The attitudes of the models should be telling enough (the Other Woman endearingly gawky, embarassed even to be thinking what she's thinking; the Girlfriend at once vulpine and languorous, giving Other Woman what can most generously be described as The Glad Eye; the dorky Boyfriend simply beside himself with glee). But in case we're not quite convinced, the ad throws in a few medieval visual cues - the equal spacing of the three identical cocktail glasses (that all three presumably contain Grand Marnier is almost an afterthought), the neat cluster of three candles in the center of the table. Then there's the subtle tag line: "Adding Grand Marnier to your Margarita can also be enticing." Well, 23 skidoo!

Intriguingly, there is a second man with his back to us in the background - and he seems to be getting served a check by the waiter. We can surmise that this is Other Woman's boyfriend - we might even imagine that Other Woman is negotiating some kind of Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice deal, but the picture's iconography makes clear that there's only room for three at this table, and our buddy with the receding hairline is going to double his pleasure tonight. There hasn't been an add that so clearly sold the promise of Wild Sex since Billy Dee Williams assured us that Colt 45 "works every time." (for him anyway; I never had any luck with The Bull).

Well, I'm all for group sex, but isn't it a little strange that the makers of an expensive liqueur would use such a hokily obvious appeal? Especially considering that it's selling to a presumably well-heeled, more or less educated readership (the ads are running in various slick magazines). Even more important, the all-important 21-45 demographic to which the ads appeal has been learning to read advertising since the fifth grade - old-fashioned sex appeal like this is as transparent as Saran Wrap.

When this ad first started showing up in June, it's shameless priapic appeal seemed doubly strange in light of Grand Marnier's previous ad campaign, which prominently featured images of wedding rings.

So what's up with the great margarita threesome? I can't say for sure, since my calls to "Jackie Langen" in Marnier Lapostolle's marketing department went unreturned, as did my emails to "Gilles Coury," the company's hard-rockin' director of marketing. The company's ad agency, Kirschenbaum, Bond & Partners, was also unavailable for comment (Apparently, the simpleton name carries little clout in these circles).

At this end of the twentieth century, it's clear that boys shouldn't have all the fun, so here Grand Marnier makes the obvious substitution of allowing a woman center stage at the gang bang.

The ad is a quantum leap in sophistication and ambiguity: The central drama in the picture is that the Ice Princess is shooting a rapt glance at the First Man. Since these two are the only characters drinking coffee (the ad places a coffee recipe), we might imagine that this is an old fashioned scene of a woman choosing one lucky guy from among several suitors. But several clues permit the more enjoyable surmise that she might choose all three: there are several upraised ski poles in the background, and all the men have taken some variation of a traditional supplicant pose (and it's worth noting that the woman's busted leg is not raised in any recommended traction position. It's planted bootlike on an ottoman - on top of a pillow which a person wearing a cast wouldn't be able to feel anyway - in the attitude of a dom allowing her boot to be licked). Finally, the tag line - a vast improvement on Ad 1's winking cheesiness - teases us with the idea without quite giving an answer: "Adding Grand Marnier to one's coffee can create quite a stir."

Here, the innocent setting - a ski lodge with a broken leg - allows the ad both to play on the sex-party traditions that the French call après ski, and to reference several perversities without being completely obvious. For the main setting of the picture is that the woman has a broken leg! In one bold stroke, a French cognac maker has made desirable (but unapproachable, since the Ice Princess' union suit serves both to accentuate her curves and to render her sexless) the most odd, specialized, underpublicized fetish of the nineties: Women In Casts.

For every broken limb, there's a broken heart. At this stage, we can no longer kid ourselves that the fetish for seeing women (or men) in plaster or traction is a distinctly Japanese phenomenon. Crash featured a crippled woman in leg braces as a sexual ideal earlier this year, and cast and bandage fetishists have become an active little community. When they gather, orthopedic enthusiasts compare notes, get in touch with other enthusiasts, and draw such helpful distinctions as: "When I see a woman in a cast, I want to be with her, but I don't want to be her." But who wouldn't want to be this woman in the Grand Marnier ad? Nestled in a cozy ski lodge, surrounded by handsome, eager young bucks. This is the life of Riley, and my hat's off to Grand Marnier for its brilliant conflation of polyamory and plaster fetishism. What's the next ad going to be? We can only hope, and though I'm not much of a cognac drinker I'm about ready to run out and buy the biggest, most expensive bottle of Grand Marnier I can find, just so they'll get the message - these ads are terrific! And I'll even offer a suggestion for the third installment: We're at a garden party, where a man and woman are flirting, but it's clear that the man's real interest is in the woman's pre-pubescent daughter (as for how to show all this, I'll leave the details to the ad people). Tag line: "Adding Grand Marnier to your julep gives it a special ripeness." If Mr. Coury ever responds, I'll be happy to make this suggestion. And I'll even offer some deep discount ad space right here at simpleton. Interested parties are advised to contact Jacquie Driscolle in ad sales.