Deuce Bigalow Male Gigolohd [ FRESH FULL REVIEW ]

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," his boss barked, "you’re too good for this place. Also, you're fired."

Then came the woman with narcolepsy who fell asleep in her soup; the woman with Tourette’s who shouted creative insults at the waitstaff; and Jilinda, who was perfect in every way except for the fact that she had a prosthetic leg made of high-grade mahogany. Deuce Bigalow Male GigoloHD

"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."

"Don't touch the phone. Don't touch the silk sheets. And definitely don't let the lionfish get lonely," Antoine warned. The fluorescent lights of the "Everything for Your

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.

The repair bill was $6,000. Deuce had $14 and a packet of fish flakes. Also, you're fired

When Antoine returned, he found his apartment pristine, his fish thriving, and Deuce Bigalow walking away with his head held high—and a very tall woman waving goodbye from the balcony.