CHAPTER 2

Bob Ross silently stepped forward, hand extended. "You've done well. No team has ever defeated us before. You are finally able to enter the final chamber, where the one you seek awaits. Foxxy will escort you."
Locking Louis' arm in hers, Foxxy grinned. "Well shuga, you ready?"
Very relieved to finally be finished with the outrageous diversions, Louis confirmed, "Let us go."
They passed through a corridor. And another, and another. For Louis, tired from dancing, it was all a bit dizzying. Eventually though, they reached a door. A gold door. In fact, the door was so gold that it could effortlessly draw one's gaze and cause a surreal glow to appear around the doorframe, almost like a portal to the heavens. A large G adorned its centre. Without so much as a touch, the door swung open. At the middle of the room was a rotating waterbed draped in tiger fur. The bed was flanked by a handful of hoes in gold bikinis who Louis presumed must be Goldmember's mistresses. Louis would soon discover however, that hoes weren't his only interest. A sudden burst of action saw Goldmember flying in to the room on golden roller skates.
"Oh yesh, looking very toight this one. Toight like a tiger! Hrrrrr! Foxxy you did not tell me zaht I had a new stripper!"
Louis felt all the blood rush from his face as he suddenly became very conscious of his lack of clothing. The Dutchman wheeled around him, slowly looking him up and down. Stopping in front of him, his watery blue eyes locked in with Louis' in an eerily intent gaze. What came next was even worse. Rolling up his sleeve, he peeled off a large strip of skin, and attempted to eat it seductively.
"Vhy haf I never seen you before?"
Louis tried his very best to maintain a straight face, though he felt like gagging. "Goldmember, we have met. I'm Louis, your Internet pen pal."
Goldmember's eyes widened. "VAS. I had no idea you vere such a tasty little morsel. Haf you come here to offer yourself to me?"
Now, Louis was angry. How dare this creep talk to the King of France like a common buttslut! Then he looked down and remembered: he looked like one! Had the child tricked him?!

-
Meanwhile in some Amsterdam slum, the little "Dutch" boy tore off his disguise. He was in fact... the boy from Les Misérables! Hi-fiving his chum he proclaimed, "Yo gars, I got that sacré aristo-putain good! Hahaha!"
The boys were used to pranking rich French tourists, but even they did not realise quite who their victim was.
"You sent an aristo- to Goldmember- WEARING THAT!?" asked one boy.
"Oh he's in for a real surprise!" chimed in another.
The boy smirked. "Well, he deserves it, the dumbass. Why the hell would a Dutch kid speak perfect French?"
The other boy laughed and nodded. "Seriously! Can you believe the idiots who run our country?"
Suddenly, the boy stared very intently at the coin in his hand.
"What's wrong mate?" his friend asked.
Slowly raising his eyes he whispered, "Fuck, Jacques. I think that was...THA WAS THE FUCKING ROI BRO."

-
Back in Goldmember's lair, Louis had gone from insulted to downright confused. The two had finally overcome the initial friction of their meeting and come down to business over dinner. Louis was first bewildered after he ordered the crêpe and was asked if he'd like his "smoking or non-smoking". Unsure, but willing to try local cuisine, he had opted for smoking. The crêpe now before him had a tobacco pipe sticking out of it. Louis despised tobacco, but Colbert made him keep it around because apparently it made lots of money. Louis thought he'd try and move on to the topic he wished to discuss.
"I love gold," began Louis.
"Not ash much ash mee~!" broke in Goldmember; "So tell me mishtah Louis, how much do *you* love gold?"
Louis took a deep breath, and then, began from the beginning, an epic tale with flashbacks throughout his life, of his one true love: gold.

