Queer as Folk U.S.
Good Grief!

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Argh! My Eyes! My Eyes!

Babylon! It's Police Night, so that means go-go dancers in hats, blue shirts, and black jockstraps humping each other on the raised platforms. Yawn. Sorry, but, um, what else you got? HDGBs, most wearing shirts -- see, now that's shocking -- shake it on the dance floor. Some of them even dance worse than Gale Harold does. Maybe all of the gay extras were out of town. Speaking of which, Brian trips down the stairs, finds Mike and Emmett at the bar, glances around, and comments, "Fuck! It's a hot crowd, tonight." Aw, you say that about all the HDGBs that dance as bad as you do! Mike shocks, "Brian, you shouldn't be here!" Brian asks where he should be, then. Emmett replies, "At your mom's, planning your dad's funeral?" Brian snorts that he's "practically buried." Ted: "Well, it's reassuring to know that neither rain nor snow can keep you from your appointed rounds." Brian replies, "Consistency is a rare virtue, especially in these uncertain times." The Boys offer to help out if Brian needs any assistance with the arrangements. The Empress says it's taken care of, and saunters off. Mike looks worried any way. Wow. Brian must really not care that his father died. Gosh, I hope he doesn't crack at some point. Got it. Let's keep moving.

Brian walks into the Back Room of Sex. He exchanges The Look with one guy, but it doesn't take. Brian keeps walking, past people engaged in blowjobs, rimming, and videos of people engaged in blowjobs and rimming. Enough is never enough in the House of QaF. And, there's like, stalactites on the ceiling. Were there always stalactites on the ceiling of the Back Room of Sex? Wow. Naked men having sex is actually becoming boring. I can't believe this. Why is everyone so hairless? No one has any hair anywhere. Let's see...uh, the set's bathed in a blue light. That's new, too. No, sorry: I still really, really, don't care. Brian wanders around some more, possibly searching for a plot. Got to be one in here somewhere. Brian spots a nice young gentleman with a well-muscled chest, and as a non-verbal cue, takes off his shirt. Chest Guy strides over and starts sucking on the area immediately in front of Brian's crotch. All of a sudden, Mikey appears, just like old times. He demands to know what Brian is doing. Nothing, really, but the other guy's pretending to suck his dick. Mike's outraged that Brian could even think about sex at a time like this. Brian replies, "What can I say? Death gives me a real hard-on." Like there's something that doesn't. Chest Guy ignores them and continues the fake blowjob. Mike offers to take Brian home, and shrieks, "Jesus, Brian, your dad just died! How can you even think about getting your dick sucked?!" Brian shrugs, "This is my grief counseling." Also what he does when he's celebrating. And if he's got a few minutes waiting in line at the supermarket, probably. Mike's disgusted and stomps out, giving us another good look at the back of Chest Guy's head.

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Queer as Folk U.S.

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