Browhilda Frown-Free has just about everything a once desperately ambitious, unknown actress could desire: fame, wealth, notorious love, Academy Award notice, great bone structure, fab hair, free cosmetic procedures for the taking—everything but the freedom to love the one she's (really) with. Don't worry though, babes, Brow's been down this fake-amour alley before. She's a friggin' pro at navigating the affectionless twists and turns of the overly photographed.
Howev, BFF's latest man experience—heady as it all may be—has become slightly more than Browhilda's used to, what with her past liaisons of coolly arranged get-togethers. You know the age-old ersatz Hollywood plan: A couple goes out for a red carpet whatever; then they go in for separate, much more private dalliances with their same-sex partners. Brow's had this setup with almost every man she's hooked up with before.
But Ms. F.F.'s latest dude—who's more than happy to bed every slobbering femme he can find—has turned out to be far messier than Brow-babe would prefer. Not only does he womanize with indiscretion, he's stupidly starting to make a loud and rather visible stink about Brow's increased devotion to her current g-f. How does that Shakespearean saying go? Oh what a tangled guy web we weave, when at first we hetero deceive? Watch out, Brow, we be onto ya!