There was only one time in history the known world was ruled by one man:

Alexander the Great. Considered one of the greatest military generals ever, he conquered the world by leading his vast army through 22,000 miles of battles on foot, no less. But, hey, you can learn that from any history book.

What you won’t learn (and probably won’t see in Oliver Stone’s movie) is that Alexander was a man-loving, cross-dressing drama queen who frequently burst into hydrogen-powered catfights. For the uncensored version, turn to the newest and most unusual book written about the legendary hero: Alexander the Fabulous: The Man Who Brought The World To Its Knees (Alyson, November 2004).

Authors Michael Alvear (Men are Pigs but We Love Bacon) and Vicky A. Shecter have written the first historically accurate comedic biography of Alexander the Great.

Some of their claims about Alexander are so over the top, the story is almost unbelievable. Like Alexander doing drag. Apparently he loved to dress up as Artemis, the goddess of the hunt. A quick fact-check confirmed that the ancient writer Ephippus described the drag shows in detail.

Alexander also loved to dress up in the ultra-feminine flowing robes of the Persian kings he vanquished. Here’s where the authors shine. They’ll take a known fact like that and support it up with hysterical scenarios. Take a peek:

“The Macedonians criticized Alexander for going Persian. You were supposed to plunder, pillage, and rape the people you conquered, not prance into their dressing rooms and see if they had anything in your size. Resentment simmered. Every time the Macedonians brought the subject up, Alexander put them off, saying, ‘I know we need to talk but first, do you like my shoes?’”

This kind of juxtaposition between ancient facts and modern musings makes the book a page-turner. In talking about Alexander’s life-long love affair with Hephaestion, for example, the authors cite ancient Cynic philosophers who wrote, “Alexander was only defeated once, and that was by Hephaestion’s thighs.” That’s funny enough, but the authors go further, saying Alexander’s relationship was so hot, “whenever Hephaestion came over, his bedroom sounded like half-off day at the liposuction center.”

When describing his legendary vanity, “Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the prettiest conqueror of them all?” The authors point out that Alexander was the first warrior to shave. Alexander always rationalized his shaving as a combat advantage. If the enemy couldn’t grab you by the beard, he’d have a harder time killing you. But the skeptical authors turn a gimlet eye on Alexander’s official explanation. “Historians have waved their bullshit detector over that one and can’t decide. Let’s just say there’s a whole school of thought that says Alexander didn’t like hair on his face for the same reason Narcissus didn’t like ripples in the water, it got in the way of the view.”

The writers get a tad more serious on the chapter covering Alexander’s military exploits (from ready-to-wear to ready-for-war). The descriptions of the battle scenes and his brilliance in outwitting his enemies are as funny as they are educational. But after dazzling us with his victories, the authors remind us of a crushing irony: “History’s greatest military leader could not serve in today’s armed forces.”

The book is uneven in spots. The humor is sometimes unnecessarily crude and the authors occasionally get repetitive, for example, using the same story to show Alexander’s penchant for drinking, then repeating it in the chapter about his “plutonium-grade” tempter tantrums. Sometimes the comic devices soar, like the timeline section, and other times they fall flat (the illustrations are juvenile and add nothing to the story while the map of Alexander’s trail doesn’t have a funny thing on it). Still, Alexander the Fabulous will make you wonder why all books on historical figures couldn’t be this entertaining.