"Wet T-Shirt Contest" by Mike Hunt (MrMike@aol.com). There are some things that people just don't really think about. For example, the guy that pours the water on the young ladies in a wet T-shirt contest has a hard job. Not only is it hard, it's also difficult. He has to wet down the right parts and only those parts of the contestants. This requires technique. This requires savoir faire.

Which reminds me. Mike Hunt gets really pissed when my reviews are funnier or sexier or more literate or all of the preceding than his stories. I'll try to stop that, but it may be hard. Nevertheless, since I've used a hard word - I mean a difficult or unusual phrase - I think I had better explain what "savoir faire" means. My dictionary defines the concept as "knowing just what to do in any situation; tact." That definition doesn't do the term justice. I can do better with a series of examples:

If a Frenchman comes home and finds his wife in bed with another man and says, 'Pardonnez moi!' that is ALMOST savoir faire.

If the same Frenchman instead says, 'Pardonnez moi. Continuez, s'il vous plait!' that's EVEN CLOSER to savoir faire.

But if the Frenchman says, 'Pardonnez moi. Continuez, s'il vous plait!' and then the other man - if he continuez, that IS savoir faire!

Anyway, savior faire and gaucherie aside, Mike Hunt was assigned the responsibility of wetting the T-shirts during the contest, and he was working hard while he performed his chores.

I have a friend who used to be a priest. He once told me that he used to put ice cubes into the baptismal water, because then the baby would yell out in shock at the actual moment of baptism, and this would make it sound like the devil was indisputably going out of the child. Symbolism is wonderful. Mike Hunt likewise used ice cubes in his water during the contest, also to bring out the devil, so to speak. Cold tits are rich in symbolism.

Mike Hunt found that his job was easier if the girls cooperated. For example, if they stuck their chests way forward, then it was easier to keep the water on their tits where it belonged, rather than on their hair or the floor.

Big problem. Contestant Number 3, a major character in this story, was Francis from Phoenix, AZ. I guess people can spell their own names anyway they want; but unless this is a TG story, Number 3 was probably Frances. Sometimes people named Francis call themselves Fanny. That name is in the punchline of a joke about St. Peter and ladies applying for heaven, which was told to me by the priest with ice cubes to whom I referred earlier in this review.

Well, as time went on, Mike Hunt got better and better at his job - I suppose because he was working harder and harder. He became really great at tit-watering. His main job during the contest was to bait the crowd, and he quickly became a master at this task. There may already be even more puns in this review than there are in the story itself, and so I'll let you complete this one about being a master at baiting.

So you may think this is a story about strippers and voyeurism and such. But it's not! It's mostly a combination elevator-sex and phone-sex story. That's right. After the contest Mike Hunt gets stuck on a crowded elevator with Francis, and the elevator gets stuck between floors, and Francis's fanny (see above) gets stuck into Mike Hunt, and.... Never mind, you can read the story yourself. I'll just tell you the other joke.

So these three women have died and have arrived before the gates of heaven, where St. Peter interviews them. {Peter could actually be a funny name in this story, because some people refer to a dick as a peter, but that's not relevant to this joke; so just assume that Peter is really the name of the "person" who keeps a book of good and bad deeds at the gate of heaven.