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Queer Eye for an International Leader

Captain Enema

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[b]Some lame big ol' European City[/b]

"Bruce darling, you simply must come and watch this," Chauncey lisps as he effeminately motions his lover over to the 54 inch plasma screen television.

"Must I dear?" Bruce asks.

"Yes," Chauncey replies with an edge of hurt in his voice.

"Don't be that way dearest, I'm coming," Bruce says as he stops cleaning his Barret's .50 Caliber Bolt Action rifle and makes his way over to the sofa and settles himself beside the love of his life.

"Just look at this awful abomination," Chauncey exclaims as he motions to King Alfred the 1st on the screen.

Bruce nods for a brief moment before asking, "Is it the ruffles?"

"Dear god man no!" mutters Chauncey.

"The knee socks?"

"I'm surrounded by fashion imbeciles!" gasps Chauncey.

"Look god damn it, I'm better know for shooting people a mile or so away, not wearing a bunch of god damn cuff links!" snaps Bruce as he pouts.

"Lover, you catch an attitude like that with me again and you'll be sleeping on this 3000 dollar hand made Italian sofa for the rest of the week," Chauncey says in a very matter of fact voice as he waggles his finger at Bruce.

"Sorry dear," Bruce says as he looks contrite.

"That's better," Chauncey says as he runs his hands up Bruce's arm and pulls Bruce in close for a deep kiss. Once they break their deep tender embrace he motions to the screen and says, "The tie, look at the tie."

"It's probably a Guard's tie, what is wrong with it?" Bruce asks.

"Darling, Guard's tie?" Chauncey asks as if the answer would be obvious to Bruce who just last week was slitting someone's throat with a table knife in the next room over before dismembering the body and flushing it down the toilet a piece at a time.

"Uhhh.." Bruce mumbles.

"Oh lord spare me from you neanderthals. Rub my feet you thug," Chauncey orders as he slides off his slippers are plops his feet into Bruce's well muscled lap and glowers at the King on the screen before saying, "Someone bloody well ought to start a tailoring service for world leaders, clearly Brooks Brothers is asleep at the tiller again. These leaders couldn't dress themselves if their very lives depended upon it."

"Well you know that guy who knows that guy," Bruce offers as he rubs scented oil into Chauncey's feet.

"Which guy?" Chauncey asks.

"The guy with the mustache who knows that other guy?" Bruce asks back hoping he can stir Chauncey's drug addled memory.

"OH the guy!" Chauncey says as he pretends to remember, but in actuality has no clue what Bruce is talking about.

"Yes that guy," Bruce responds as he finishes rubbing Chauncey's feet. "I think I might be a bit peckish after all of this."

"I'll make you a sandwich darling," Chauncey says as he pulls on his slippers and starts to get up. Just as he nearly stands he feels Bruce's strong hand on his arm.

"Not that sort of peckish love," Bruce says as he suddenly remembers that the kitchen knife set was recently used, without Chauncey's knowledge, to help carve up a person for flushing down the toilet. He feels a bit leery about having Chauncey making him a sandwich with a knife that was used to disembowel a man who was still alive at the time.

"You have something else in mind?" Chauncey asks suggestively.

"Oh I can think of something," Bruce replies as he leads his lover to their bedroom and the heart shaped bed inside of it as he relies on his extensive Special Forces training to ignore his hunger. 'I'll slip out later when he's asleep and buy a new set of knives,' Bruce thinks to himself as he pulls Chauncey close and prepares to ravage his delicious body.


Two weeks later, a variety of international papers are hired to run the following advertisement.

[quote][b][size="7"]Announcing the Opening of Chauncey and Bruce's International Tailors for Poorly Dressed World Leaders.[/size][/b]

Tired of the same old thing? Come and pay Chauncey a visit, he'll do you up right in no time at all.

References provided.[/quote]

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I gotta say.
I tip my hat to you sir.


The flier was left on the Kings cabinet in Windsor castle by Lizzie. A subtle hint that was not noticed immediately, but Alfred decided he would visit this tailor as soon as somebody else did and gave a good review.

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Procinctia’s formal stance is that the late Generalissimo possessed an innately superior style to any other head-of-state living or dead

[i]Chauncey and Bruce's International Tailors for Poorly Dressed World Leaders[/i] could do nothing for the trendy Generalissimo!

A picture immortalizing Generalissimo’s, Generalissimo of Procinctia, overwhelmingly superior fashion[/center]

Edited by Generalissimo
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Unless dark suits and fedoras have suddenly gone out of style (they haven't) then the wardrobe of His Excellency the Sovereign is not lacking.


Although there is some curiosity as to what sort of fashionable creations this new business would produce.

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