[The rest is easier with both hands free, extracting the curling iron from its box, plugging it into the wall outlet, and waiting for it to warm up as he scrounged up -- from the medicine cabinet, likely -- a bottle of hair product.

Before anyone raises an eyebrow at how a young man/grim reaper happens to know which products help protect hair from potential heat damage when exposed to a curling iron, keep in mind that Liz and Patti were dressed similarly because Kid often enforced this dress code.

Grooming them was a thing whenever they deigned to allow him.]

We'll start with the right side, if you don't mind. Close your eyes, Maka. It might do to hold your breath while I spray this.