Just when Richard was hoping to rid himself of the “medieval mullet,” what did TPTB do? They gave Sir Guy even more hair courtesy of extensions. But we all know Our Richard is not one to back down from a challenge. And so his brand new mane was incorporated into the story arc for the troubled Sir Guy in S3.
From the wild-eyed, boozy, half-mad, near-suicidal mess of early S3, to the sleek and newly confident Sir (Glamour) Guy post his visit to PJ’s Red Door Salon and Spa, Richard worked that hair, baby. Whether as a tangled, greasy curtain to hide Guy’s shame and self-loathing, or a lustrous mane to be tossed back in a fit of anger or flicked back with great disdain like some proud, defiant stallion, I cannot imagine S3 Guy without that mane. And all that excellent hair acting by Richard.
Thwarted by Isabella
“Hi there!” *grumble grumble grumble*
And here’s a reprise of the poem I wrote a while back celebrating Sir Guy’s hair and more pretty piccies of Guy and his gorgeous mane.
Sir Guy: The Rightful Hair
A lighthearted little homage to Sir Guy’s tresses . . .
Sir Guy, dear Guy, I love your hair;
Sometimes it seems to be unfair
For the villain of the piece to be so blessed
While the hero is rather—scantily–tressed.
Oh, some may jest at your mullet medieval
with its cluster of lush raven curls;
Or at your floppy Guy locks
their derisive, dismissive howls, hurl . . .
But surely none can deny the power of the Angsty Guy Mane
Those long, unkempt jetty locks, so wild and untamed,
Never have lank and greasy been quite so—fetching,
And the glory of Glamour Guy—aah, makes our hearts sing!
Oh, yes, you work it, that amazing mane,
First as a curtain to hide your deep shame,
Then as an arrogant, proud dark stallion stamping its feet;
Is it any wonder watching you, I always feel such—heat?
And meanwhile, your nemesis, what of he?
His receding hairline, we now clearly see.
Sweaty combat reveals his balding pate,
Makes us understand why you he hates.
For you have the hair, the teeth, the physique;
“But I am the HERO!” he cries in a fit of pique–
And clutched his locks in full-blown despair,
Oops—watch out! More comb-over needed there.