SPARKLY 2025
[Camera phone quality. Glitter. Confetti. Three ripped, oiled-up men in sparkly trunks holding champagne.]
Mr. X (grinning at the camera): “You’ve been very good to us in 2024… but we know you can be even worse in 2025.”
[He winks, flexing just a bit as he raises his glass.]
Mr. X: “From rooftop hookups in Paris to some seriously wet nights on yachts off Mykonos... 2024 was a ride. You remember Ibiza? Three days. No clothes. Just oil, bubbles, and me.”
(He smirks.) “And you.”
Mr. Y (laughing as he sips): “Milan Fashion Week, babe. You needed a plus-one. But what you got was a backroom session you’ll never forget. That couch? Still sticky.”
(He blows a kiss to the camera.) “Ciao.”
Mr. Z (cool and quiet, lounging against a speaker, glimmering trunks riding low): “Private villas. Fireworks. Leather. Lace. I’ve been a lot of New Year’s resolutions. The kind you break… again and again.”
Mr. X (running his finger along Mr. Z’s abs): “We’re not just fantasy, baby. We’re fulfillment.”
Mr. Y: “Weekend trips. Private parties. One-hour hotel miracles. You bring the curiosity. We bring the… everything else.”
Mr. Z (deadpan): “Our 2025 is wide open. And so are our legs — for the right client.”
NOW BOOKING FOR 2025
Private. Naughty. Premium service, maximum satisfaction.
Start the year wet, hot, and never alone.
[Cut to party lights going wild. Music thumping louder.]
The guys are now under a confetti shower. Suddenly — a bottle of oil tips. Mr. X is dripping, shiny and flexing. Mr. Y comes up behind him, grinding, rubbing the oil in with both hands, lips brushing his neck. Mr. Z is on his knees already — you know what’s coming.
They’re slick. Gyrating. Touching each other like they forgot anyone’s watching.
Mr. X: “Get that camera closer.”
Mr. Y: “Yeah… they want to see this.”
Mr. Z (looking up): “Bet they wish they were here right now.”
One sequin trunk drops.
Then another.
Then the third gets ripped off.
The music hits its peak. They're kissing. Moaning. Fingers tangled. Skin on skin. Champagne spraying.
SCREEN FADES TO BLACK.
A final voice, deep and teasing:
“Happy New Year, Lovers. We’ll be waiting.”
— Mr. X, Mr. Y & Mr. Z
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