Molly enters a hotel room. It's nighttime and the hotel room is dimly lit with electric lighting. She finds the control and turns the lights up, all the way up. Molly is a well endowed, black-haired girl of 18-years-old to 21. She would be very pretty, but Molly is wearing the worst possible makeup colors for her complexion, the worst possible hairstyle for her face shape. Her clothes are all wrong and the accessories emphasize the wrong things. Molly is a total fashion disaster area. She slowly examines the room, which is heavily mirrored and contains a bed, a dresser, a digital clock above the dresser, a long couch, an open closet and a waste basket. There's a bathroom door at one corner. There's also a towel rack on the wall near the entrance. Molly then slumps, somewhat dejectedly, in the back corner of the couch.

Bruce then enters the room carrying two large suitcases. Bruce is Molly's handsome, well built, horny boyfriend. Bruce is better turned out than Molly, but still, somehow below par. Bruce opens one suitcase and pulls out a package which he doesn't open, but lays on the dresser without comment. He also pulls out a hip flask. He sits on the bed and takes a swig from the hip flask.

Molly asks: "What kind of a mess did you get us into with this Tropical Atoll resort? First blood tests, a medical exam with questions I wouldn't answer for my mother, ... particularly my mother, even if she were still alive." Molly then shifts to a low, announcer type of voice, "Welcome to Tropical Atoll! We have the finest white sand beaches in the world, set in a warm, subtropical climate zone with cooling breezes during the day. You can enjoy our beaches just as they do in Hawaii, they show a view of a man and a woman walking in the littlest, tiniest bathing suits ever. Or you can go native, they show a view of a man and a woman walking in the nude. It's a friendly place, the man and woman embrace. A very friendly place, man turns and embraces another woman and woman turns and embraces another man, then the new couples walk off. We have sailing, they show a nude man and a nude woman sailing past. We have skin diving, they show a nude man and a nude woman swim past, underwater. We have our own, private night club bare chested men and pantied sluts dance. Etc." Molly takes a deep breath and then continues, "We're very relaxed here, but we do have some rules. Beach wear is very relaxed, they show a man and a woman walk by wearing the littlest, tiniest bathing suits. You can wear a bathing suit or go topless. They show the slut whipping off her top, throwing it on a chair and posing. Or go you can go nude, they both whip off their bikini bottoms, throw them on the chair and pose." Molly lets the indignation flood into her voice, "I mean undressing in public!" Molly pauses to take another deep breath and continues, "Clubhouse wear is a little less relaxed, the man and a woman scurry over and put the bikini bottoms back on and pose, smiling. The genitals must be covered. The two nudies then leave." Molly once again lets the indignation flood into her voice, "Undressing in public is bad enough, but dressing in public? Oh yes, then there's the very private nightclub!" Molly pauses for dramatic effect and then continues, "Nightclub wear is jackets for the men and evening wear for the ladies,