Deuce was in heaven. For three days, he lived like a king, or at least a king’s very confused fish-sitter. Then, the incident occurred. A freak accident involving a blender, a toaster, and a very expensive medieval weapon left Antoine’s luxury apartment looking like a war zone.
"Don't touch the phone. Don't touch the silk sheets. And definitely don't let the lionfish get lonely," Antoine warned. Deuce Bigalow Male GigoloHD
The fluorescent lights of the "Everything for Your Fish" shop hummed with a depressing low-frequency buzz. Deuce Bigalow, a man whose primary social circle consisted of a three-legged goldfish and a highly judgmental koi, scrubbed a particularly stubborn algae stain from a tank. Deuce was in heaven
"You want to save your skin? You gotta sell the sizzle, Deuce," T.J. explained, leaning against a gold-plated pimp-mobile. "Women have needs. They want a man who listens. They want a man who cares. They want... well, they probably don't want you, but you're all I've got." And so, the "Fish Man" became the "Gigolo." A freak accident involving a blender, a toaster,
Enter T.J. Hicks, a "man-manager" with a wardrobe consisting entirely of purple velvet and a business model that lived in the greyest of legal areas.
"Deuce," his boss barked, "you’re too good for this place. Also, you're fired."
His first client was a woman named Ruth, who stood seven feet tall and had a penchant for aggressive ballroom dancing. Deuce, who came up to her elbows, spent the night being used as a human pivot point. He survived with only a minor concussion and a newfound respect for verticality.