HFG comes wearing short jorts, yellow tennis t-shirt, sweat bands on your head and wrists, sneakers, and those awful white athletic shoes with a pair of wide yellow stripes across his calves. I come dressed in white disco, with bell bottoms (rather clingy around the crotch), white jacket and yellow print shirt, open nearly but not quite to the naval with collar folded over the lapel of the jacket, white shoes, solid yellow socks, and fake gold chains (yes, plural) across my hairy chest:

We meet near the entrance to the carnival-themed party and see several WAM friendly booths inside the entrance. I wonder what we are wearing underneath, and cannot wait to find out...

I say, "Hey, thanks for inviting me. This looks like fun!" I extend an arm for a handshake.

HarmlessFunGuy grab my hand and pull me into a romantic embrace, kissing me in front of God and everyone. "I wouldn't have had any fun without you here. Hey, I know you like dunk tanks. Want to start there first?" You back up, take my arm, and look questioningly into my eyes.

Yes, let's. I take your hand and walk past a couple food booths (for eating, how quaint and boring) and a tomato throw. As we arrive at the dunk tank, a hot, young, football player type is above the water singing Hit me with your best shot, while what looks like a friend of his (both have matching fraternity shorts on). The shirtless football player is also dancing while the t-shirted friend winds up. He shoots. He scores. Big splash! It is entertaining to watch the wet shirtless hunk climb out and walk off, hand-in-hand with his friend.

We look at the skinny dude in apron, fraternity t-shirt, and khaki shorts running the booth. He turns to us, Sorry, but the guy who is supposed to be up there hasn't made it in yet. Shit. I'd love to get up there - I'm so hot. But I have to watch the money until somebody else from the house gets here.

Not a problem, I say, HFG will get up there for me.

SD looks at you, in a dreamy fashion, clearly hoping to see you wet. But you play hard to get, No way, dude. That wasn't the plan at all.

Oh, come on. Help a guy out! I point at skinny dude, who cottons on and stars pouting.

Alright, but you're getting it later As you turn towards the back of the booth, I swat you on your behind. You turn your head, wink and keep going. I pay the man.

Got any tips or tricks for me? I ask SD.

Only if you want to cheat, he replies.

Damn straight. How can I do that?

I hand him more money, and he pulls out a string I just winks at me.

We need a pitcher, not a belly itcher. How original. I look at you all smug and sexy on the plank above the water. SD hands me the first ball.

And the windup. And the pitch. Thud! A resounding miss!

Ha! You couldn't hit the side of a barn. I guess you are going all full retro.

Another windup. Another pitch. Another thud!

My grandma can throw better than you. You know better than that, since you've seen me juggle. But you don't know my evil plan with SD.

A third windup. A third pitch. A third thud!

Ha! I knew you couldn't do it. SD looks at me and the string. I wink at him as you turn to climb off. At just the last moment, I pull the string.

Lights flash, the klaxon sounds, and you fall backwards into the water. Flailing and splashing. SD and I truly enjoy your humiliation.

You climb up, but before sitting on the plank again, you see a guy walking up to the booth with a t-shirt that matches SD's. He is also skinny, but shorter. Instead, you climb down and walk over to us.

The four of us converge, and SSD says, Sorry I'm late. I guess I need to get up there, huh!
You pipe up, not quite, dude. BP, you point at me, wants a turn up there. SD and SSD both look at me. I see SSD looking hopeful, but SD sweating. I would love to do this, but think better of it.

I don't think so. SD needs a bath!

SD plays along. No, I don't. What are you talking about? You and I grab his arms and frog-march him to the back of the tank. Hey, no. It's his turn. SD points at SSD, but continues walking happily along with us, despite his protests.

We get SD to the ladder, and he stops, still pointing at SSD. Hey, you, you're not getting out of this. SSD smirks. SD climbs up. We make our way to the front. I notice the string still sitting there, but you are not yet aware of how the cheat worked.

SSD is giggling at SD, but looks at us. In his best business voice (considering he is still laughing), So, gonna play? I pull out my money, pay him, and say, Nope.

As I pick up the string, SD sees and starts yelling, Hey, you bastard. Stop that, you cheating, son of a, at which I yank and he falls.

I am merely smirking as SD falls into the water. He said he wanted to cool off, and he is getting his wish. You and SSD, however, are belly laughing. SSD takes the string and hides it back under the counter. We hear a rip.

