The world of haberdashery was left stunned last night as a small one man business in London's fashionable Spitalfields district brought out a range of gentleman's underpants which they claim turn the wearer from a shy retiring loner into an outgoing gadabout with an entire wealth of friends and a little black book crammed full of phone numbers from admiring members of the opposite sex.
The garments in question are being marketed as the Sleezee-Boy Pulling Pants and are flying off the shelves at £78.90p a pair.
The man responsible for producing the pants, Walter Simpkins 53 of Whitechapel and a gentleman's outfitter for 35 years claimed to have stumbled across the idea by accident after tipping Spirit Of Salts limescale removal powder into his pants instead of talcum powder one morning after a shower.
"To my amazement the poweful astrigent effect on my genitalia caused my hips and indeed my entire body to gyrate and convulse in an extremely suggestive manner. The effect on my wife was immediate and startling as she hurled herself on me and ravished my meekly protesting body like a common beast of the field.
"With her behaviour uppermost in my mind I went into the workshop and began work on producing a pair of pants that could replicate the effect but without the necessity to subject the genitalia to the harmful effects of a drain cleaner.
"Eventually I came up with a pair of sharkskin briefs lined with a coarse grit carborundum that would rub and irritate the male body parts and would hopefully therefore bring about a similar effect.
"That night I took a pair to the local niteclub and put them on in the toilets before going onto the dancefloor. To my great joy the effect was instantaneous and as the abrasive lining of my pants tore and raked at my testicles my gyrations and pelvic thrusts grew ever more frenzied.
"Before long I was surrounded by a bevy of scantily clad beauties, all wanting a piece of me as they thrust phone numbers down my pants while I got down to all the latest bangin' choons.
"Since that night I've had to fit turnstiles to my bedroom door and hire a couple of heavies to police the long queue of females outside and to forcibly eject the over 25s.
"Obviously it would be nice if these women weren't so shallow and were interested in me as a person and not just for the moves I can pull off in the sack whilst wearing my undercrackers.
Still you don't like to grumble do you?"