Long ago, I worked in the vault room of a large retail store. A secure, windowless room, the vault's daily sameness was driving me nuts. In a feeble bid for some entertainment, I began collecting defaced one-dollar bills.
Artist: "You're looking old and faded, George Washington. You look like you're two hundred years old."
George: "Being laundered in washing machines and crumpled into sweaty pockets has not helped my appearance at all, to be sure."
Artist: "You're wearing a wig."
George: "Yes, all gentlemen wear well-made wigs on formal occasions."
Artist: "Not nowadays they don't. Men wear toupees to cover their bald spots. Hey, how come you didn't have your wig cover your head? You have got a major receding hairline.
George: "A high, clear brow is a sign of intelligence, I'll have you know."
Artist: "Oh, baloney. It's a sign you're getting older and your hair is falling out."
George: "That is why many gentlemen shave, I admit; they do not wish to be called greybeards."
Artist: "I think you'd look a lot younger with more hair. Here, bring this hairline down to here, with some bangs, and then, you could grow a short beard and dye it, like this."
Artist: "Jeeze, that didn't work. You're right, George, you looked a lot better before."
Artist: "Sorry."
Artist: "George?"