Imagine, if you will, a blind man swinging a baseball bat at a bees' nest, thinking it was a pinata. Even so, odds are in his favor he'd knock a drone or two out of the ballpark through random luck.

The same thing happens in The Reel Sex World when Jonathan Morgan and Steven St. Croix get running at the mouth. Over a course of 100 minutes of non-stop repartee, Morgan and St. Croix can be funny.  They will be funny.

The only problem here is trying to convey at what point you should start fast-forwarding, and at what point you should stop this video on a dime to catch the gems among the germs.

Porcelain teacups of classy conversation, Morgan and St. Croix ain't. They're profanely, hit-or-miss humorous, super-enthusiastic guys who have an appreciable abundance of screen chemistry. Only Morgan and St. Croix hover precariously near Jerry Butler territory at times in the premier outing of The Reel Sex World. But, more than likely, from an ardent XXX fan's point-of-view, every second of this tape will seem like a priceless bon mot handed down from the throne of St. Croix/Morgan wisdom.

Leena's presence in this show adds a sense of balance and urgency to get on with some sex when the natural instinct is to go for the pie-in-the-kisser or the joy buzzer. She's in the middle of it all, whether as an instigator or as an interested third party sticking her two cents or two fingers into a sexual situation.

The tape is set up as a day-in-the-life of this threesome. Leena gets a wake-up call from Isis Nile that evolves into a foursome with the guys joining in. If you're a female butt fancier, you get plenty to gawk at, here. However, before this shindig develops into an episode of the Mertzes and Ricardos (and it almost does), Isis bids adieu as the musketeers venture forth in a stretch limo to visit, frolic and fuck. St. Croix nails Tara Monroe at her place, after which Tara's companion Wednesday (Morgan logs in a pretty good sex scene with her, by the way, later in the tape) opts to join the limo conclave when it takes off for an evening's stroll near the beach.

Amusing moments come when a lady palmist does a reading for St. Croix. No, Steve's not a congenital idiot, but some of the conclusions drawn by the fortune teller are sufficiently worthy of Ripley's "Believe It Or Not". The day's adventures wrap up in an in-limo free-for-all, though visually questionable in execution (Morgan comments on this decision) because of poor lighting. Resultantly, it comes off more like the helter-skelter human shadows of the coal mine cave-in from How Green Is My Valley. This is not to say, however, that one down-moment does a video make. Overall, it's brisk, enlightening, funny, ribald and suggests, even though the palmist didn't see it, a bright future for this series.

A must-stock item for fans of these three talented performers.