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We've got another big problem. There are no new kinds of swimsuits to show. We've shown models in suits made of bottle caps, cigar bands, cactus, hot chili peppers, paper money, coins, sand, seaweed, chains, lemons and coffee beans. We've featured swimsuits made of fishnet and swimsuits made of fish. We've done bikinis, monokinis, one-pieces, and no-pieces, when we painted suits on the models. All the stylists have left are suits of armor, suits made of live woolly caterpillars and a swimsuit made from a single Taco Bell steak quesadilla. We could show models in lawsuits, I suppose. Katiana wears the latest Al Davis civil action! We could have models eat the suits and then reveal them by X-ray.
Another problem is, we're out of places to set the tiling. We've shot it everywhere on the planet that's warm. We've shot it everywhere on the planet that's pretty. We've even shot in places that weren't especially warm or pretty—Greenland, for instance. What's left? Medicine Hat's Tanning Salons: You'll Flip!
Lord knows we've shot on practically every island known to man. We've done the Hawaiian Islands, the Seychelles islands, the Caribbean islands, Christmas Island and the Falkland Islands. According to our research there are only three islands we haven't shot on: Fire Island, Rikers Island and Gilligan's Island.
Actually, that's not bad. We rescue the old Gilligan's Island set out of some back lot and put it back up. Then we have, say, Rebecca Romijn-Stamos lying languidly in Gilligan's hammock. Or Daniela Pestova snuggling up seductively to the Professor's radio. Or maybe put Marisa Miller (left) in Mary Ann's old polka-dot bikini. That ought to bring the cannibals out.
It's sad, but these are the locations for our next three shoots:
?We'll See More of Ya in Peoria!
?Keokuk, Iowa: Hidden Paradise
? YWCA Pools: Lapping Up Life!
Thankfully, I have the perfect solution. With this idea we won't need a special theme or a perfect location. And we won't need to worry about getting the latest swimsuits. We simply put out the usual assortment of women who would make a Marine bite a hole in a tank but slap a regular SI cover on it. Something boring enough to melt lead. Something like Baseball's Balk Rule: An Exhaustive Report. And then put Bud Selig on the cover. Problem solved.
What woman is ever going to open that?