I think I can say I've cured the little twisted monkey, Jazzy Bastard. He's grown back all normal now and can play with the other monkeys. I crept into his room last night. I was so excited because I was going to give him a whole new look. I was even going to put some foils in. I was thinking of putting a nice caramel in, just a few highlights, you know, to create texture. I crept in, propped his head up on the pillow and sat beside him. I had my scissors out and was all ready to begin. He placed his hand on my leg like he does but then he opened his eyes and said, "Hello, little man". I was so shocked I couldn't even run. I've been cutting his hair for years and he's never woken up. He must have noticed my shock because he laughed and said, "Is it time for my haircut is it? I've never thanked you for cutting my hair for all these years have I? Well, thank-you little man, in fact, thank-you for everything". I was so shocked I forgot to breathe. It was like when I go completely overboard with the hairspray and I accidentally breathe in a cloud of spray and it catches in my throat for a moment. My breath caught in my throat and I made a little rasping noise as I started breathing again. I must have looked like a complete berk perched on his bed my scissors still in my hands, my mouth hanging open, chocking on air. He just smiled at me while I recovered. Then just when I'd steadied myself he said loud and clear, "I love you, little man". There was no mistaking it and he was awake and I was awake and no one was trying to kill us. Before I'd even grasped the enormity of it I'd sputtered out, "I love you too". So there he was all calm and confident and there I was sputtering and stumbling over my words and not even knowing what I was thinking. But as I heard the words tumble out of my own mouth I knew that they were true. I love him. He pulled himself up to a sitting position, brushed his hand against my cheek, gently pulled the scissors out of my clasped hand and threw them away on the floor somewhere. Then he leaned in real close and I could feel his breath and his moustache tickling me and he kissed me all wet and eager. I just melted like warm nutella. Well, you don't need to hear the sordid details of the rest of the evening. But let's just say that Jazzy Bastard definitely isn't repressed anymore.

So that's the life of the midnight barber. You've glimpsed just a bit of the genius. I've made a poodle very happy, I've expanded into the art of dyeing people's hair in their sleep making one gorgeous redhead and I've found a new use for the essential barbering skill of scalp massage. It relaxes muscles, stimulates follicles and cures little twisted monkeys and helps them grow back all normal. Then they become all confident, happy and unrepressed and go about telling people important things like that they are in love with them. Then of course the best of all, I've discovered true love, right in my own little flat, right in Jazzy Bastard's arms.

How do I do it? I'm a gifted child. I'm the midnight barber. I do my best work while you're oblivious.