Zack:Hey, look, he dropped his beard on the way to the fashion show.
Dr. Thorpe:Looks like Fabio's about to drop something in his hand, maybe it's a Beard-Gro pellet.
Zack:I don't think he has a hand. That scarf is hiding a hook. A vicious croc took his hand and beard.
Dr. Thorpe:That's not a scarf, that's a Martha Stewart Living curtain. But I agree you don't need two hands in the modeling business if what you're modeling is suits made of Astroturf.
Zack:Is he wearing a line of eye makeup? He looks like Adam Ant.
Dr. Thorpe:Either eye makeup or he's just been beaten severely by Etro thugs for losing his beard.
Zack:Ey!!!! Yousa gonna remember the beard next time, capiche? Actually Etro thugs are probably rail thin women wearing checkered table cloths and huge Fu Man Chu mustaches.
Dr. Thorpe:Which is even scarier. You know, come to think of it, he does look very much like Adam Ant with a fluffier haircut and without a Drum Major suit. Remember how Adam and the Ants had like three drummers? I bet they were always getting into disputes within the band, because the drummers outnumbered him. "Adam, I really think we should go in a more drum-oriented direction." And their votes always outweighed his. So, the moral is, he eventually turned into a fashion model for clothing designed by lunatics.
Zack:And they turned into the world's first successful all drum Adam Ant coverband. Wait a second, are Adam Ant and Fabio holding hands?
Dr. Thorpe:Zack, let's not take this in a "gay" direction, because from the look of it, those two are all man. We'd just be grasping at straws if we tried to make cracks about their masculinity.
Zack:I wasn't taking it in a gay direction. That would be preposterous. Homosexuals?! In the fashion industry?! No, I was thinking that it was a showing of beardless solidarity. "Stay alive, no matter what beards occur. I will find you!"
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
Fashion SWAT... the fashion industry is obsessed with impracticality. We know that what designers create was never meant to be worn by the grimy masses, but that doesn't somehow diminish how ridiculous many of these costumes are. Make no mistake, they are costumes, and like a Halloween prize pageant we will turn our discerning gaze on the grievous fashion misfires of Paris, Milan, and New York. We're not pulling any punches, and we're definitely not interested in making any friends. We're Joan Rivers without Melissa Rivers to temper our screeching. We're the Fashion Police in jack boots. We are Fashion SWAT.