Watch Don't Mess - With The Zohan

The poodle wagged its tail. Somewhere outside, a car screeched away in terror. And in the quiet of his salon, Zohan began to hum a cheerful Israeli pop song, the shears glinting in the afternoon light.

Zohan stood in the center of the salon, shears held loosely at his side. The three men were frozen—partly in pain, partly in sheer humiliation. Dmitri touched his new pink Mohawk and whimpered. watch don't mess with the zohan

“The cat looked fabulous,” Zohan said, finally turning. His eyes, warm and brown a moment ago, now held the flat calm of a man who’d once disarmed a missile with a bottle of Pantene. The poodle wagged its tail

Zohan watched them go, then turned back to the poodle. He picked up his comb. Zohan stood in the center of the salon,

Dmitri slammed a photograph on the counter. It showed a man with a scarred face and dead eyes. “This is Boris. You humiliated him in the underground cat-fighting league last year. You did not fight his cat. You gave his cat a… a bob cut.”