The Hottest Australian Dude Ever Takes His Shirt Off

Jack Riley was the hottest dude in Australia. Maybe the world. It’s hard to say for sure because what makes an Asian dude or an Irish dude hot is different than what makes an Eskimo dude or a Russian dude hot. But in Australia, where male hotness is defined by a standard metric, he was the hottest by far. Even if you counted the Aboriginals, though no one did.

Jack Riley had been hot ever since he could remember and was pretty sure he had still been hot before that. His parents told him how people used to come up to them and comment on what a sexy baby he was, even though that’s a super weird thing to say to a baby’s parents. But they understood. He was sexy. Even when they had to wipe his tight little bottom because he’d crapped all over himself, which babies are known for doing, they were surprised by how much dignity and poise he managed to retain in such a compromising position.

As Jack Riley got older, his parents found it hard to keep a babysitter. The teenage girls that would come over to watch him would inevitably start calling at all hours of the night, asking if they could talk to Jack or if he needed to be babysat right then. His parents were obviously unnerved by such behavior and so none of the sitters lasted very long.

When Jack Riley reached his teenage years, things got absolutely nuts. Wherever this little Adonis went, girls and gay dudes were falling over themselves to talk to him. Who could blame them? Physically, he was just perfect. He had the chiseled features of a marble Mark Ruffalo, and his voice sounded like a Brawny paper towel dipped in honey. Everything about Jack Riley was perfect, except one tiny little thing: He never took his shirt off.

Now everyone has been around people that won’t take their shirts off. Normally they’re fat kids at swimming pools, people with obvious third nipples, or girls that don’t give a fuck about getting Mardi Gras beads. But those are all pretty understandable reasons to not want to take your shirt off. But what was up with Jack Riley? What was he hiding under there aside from a lean, mean six pack and some perfect nickel sized nipples?

Naturally, once Jack Riley turned 18, he was instantly hired on at Australian’s top modeling agency. He was like Zoolander, except handsome and not a troll like Ben Stiller. He became not only the hottest dude in Australia, but also the most famous. Even though that’s not much of an accomplishment because Australian only has like, 400 people living there, Jack Riley was still a big deal down under.

But with fame comes attention and eventually people started to realize Jack Riley never took his shirt off. Most male models don’t even own shirts, but Jack Riley was always covered up up top. Even at the beach, where Australians spend 99.9% of their time, he would be wearing a t-shirt or a wetsuit.

The paparazzi started coming up with wild theories. Maybe he had a birthmark shaped like something weird, like a pretzel or a country? Maybe he did have three nipples? