Knot without my bun.

For those who haven’t heard, my brother’s coiffeur has been the subject of a malicious, unprovoked attack that affronted not only his tiny man bun, but questioned his sense of style, his grooming habits and – dare I say it – his sanity. We are not sure yet who the hater is, but we know this much: we are on the hunt for someone who uses scare quotes around established words, we are tracking down the sole person keeping Australia Post in business, and WE WILL FIND CAPS LOCK.

The entire Green family has felt the weight of this attack, as each of us has sported questionable haircuts over the years. I had a mullet in 2003, it was at one stage difficult to distinguish Lucy’s head from a bowl, Sez’s mercifully short-lived fringe looked like discount Spotlight curtains, and my mum gets told at petrol stations to take off her helmet before entering.

Theories abound: primary suspect being Tony Abbott, who thought it came over in a boat. Second, Rolf Harris, penning another belle lettres from prison, and lastly (and this one I find a little dubious) Mum, who is sick of getting asked by Miik how much Lego pays her in royalties.

Uncanny.

My money is on a Facebook friend, which proves what we’ve all long suspected – that Facebook contains 1% real friends, 98% people you don’t know, and a few people that really hate your guts. I also think that it has to be a girl (possibly with a receding hairline which should narrow things down) because we cry when a split end we were fond of gets chopped, and because surely no guy would care enough to think about what another man’s hair gets up to on the weekend. As I mentioned to Miik while he was weeping and cramming chunks of cake into his face, to not expose the perpetrator is to let the terrorists win, and so we will be launching a full-scale criminal investigation. And by “we” I mean Miik, who has promised me that once I’ve finished this blog, he will ring the police station and ask them to investigate this as a hate crime. I have no doubt that the good folk at Midland police station will take the matter seriously as there are no other problems in the area.

What is particularly troubling about the attack is that the perp didn’t just focus on Miik. An innocent bun got hurt in the debacle, which is not really fair, because what did the knot ever do? All he does is ride around atop the head of an artist, which means that the amount of wanky conversations he’s had to suffer through are already turning him grey. If you’re reading this, manbun hater, we will not kowtow, and we will not back down. All this has done is prolong man bun’s stay of execution. Also know that the long arm of the law will soon be coming your way. The letter on which this hateful note came has already been dusted for fingerprints, and the vitriol with which you no doubt drafted this attack will allow us to swab your flecks of saliva for DNA.

Lastly, I’m curious to know what haircut you would like your mate to sport once the “topknot” is gone. I have several excellent suggestions:

Yeow.

Ice Ice Maybe?

Define terror?

Then again, Miik could just go back to his classic mid-90s bob, which was a massive hit with the ladies.

Don’t ask.