“Back in for the usual?”
The beetle nodded to the question. He’d been coming here for long enough that the stylist knew just what to do. With a gesture, the beetle was encouraged to lay belly-first upon the towel-covered table, an invitation he accepted with little hesitation. He relaxed his shell just enough for expose the entirety of each side, allowing the stylist free reign.
Over the next hour or so, the beetle’s shell received an extensive amount of care. It was carefully buffed out, removing all the dirt and debris of being near a modern city. A few small touch-ups were made here and there, filling in a bit of color where the shell’s outermost layer had flaked off and not yet regrown, or scrubbing away the oldest sections to allow for new growth. Finally, a fresh coat of wax was layered over the top, giving the shell a sheen with a gloss far exceeding what nature intended, allowing him to stand out in a world with few like him.
“Same time next month?” The beetle nodded. The machine’s shop was best suited for androids, but few had the tools to tend to his shell so well.
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