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Her Royal Highness Dominique Fontainbleu Queen Index
Coronation Year 1991
The inside story of Her Majesty's rise to fame

1991 Miami.
Stormy Weather.

Miami, my hometown, was a nightmare. My wicked evil twin brother showed up with this woman HE CLAIMED WAS THE REAL SYBIL !!!!!! MY NERVES!!!!! I mean she WASN’T A DRAG QUEEN!!!!!!!!SHE WAS... WAS, YOU KNOW, A WOMAN !!!!!!! Not that I don’t like women, I adore them. But this one was claiming to be me, or claiming I was claiming to be her. It was all so confusing. With that slime Stephanie just smiling like Tammy Bakker at a two-for-one tacky make up sale at Woolworths. And Terry whining “ why does everyone always want to see Sybil, why doesn’t everyone want to see me?” (I had patiently explained to him that there wasn’t much of a market in the world or popularity for aging leprechauns, but some people just can’t face reality, sad isn’t it.) It was all too much.

And then on top of it all, that miserable excuse for a Queen, Layona Sofa, or whatever her name was, brought the entire Chicago Rehabilitation Ward (they call themselves the SHE-DEVILS, never were truer words spoken) and then turned the pageant into a full blown extravaganza !!!!!! Sure I was still everybody’s reason for living, but it was all becoming too, too much. IT ISN’T EASY BEING A SEX GODDESS LET ME TELL YOU. Anyway this thing from New York who confused Vogueing with making faces won and I can’t even remember what her little pretentious one name was: Cher, or Mystique, or DOMINO, or something like that. And there’s Terry with that look of murder in his eyes, and Stephanie with that wicked, wicked, wicked, smile and all those PATHETIC HAS-BEEN CONTESTANTS!!!!!! But I’ll show them. I’LL SHOW THEM ALL!!!!!! I’ve found an incredible Beverly Hills Doctor who has agreed to SURGICALLY IMPLANT A MICROPHONE IN MY THROAT AND THEY’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO STOP ME THEN, NEVER I TELL YOU ! This year ALBUQUERQUE and then THE WORLD !

This was as far as she got. It seems that Sib met her untimely end, not long after writing the last “chapter”, on the operating table of a local veterinarian who had lost his practicing license many years ago during a malpractice suit involving several prominent citizens from Two Egg, Florida. It’s really all too sad. As previously stated, these are obviously the rantings of a mad woman, and the ugly rumors that both Stephanie and I were volunteer Candy Strippers at the Animal Hospital where Sybil met her sad, sad end are just that, ugly rumors. Terry.

 
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