Tongue planted firmly in cheek, DMJ's "take" on the annual Mammalian Protuberance Exposure Festival (otherwise known to you greensters as the Mardi Gras) is a bit more sophisticated, and certainly more abusing, than your average grab 'n' shoot-type featurette.  (It didn't make the cut as an Academy award nominee for best documentary this year, but then again Ayn Rand: A Sense of Life doesn't flash any tit that we're aware of, either.)

Stunning redhead (and Miss Nude World) Alex Taylor kicks off the show with an arousing tease sequence illustrating the exactitude of professional stripping, and generous portions of old smokers are "mockumentarized" to chronicle the history of breast worship.  Even the Mona Lisa gets to flash her jugs, courtesy of some low-tech digital animation.

Naturally, the bulk of the action (pun intended) remains fixed on the hops-fueled revelry bouncing along Bourbon Street, where every manner of boob (pun intended - again) gets their few seconds of fame... followed by a few hours of hangover come morning.  With all manner of tits parading around, one's scorecard could easily become more complicated than a tax return, so the DMJ spin-doctors have conveniently named the cornucopia of hooters with size-specific terms such as "the grapefruit," "the soft pillow," "the champagne glass," and "the fried egg," which taken all together sounds like a pretty good night's entertainment at a Motel 6.  Even more to the point, they've narrowed down the nipplage to "the silver dollar," "the copper penny," "the pencil eraser," and "the nursing home," the latter sounding less appealing than it actually is on camera.

With a soundtrack of blues favorites like Big Titty Woman bolstering the bra-less wonders contained herein, Quest proves to be next breast thing to being there.