[ jax is kicked back in the gunnery, the pieces of a desert eagle spread on a t-shirt across the console in front of him, the comm propped at an angle. he's cleaning the as he speaks, his movements practiced and methodical, darting quick looks at the comm. ]

Y'know, back in Charming, we had a barber. This guy named Floyd, gave me my first haircut, and every one after that. Irreplaceable, that fucking guy.

[ homesick? maybe. jax pauses, gives all his attention to the gun for a minute, like he's forgotten he has an audience. ]

Anyway, what I'm getting at is I need a damn haircut. And I can't stroll down Main Street and get into Floyd's chair, so are any of y'all capable of giving me a hand here?