A long romp, and seemingly inexhaustible, uses Vital magazine, true to montage, Veta! where along with the high martini consumption and close interoffice communicating, they worship the Goddess of Fun. Following exposition of , practices and personnel (the orientation provides some of the funniest moments here), this settles down- relatively speaking- to individual involving a number of writers, researchers, photographers, etc. There's Harry Gaskin, a writer, whose attraction for all women is only rivalled by the ""supernal"" sex appeal of photographer Monty Shanks, but neither makes it with unapproachably virtuous , the terror of the bureaus and confidante-accoucheuse of the younger researchers; , a formidable woman photographer who proves single minded on an assignment; Armbruster, management consultant; and many, many who find backgrounds for their activities from a congressional committee in Washington to a cross-country campaign trail.... Brinkley's story itself is a kind of sprawling layout for a lot of slick, slapstick farce- and probably some of the readers who wet their feet in Don't Go Near the Water will agree with one of Vital's acolytes- ""Things are really alive"". Men particularly.