THE CUSTOMER. (Furious) You clumsy, awkward, conceited galoot!
THE BARBER. (With sudden and overwhelming rage) Don't talk to a gentleman like that! You cur! (With a sudden resumption of his obsequious manner.) I did it on purpose.
THE CUSTOMER. (Gasping) Wh-what do you mean?
THE BARBER. (Respectfully) You really mustn't accuse me of being clumsy, sir. I'm not clumsy. If I cut you, it was quite intentional—like this! (Cutting him a second time.)
THE CUSTOMER. Damnation! Are you crazy?
THE BARBER. (Applying the styptic) No, sir, I'm quite sane. (THE CUSTOMER tries to sit up.) Oh, don't do that, sir! Don't do that! My razor is frightfully sharp!
THE CUSTOMER. (Panic-stricken) I want to sit up!
THE BARBER. Don't try it while the razor is at your throat, sir.
It is sure to be fatal.
THE CUSTOMER. Then take it away!
THE BARBER. Oh, no, no, no! When I am through shaving you—not before. Now take it easy, sir. Lie back quietly! Quietly! That's it.