In the middle of the melee, an announcement comes over the loudspeaker, heralding the arrival of "Sheba, Queen of Babylon." A fierce drag queen, dressed in the finest of Cleopatra costumes (what do you want from me? She's supposed to be Sheba, but the costume's clearly Cleopatra) enters, borne on a litter carried by four loinclothed HDGBs. Some girls get all the luck. She stumbles out of the chariot, almost falling, and snarks about keeping "the royal tits intact." Then she shoos her bearers off: "Go away now -- go play with yourselves." The crowd roars with laughter, because Drag Queens are cool. I don't know why. They just are. Sheba welcomes everyone to the King of Babylon contest, "where the competition is stiff, and so are the contestants!" Everyone cheers. Sheba then says that people can still sign up to "drop trou and win a thou." Clever. Now let's wrap this up. Thank you. Sheba introduces the first contestant:"Four-Alarm Fred -- he'll light your fire and put it out." She makes way for a professional dancer dressed as a fireman -- a very cute, prematurely balding fireman. The camera cuts back and forth between his slo-mo striptease and the frenzied crowd. On the other side of the dance floor, Brian sneers, "Shaved chest, pec implants, steroids, Hair Club for Men." Justin replies that it's sad, isn't it: "All these older guys, still partying way past their prime. They don't know when to stop." Brian glares at Justin like he's not sure whether Justin's teasing him. Justin continues, giving Brian the old elevator look: "So, how about the real thing?" Brian frowns and snorts, "Check back with me in an hour." Snicker. Justin's all, what do you mean check back with you in an hour?! "So, I'm a backup plan? Who you do when all else fails?" Justin pouts. No! Really?! Keep up, bunny. Brian once again reminds Justin that they're not a couple. Justin demands to know what they are, then. The universe screams back, "NOT A COUPLE, THAT'S FOR SURE." Brian shrugs, "I don't know about you, but I'm single," and saunters off, leaving Justin simmering. Cut back to Four-Alarm Fred, turned around and pulling off his jockstrap. Finally, he finishes his routine by straddling a silver fire hose. The slobbering hordes just can't get enough. Sigh.