensed my plan to escape and reached back her arm, latching onto my shoulder and digging the claws she calls her nails into my flesh.

There was no escaping, so I decided to just suck it up and press for more details. "What do we need to change about our images?"

"Hair."

"Just our hair?"

"Correct."

Wow, they're giving the spray tan a pass? Weird. But why is my hair getting categorized the same as miss bitch's dye-damaged dreads? I mean, It is dyed, so maybe that's it. Places can be pretty picky when it comes to dying your hair.

"Dafuck's wrong with my hair, huh?" Ivy snarled, making the problem worse.

"It's there. Our company has a zero-hair policy," the guard stated.

"Um, we're not here for a job interview just business-"

"The code applies to employees and visitors. No hair, no eyebrows, no eyelashes, or no service and entry. Though we'll be lenient with the eyelashes and permit you to enter even if you trim them down as short as you can."

Big HELL NO! Sorry world, you're fucked.

"Huh? You telling me to shave my fucking head?" Ivy snarled.

"Correct."

"I'M A GIRL, YOU HAIRLESS FUCKING RAT SLAVE!"

"And our company believes in equality. Man or woman, you want entry, shave that spray-tanned head of yours cleaner than Mr. Glean. Same goes for you too, goth girl. No smooth scalp, no entry."

Shit, he called me out, meaning my second attempt at escape is foiled and in her rage, Ivy's gonna make sure I'm beaten unconscious before dragging me off to some back alley salon to get shaved. Then again, I forgot she already had a hand digging into my shoulder, guess the intense pain caused it to numb or something. So maybe, she won't take me attempting to walk in the opposite direction as-

"Machi's Makeover Mall. Book a fucking appointment and have that whore turn you into an ugly bald freak."

Well, at least she's not beating me up...

As I was released from the claw, the guard suddenly stopped me before I could head off. "We require proof of baldness, so you'll need to provide video or photographic proof of your bald state."

"Um, what?"

"He means ya gotta film yourselves goin' from hot n' sexy, to bald n' freaky," a female voice snickered.

Turning, I saw a red-haired girl on a moped with a pizza box in hand. Akane Okane, the biggest ass kisser to the gangster bitch girl herself. Unlike the latter, Akane was actually smart.

"Akane, dafuck you sayin'!? I ain't reducin' myself to hairless freak status," Ivy snarled.

"But it's the only way to get in there, assuming of course, you yourself want to enter."

That bitch! She's trying to make me the sacrificial lamb!

"You think I want to hear this slut relay shit to me? Akane, you have connections to this place?"

Akane blinked before letting loose a malevolent smirk. "Wow, ya caught on. But sadly it's nothing more than food delivery service."

"Then why aren't you bald?"

Akane waltzed over to the guards and handed them the pizza box, then returned to her moped.

"OI! I ASKED YA WHY THE HELL YOU AREN'T BALD!"

Wow, she literally just showed you, or are you that stupid to realize she doesn't need to enter the building to deliver the food.

"Isn't it obvious? Shave heads are for the mighty, and I myself and but a humble slave to you, madam," Akane bowed.

"Huh? The hell you blabberin' about?"

"The shaving of the head is debated by many historians as to what it truly symbolizes. Many believe it denotes submission, but just look at the ancient Egyptians. You weren't fit to be pharaoh if you didn't strut out into the sunlight, smooth n' shiny, a testament to your grandeur!"

Oh, so that's what she's doing. Akane, maybe you're not too bad after all. Now before you say something to change my perception...

"The hell you sayin'!? One, I'm a girl. A girlie girl, dammit! These pink dreads are my pride, and like hell I'm gonna reduce myself to hairless freak status!" Ivy fumed.

"And why do you believe YOU'D become a freak, and not a queen?" Akane smirked.

"I AM a queen!"

"Tch, tch, tch, not at all. Princess at best. You know why they say, "bald is beautiful"? Well it's because only the most elite and dominant of women can truly pull it off. All others who try, fall to submission and become slaves of the shave. But you, a princess who exudes such queenly energy would most certainly become a greater woman than Cleopatra!"

"Cleopatra was bald!? No way! I've seen the images of the hieroglyphics of her!"

"Twas merely a wig, for if she let loose the full radiance of her bald head, all would kneel forever more in it's grandeur, unable to go about their daily lives, thus Cleopatra and the queens of Egypt before her shielded their chrome domes of power for the sake of their people. But when wars broke out, they'd unleash their power, bringing enemy armies to their knees! Madam, women are creatures of smooth skin, but only the elite percentage of them can become a queen instead of a slave upon embracing total baldness. I believe you are most certainly in that 1%. So, shall you join the club of humanity's most powerful women?"

Ivy paused before a smile slowly spread across her face. "So a real queen shaves her head, huh. That's real interestin'. Alright, we headin' to Machi's."

"I am on the clock-"

"Then how about I call in a delivery," Ivy smirked as she hopped on the moped, sitting down on Akane's lap.

Akane's face turned redder than her hair, but deep down, she was terrified. She didn't like Ivy being THIS close to her.

"Say, why don't we bring Momo- ...!?"

Akane began to go pale as she came to the realization that Momo was nowhere in sight.

You really think I'd just stay standing around with my hair follicles at risk of execution!? But I did camp out nearby. Close enough to see what's going on, but far enough away so that if bitch 1 or 2 notices me, I can escape. Looks like Akane tried to swindle Ivy into going bald, but the one braincell in Ivy's head caught on, and now, Akane... Well, will be getting a name change to fit her new look. Akane, I thank you for your heroic sacrifice, and will never forget the social life you had.

Now with the sobby shit outta the way, time to devise a plan to get into the scalp suite.