DISCLAIMER: Don't own RE or Queer Eye For the Straight Guy or Leonardo DeCaprio or Tom Cruise.
A/N: This fic is brought to you by myself and CassSpaz. We truly hope you enjoy and give us lots and lots of Reviews. And without further ado we preset you with the show!!
The lights come up, and we see Steve Burnside, dressed in pink daisy dukes, matching midriff, and matching high heel pumps. Billy Coen stands just behind him, in purple dress slacks, brown sandals, and a violet colored tank top with matching purse. Alfred Ashford stands next to him, in a flowered sundress, and sandals, and matching scarf around his neck. Morpheus, stands next to Alfred, checking his lipstick in a handy compact, while straightening his rose colored blouse, and matching mini skirt. Billy sighs heavily, while fanning himself with one well manicured hand.
"Alright, now this poor guy really needs our help." Steve lisps, nodding his head lightly. The red highlights of his Leonardo DeCaprio haircut glistening in the light.
"Ok, just how bad is it, cause I have an bikini wax later." Morpheus lisps, twiddling with a strand of his white hair.
"Now Morphie, that's no way to be. We here to help all the less fortunate." Alfred adjusts his scarf, sighing. "These shoes don't match my outfit."
"I told you to get the cream colored pumps, but no, you had to have the sandals." Billy shakes is head, then combs his bleach blonde hair back into place with his fingers. "Who is this guy anyway?"
At Albert Wesker's Apartment
Wesker reclined in his chair, sipping the fine wine casually. It had been a rough day, doing missions for HCF and trying to hunt down that damned Redfield, and he was content in being able to rest.
Suddenly, the door burst open. Wesker leapt to his feet. But even his virally enhanced powers could not stand up to the sheer puffitude which entered the room.
"Oh, gosh." Sighed Billy Coen, making a gesture with his hand. It flopped limply. "Wine is so passé! Everyone knows that big boys take vodka and Red Bull."
"Dear … God!" Wesker said in a flat monotone.
"You need a lot of work, dah-ling." Morpheus told the blond man on the floor. "But –" and he gave a sigh "That's ok. That's the job of –" he paused and all four puffs spoke in unison.
"QUEER EYE FOR THE RESIDENT EVIL GUY!"
Wesker finally gained some measure of composure and stood up, brushing a bit of dirt from his black shirt.
"Listen you puffs, I am perfectly capable of dressing myself."
"I don't think so dearie. I black is so last season, and what's with the hair? I mean really the slicked back look is sooooo wrong for you." Alfred said, circling Wesker like a hungry shark. "Highlights, that's the ticket!"
"And the sunglasses, please.", Steve, waved his hand limply. "Why hide your best feature, I mean really?"
"Look, if you don't leave now…" Wesker growled, taking a step toward Billy. Alfred and Billy grabbed him by the forearms, and that was the end of the fight. Wesker was overpowered by the sheer puffness of Billy and is mighty girlfriends.
For the first time in what seemed like forever, Albert Wesker was afraid. He had fought off zombies, Hunters, and overly dramatic heroes that had disgustingly stoic personalities.
But he had never met anything so horrifying as four full blown homosexuals dressed in women's clothing wanting to give him a makeover.
"No." he said in his cold, emotionless voice. "If I am made over, how will I kill Redfield?"
"Mm, Redfield." Giggled Alfred. "I'd play with his rifle any day."
"Bitch!" gasped Morpheus. "Stay back! He's mine, you whore!"
"Oh, no you didn't – no you didn't."
"I think he did!" piped up Steve Burnside
A slap fight ensues. Wesker stared in shock, but figured this might a good chance to run, as the only limp wrist still holding him was Billy's.
"Um…look… TOM CRUISE!!"
"WHERE?!" Billy screamed, looking around wildly. Wesker snickered with evil delight, and turned back toward his apartment.
"Oh no you don't sweetie." Steve lisped, throwing his arms around Wesker. "My sweet little Albie, you can't leave yet."
"That was very naughty Albie." Billy waggled a well manicured finger in his face. "saying you saw Tom Cruise. And you two, stop that this instant. You're wallowing around like a couple of street walkers."
Alfred and Morpheus quickly compose themselves, and check their makeup. Wesker is still locked tightly in Steve's embrace. His will to live is quickly fading.
"Now Albie, on to the hair salon!" Alfred shouts joyfully.