Pontchartrain Subterfuge

Tonight's pairings: Mark with Jenna, Carla with Dave. Three crawfish etouffees, three chilled Caesar salads; one New York Strip, and a spinach salad with hot bacon dressing. With all this food, three bottles of Sauvignon Blanc are just enough to lower inhibitions and loosen tongues.

"Well, compared to Lake Michigan, your lake is a mosquito pond," Dave scoffs, mocking the local Pontchartrain Lights legend.

Carla, undeterred by Dave's arrogance, flirts with both boys. Coat after coat, she paints her lips with six luscious swipes of dark-red lipstick.

Jenna, her brow furrowed, eyes squinted and glaring at her girlfriend, fakes disgust. "You two-bit hussy," she says. Three seconds later, her ruse failing, she grabs Carla's lipstick.

"The boat's still here, right?" Jenna asks.

"Uh, yeah... Slip twenty-four," Mark stammers, staring at the alluring vixen.

"Okay, it's time for the adult-play part of our evening," Dave proclaims, growing impatient. "Two more bottles to go, s'il vous plaît." His rudimentary French disgusts the women.

Wine in hand, the foursome strolls to the pier. A staggering misstep by Dave slams his head into a cypress knee. "Who puts a tree in the middle of a doc?" he shouts, hiding embarrassment.

"Poor baby. Let momma make it better," Carla teases, then kisses his lips.

Twenty minutes later, their desires raging, they anchor at Bull Shark Alley. Mark and Jenna descend into the cabin. Dave and Carla remain topside.

Fifty-seven minutes later, Mark makes a distress call over the VHF marine radio. When the police arrive, Dave is missing.

When questioned, Carla tells a tale of passion, Pontchartrain Lights, a heaving boat, and a terrible fall. Her smeared lipstick, along with Mark and Jenna's testimony, supports her story. Despite being LSU's starting quarterback, few students liked Dave. But Pontchartrain bull sharks liked him just fine.