AAAAH!   rich memories of such rich promise that sadly never came to pass due to my entertainment commitments
and a number of unresolved discretions. I had spotted a lucrative opportunity for creating the, God alone knows why, much
coveted celebby look-alike transformations and set about plying  my trade with passion.

My first client was a rather disgruntled pet whom shall be named  for professional and obvious reasons, Ginger Tom,
yes he came to my parlour with an unforgivable lack of basic grooming resulting in lank flattened fur and a what seemed permanently  affixed furious frown, and rightly so, such a lack of controlled coiffure could only result in said sour countenance as a bad hair day is  the worst form of malaise and can render one with any number of undesired conditions from hopelessly housebound to dreaded peer ridicule.

Frustrated that he sported a less than average appearance and sadly was far removed from being a cool cat, filled with youthful yearnings to be a celebrity, distraught that he possessed no particular talents, I comforted him somewhat with the knowledge that this was no Barr to coveted state, this wretched soul was in dire need of repair but I reassured him that under my artistic care he would be pouf-fed, plucked, waxed, tweaked, teased, tousled blowed and cosseted to the said state and that I would throw in a massage and complementary robe out of charitable empathy then drawing with all my might every ounce of my artistic reserves and after a short spell when the previous promises had been performed my creative magic had transformed this once dull dude into, albeit still a furred, but I felt nonetheless Super Star Wars character clone of significance,  yet the anticipated satisfaction was not quite apparent , no doubt due to lack of confidence with the bold improvement.  For marketing purposes I had tohastily improvise for the lack of said satisfaction but you may bear witness from both the hideous before and super after transformation images that I had indeed performed with a masters skill.

In good sport I josh fully commented 'may the hair force be with you' and with an apparent lack of gratitude and what can only be described as a fit of lunacy the client ran amok with a fang and claw attack, my self and the salon only surviving on the promise of forfeiture of payment whilst under not only the said attack but 3  stone of beautifully coiffured, but clawing cat.

Tis only the firm belief that this soul was so tortured beyond restitution and clearly none of the blame for dissatisfaction lay with my artistic merit that helped me through the following closure of the eagerly entered enterprise, suffice to say I thankfully had my entertainment career to pull me through.