Not even the horrifying visage of manager Phyllis Diller can cool the raging hormones at the Pink Motel, the sort of classy establishment where television theft has reached epidemic proportions, and the average stay is measured in hours rather than days. Optimistic co-manager Slim Pickens is convinced that the motel's new uniform of fringed pink shirts with bolo ties will boost revenues, but the perpetually wisecrack-ready Diller isn't so sure. When Pickens points out that his business innovations have already boosted revenue 18 percent, Diller tartly retorts, "It's up 18 percent because we get the people with hangovers. They think they're checking into a bottle of Pepto-Bismol." The fleabag motel's customers seem to have more on their minds than hangover remedies, however. Those customers include a high-school girl anxious about losing her virginity to her understanding boyfriend, a pair of lawyers trying to put the romance back into their extramarital affair, a star fullback obsessed with recounting his pigskin heroics, and a preppie playboy trying to school his reluctant buddy in the way of the one-night stand. Alas, the road to a successful night of casual sex in a pink stucco environment is littered with roadblocks. The meat-headed jock, for example, alienates his sexually assertive partner by trying to get to know her. She storms off, returning only after he reluctantly admits that he's a virgin. Meanwhile, the lawyers' fling turns into a tense summit on their failing relationship. The high-school virgin's boyfriend tries to assuage her fears about the side effects of the pill by taking one himself, while the lothario tries to seduce an equally jaded and experienced bed-hopper by giving her a signed photo of himself as a token of his esteem, considerately pre-praising her sexual performance. By the end of the evening, virginity has been lost, cads have been punished, and the motel's amorous guests have checked out, leaving the titular establishment with plenty of room for its primary source of income: hopeless alcoholics who mistake it for a giant bottle of antacid.
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