The contest

Over in Beau's department, they're having a hair-growing contest. Everyone puts in $20 and they don't shave.

At all.

They don't trim.

They just let it grow.

And they become one big bunch of scraggly bastards.

Whomever is the last holdout (the one whose girlfriend is either blind or has a thing for mountain men, I imagine) gets the winnings at the end.

Beau was on the fence about joining in on the hirsute fun (I've been dying to use that word forever. I'm a nerd, remember?).

So I thought I'd make a deal with him: Go ahead and join. And as long as you don't shave, I won't shave (won't I look pretty in all of those pretty spring sundresses?).

He thought for a a milisecond and announced

I'M OUT!