Cutting St George’s hair

He settled the ponytail into the mouth of the bolt cutters, took a deep breath, and levered the handles together.
The hair resisted. Andy took another breath, threw his weight into it, and there was a crackle of sharp pops, like breaking spaghetti. It echoed through the shop and the ponytail dropped to the floor. The crowd hollered and applauded. Andy looked at the gouged blades of his bolt cutters and shook his head.
Mike wobbled forward. It had been eight months since an ex had tried to bite through his shoe and cracked half the bones in his foot. Dr. Connolly still wasn’t sure if he’d ever walk without a limp. “Little off the top, boss?” he said with a wicked grin.
Over the course of the hour, they sawed and clipped and chopped at the hero’s hair. In the end the tools were chipped and pitted, but the floor was covered with hair.

Excerpt From Ex-Patriots, pg 29-30
Peter Clines
https://books.apple.com/us/book/ex-patriots/id585738393