by David Neilsen

You've all heard of the Bermuda Triangle.

Big place. Planes disappear. Stuff like that.

Well there are many theories as to just what is going on out there. Some say it's a phantom whirlpool or roving storm that snares all travelers who dare to enter. Others claim that an Alien spaceship has set up camp there and will not allow this information become general knowledge. A guy down the street from me swears it's Charibdes, but then he also believes in the Easter Bunny.

I have learned the truth, and it is uglier than anything you could have ever imagined.

Did you ever wonder where all of the supermodels live? I mean you see them on TV and in magazines but have you ever seen them in real life?

No.

And I'll tell you why.

See, all the supermodels and aspiring supermodels and other babes of that sort all live together on one remote island, far away from the contaminating touch of man. And where is this island?

You guessed it. It lies in the center of the Bermuda Triangle.

Long ago, the Total Babes learned that they were different from the rest of us. Separate, superior. They realized, in their infinite wisdom, that they had to live apart from mortal man or tarnish their image forever. No man could be allowed to see a Total Babe go to the bathroom, or shave her pits. Standards had to be kept. And so they created the island of Babeland, a woman-made fortress in the heart of the Bermuda Triangle from which no traveler returns. When the occasion merits it, various Total Babes are sent forth for photo shoots and lingerie commercials, only to be secreted back home, out of danger once again.

No one suspects, no one knows the truth. But the hard fact is, this island fortress is guarded by state-of-the-art military weaponry secured from the military in trade for various health and beauty tips. Any vehicle, be it by air or sea, is instantly attacked by fashionably colored artillery. All survivors of this viscous attack are spirited off to the island, to spend the rest of their lives living in servitude, providing for every whim and desire the supermodel's little minds can think up. Mostly, this slave labor consists of bringing Diet Cokes and sun tan lotion to numerous scantily clad femme fatales.

It is a fate worse than death.

The Government of Babeland is run as a representative democracy, with the positions of state chosen by determining whose line of fragrance is currently selling the most. There are no rules, no laws and no demands. The Total Babes are meant to live in luxury, without doing anything slightly taxing. They spend their days laying out by the pool or doing their nails. If they feel the need to go out, they can visit the perpetual mall, where all items are always on sale, and their credit limit is non-existent. They fear nothing, these women of constant beauty, and are prepared to defend their world with the fiercest of temper tantrums.

So heed my warning noble friends! Journey not unto this harsh land, for you will certainly parish or face a fate worse than death, eternal servitude to the queens of the binge and purge! The Bermuda Triangle is a secret no longer, but is still a terror into the depths of men's souls.