... with the DAVESHAVES Shaving Collection
Gideon Brake draped the red velvet-lined cloak around my shoulders, then stepped back to cast a critical eye over my now-completed evening attire, fingers flicking around the folds of expensive cloth, as accustomed to making delicate, sartorial adjustments as they were to taking out the eyes of would-be assassins.
'There, sir,' he said, finally. 'Perfect.'
'Thank you, Brake,' I said. 'What would I do without you?'
'Starve, probably, sir,' said Brake, dryly. He had a point. I'd wager that where scrambled eggs and kippers on wholemeal toast are concerned, no one - not even a triple-Michelin starred kuiristo - would be able to prepare them with quite the same flair as Gideon Brake.
'Well, yes, absolutely,' I said. I ran a hand around my cheeks and chin and marvelled, not for the first time, at how smooth they were. Gideon certainly knew how to wield a straight razor, and not just in battle. His skills at rendering a once be-stubbled cheek to the smoothness of polished glass were second to none. That thought reminded me of the idea I'd had earlier that day.
'What the world needs right now, Brake,' I said, as he flicked a spec of something off my shoulder, 'is ...'
'Love, sweet love, sir?' he said. You can call him many things - butler, personal bodyguard, gardener, chef, thinker, poet, painter and posh thug - but slow-witted isn't one of them.
'No,' I said. 'Not that. No - I was thinking more along the lines of a DAVESHAVES video featuring some of the razors reviewed on the website.'
'An interesting idea, sir,' mused Gideon. 'Would you care to elaborate?'
I nodded eagerly.
'I could get my good friend J________, otherwise known as The Concrete Fox, to come up with some music for it.'
'The Concrete Fox, sir?' said Gideon, raising a quizzical eyebrow. 'I don't think I've made his acquaintance.'
'No, well, yes, no,' I said. 'I don't suppose you would have, Brake. The Concrete Fox is the host of the wildly eclectic No More Love And Flowers podcast. He's celebrated as a man of great musical sophistication. He'll be able to provide the video with something appropriate, or my name's not Magnus Harker, Architect of the Paranormal.'
There was an awkward little pause.
'Er ... your name isn't Magnus Harker, sir,' said Brake. 'And you're not an Architect of the Paranormal.'
'Hmmm. You're right,' I said. 'Oh well. Maybe I could just get him to do a loop of music taken almost exclusively from films of an adult nature made in the 1970s?'
'Excellent, sir,' said Brake, removing his trousers. 'Excellent.'