This is the rule:
When Fauxhawk goes to Williamsburg to get his hair cut, it means that he must buy me a present. It doesn't matter what the present is - it's just important that it is an object of supreme giftiness.
I don't remember exactly how the rule started or where it came from, but all I know is that I now look forward to his haircuts as much as I dread my own.
Because look what I got! A postcard by David Shrigley! And a book about folding shit! And a Peppermint Patty!
I love David Shrigley. Apparently, these people do too.