And Davydenko cast off the Feli-Hair, for the Feli-Hair, while gorgeous, was causing him to have inexplicable cravings for hair care products, full-length mirrors, moisturizers loaded with state-of-the-art antioxidants, and shirtless pics of Rafa. Newly hairless and unbound, he set off in search of fresh follicles.
For nine days and nine nights Davydenko wandered in the desert, his bald head growing more sunburned by the hour. He was alone and thirsty... thirsty for hair.
But on the tenth day, lo - a lush oasis! A rampant forest! But was it real, or was it a mirage?
Davydenko got closer, and realized it was no mirage, but a large curly forest sitting atop a hippo's head. With a cruelty that was as beautiful as it was deadly, he purloined the Hippo-Hair and donned it proudly.
All of a sudden, a wave of strange fortune hit Davydenko. He found women young and old screaming his name wherever he went, and in the larger cities there were even throngs of bright-eyed men adding their voices to the otherwise feminine chorus. At home he started receiving dozens of underwear samples in the mail, the bulk of them used. He found that all of a sudden he could do no wrong, even when he went out looking like:
and he started winning every poll in the local news media, even the one which asked, "Who will be the first woman to lead the United Nations?"
And Davydenko knew he was blessed with a great fortune, and he stroked the Hippo-Hair, and the Hippo-Hair rustled in the breeze, and it was good. Amen.
Well, until the day Davydenko went out on court and suddenly smashed all five of his racquets. Amen.