I look at your butt and see yellow peeking out from where your back seam ripped. You stop laughing, but SSD starts laughing even harder.

What's going on? SD is back up on the plank, but doesn't see what we are laughing at. HFG just lost his pants, I answer. I slide my hand into one of your back pockets.

No I didn't, you respond. I just ripped them. At that I squeeze and pull the jorts the rest of the way off. Both SD's are laughing again now. Seems like you pre-softened the seams, since they ripped right off.

So, now you are wearing only yellow Speedos over your manhood, but still have on the shirt, sweat bands, etc.

SSD pulls the string, and SD falls into the water again. They start a heated, but clearly friendly, argument and I motion us off to the pie booth.

Here, they are staffed and even have a fresh, clean target sitting in the chair. You purchase two pies.

And pay extra so they are extra large.

The clean-cut, gymnastics guy in the bulging t-shirt eagerly takes the money. He looks at us, and his shirtless teammate in the hot seat, with clear lust in his eyes.

I stand next to you as you pick up one of the pies and get ready to launch it. GG is looking directly at you, in great anticipation. You turn and smash the pie in my face, then rub it down my chest (easy with a 70s open collar).

SGT is smirking, and GG laughs out loud. Oh, yes, that's been a very popular option today.

When you get done seeing how far you can reach past my naval, it is my turn. I spit some pie out of my mouth, recover my dignity (as much as possible, since I am leaving most of the cream still on me) and pick up the other pie. You stand next to me, only half expecting retaliation. I take aim at SGT, who looks a little bit uncomfortable. I glance at GG who is clearly eager to see either you or his teammate creamed. So, of course, I pie GG. Well, he was just standing there and asking for it.

SGT falls down to the ground laughing, and you are smirking as well. Man, he his sexy.
GG splutters, wipes pie from his eyes, and says in a resigned voice, I wasn't expecting that, but I guess I should have been.

SGT now looks like he won't mind it when he gets hit. They both look hot as hell, GG taking his shirt off and using it to wipe his face. But I take your hand, kiss you on the cheek (umm, sorry about that cream) and we go on.

We get to the mud show stage just as the show is over and most of the folks have filed out. The muddy actors are still standing there taking the last few tips from the audience. When's the next show? I ask.

In two hours, they say, unless you are going to put on a show yourselves?

Ummmmm, is that okay? Can we get in it? I ask. As long as you don't take any money for it, they answer. The people running this place aren't happy about unregistered vendors.

Ahh, makes sense.

I look at you, and you look at me.

I take off your headband. Since you don't resist or say anything, I go on to take off one, and then the other, wristband.

You look like you are getting excited.

I slip my hands under the hem of your shirt, on each side, and slide your shirt up and over your head. I pull it all the way off, and give you a peck on your lips.

I pause with indecision, but you decide for me and take off your shoes and socks.

I admire your sexy body, and turn you all the way around once. Then I turn you half way around again, so you are facing the mud pit for the the mud show. Silently, I count to three.

One.

Two.

Three.

I goose you [feels really nice]. I know you could recover in half a step, but as I hoped you run forward two-and-a-half steps, trip, and land spread eagle into the mud.

Wow, half of your body is submerged. The other half looks pristine, but after a few seconds has a few mud splatters marring the beautiful sexiness!

You pause for as long as your lungs will allow. Then you push yourself up and turn around.

You are SOOOOO Hot!

You start towards me. Hey, wait. What do you think you are doing? I suspect you are grinning, but it is hard to tell through that mud. I see the guys from the show have paused from their trip to the showers. So has some of the audience.

Stop! Hey, get away from me. I stand there, allowing the inevitable. You wrap me in a big bear hug. Get your hands off me, you big lug.

You turn around, and carry me over the shallow mud. Hey, where are you taking me. What do you think you are doing? I hold still and stiff, so you can keep a better grip on me. You lug me over to the deepest part, and you are up to your knees in mud.

Unhand me, you cad!

Okay. You let go and I drop onto my feet. But that's no fun, so I fall flat on my butt, then onto my back. We get a standing ovation. Well, actually they were all already standing since they were leaving. But they clap.

At this point, you start removing my clothing, and encounter as much resistance as I did.
When we are both down to Speedo's (yes, it seems I remembered mine) you start wrestling with me