Comic Jackie Vernon often told this droll story about a man who travels half way 'round the world to the palace of the high llama in Shangra-la to find the true meaning of life. The man goes through a voyage of the damned only to have the llama hit him with a groaner punch line. Jerome Tanner's newest effort, Nymphette, is on the same order. Groans and all.

Careena Collins plays a sexually overactive young woman who is looking for the ultimate orgasm — which she is told lies in the secret of the "Chinese silk-sleeve job." So, like any dutiful orgasmic-bound woman on a mission, she seeks the one person who can give it to her. This then sets the stage for some bad puns, complete with off-the-wall characters, standard sex bits and MTV-style video razzle dazzle. Vernon's story was a little less winded and funnier.

Collins bed hops from a house of pleasure (where she can have the Tuesday night special: three ballerinas, a Clydesdale, two airplanes and a marine) to the Sheik Abad Mutha (Ron Jeremy). The sheik may be the lion of the desert, but his jokes are as funny as a three-hump camel. Unfulfilled, Collins continues her sojourn to the Himalayas and the waiting crotch of master guru, Mahatma Fokir (Mike Homer). Well, Fokir does that, but has kind of lost the gas for the silk-sleeve job. So Collins hits the road again only to discover the guru's pupil is now a sexed-out junkie, and, likewise, can't deliver the goods. To paraphrase Porky Pig, that's it folks. I guess we wait for the sequel.

Collins manages to be ferociously intense throughout her sexual escapades, but that's the extent of the energy in this wearisome cruise to nowhere. With lines like "Do you know Yoga?" "You mean the bear?" this yabba dabbo do doesn't.