#And I~~~ I, will always looove~ goo~~ooo~~oold; I'll always love go~~old#

By the end, he was almost a little tearful, remembering some of his favourite ballets he spent with gold at his side. "So how much do you love gold?"
Goldmember immediately whipped down his golden sweats, revealing, well, you know...
"SACRÉ PUTAIN DE BORDEL DE MERDE" exclaimed Louis, "WHAT THE FUCK MAN!?"
Louis leapt up from the table in shock. Goldmember stood proudly, still exposing himself for all to see.
"You see mista Louis, I haf a more majestic schepta than you!"
Louis shook his head, horrified. "That's not okay, man. No one could possibly be into that!"
Goldmember laughed and motioned around him. "I beg to differ! It looks like I haf even more bitches zan you!"
Now, Louis was furious. "I know for a FACT that not even Madame de Montespan would touch THAT thing," contested Louis, "and if Madame de Maintenon saw that, SHE'D CUT IT OFF!"
Goldmember let out a shrill Dutch cackle. "Ish dat so, Mishtah Louis? Zen allow me to intodush you to my osher guests..." Goldmember called out in Dutch.
Shortly after, the floor began to tremor. Whatever was coming, it was BIG.
The doors flew open, and there she was. Madame de Montespan, who looked to have put on even MORE weight since Louis last saw her, waddled in to the room. Her mode of dress was little better than sweats, and her signature poodles sagged almost as much as her tits.
"What are you doing here!?" Louis cried.
"Oh, I left your old ugly ass for Goldmember! Nothing personal, but he's *far* more wealthy and powerful than you, my dear."
Outraged, Louis grabbed a sword off a display on the wall and pointed it at Goldmember. "This has gone too far Goldmember. You insult the King of France and his subjects!"
Again, Goldmember laughed. "No mishtah Louis, I am ze TRUE King of France."
Suddenly, rifle barrels emerged from Montespan's breasts and began firing in Louis's direction. The reign of Louis XIV. It was all but over. Or was it?
At that very moment, a mass of pink ribbon darted out on to the mezzanine above. "Run in to a spot of trouble, dear brother?" chimed Philippe.
Before Louis could respond, Philippe swung down to the ground floor using one of his massive hair bows as a rope. Landing on the ground with a loud clack of his heels, he turned to grin at his dumbfounded brother.
"I like the outfit mon frere, it suits you."
Normally this would have elicited a sarcastic response, but Louis was too grateful to be snide. Whipping out a triple barrelled gun he aimed at the fatty chan and the pervert. Without hesitation, he fired directly into montespans chest, and her tits exploded in a flurry of confetti. Stumbling backward from the sudden massive loss of weight, she fell to the ground. Goldmember tried his best to appear unfazed, but he was. After all, a fighting faggot is much more difficult to intimidate, and he had heard legends of the King's brother's amazing skills.
"The game is up, "Goldmember. I know your secret. It's been a long time since we last met."
Louis was confused. "Brother, you've met this man?!"
Philippe smiled knowingly. "As have you. This man is an old enemy. Who else has contested your riches?"
Thinking for a moment, Louis leapt to his feet. "IMPOSSIBURU!"
Goldmember sighed and said, "So, you've figured me out, mista Louis. Well done."
Reaching behind his head, he removed his short blonde wig to reveal a matted mane of thick black hair. Goldmember was none other than FOUQUET.
"I lost everything, EVERYTHING BECAUSE OF YOU, *SIRE(!)*. But I spent my long, cold nights in Pignerol plotting. At my first opportunity, I escaped to Holland, because everyone knows the Dutch WHOOP YO SUNNY LITTLE ASS. I had nothing. But now, I have become more powerful than any King in history."
"Spare me. I was impressed by what you created at Vaux-le-Vicomte, squirrely, but this is just outrageous. I mean, did you really replace your bibi with GOLD!?"
"Alchemy at its finest, sire."
"UCH! Regardless, this is over. Once again, you have fallen short of Bourbon might."
A few of Philippe's armed buttsluts filed in to the room ready to apprehend Louis's foe.
Fouquet smiled wryly. "And that is where you are wrong, Your Majesty. I once dazzled you with the arts. Now let me dazzle you with science."
And without further ado, he was gone. Fouguet had literally vanished in to thin air. The remaining French gasped.
Deeply troubled, Louis ordered, "Get Huygens immediately. Tell him it is the King's business. We are returning to France."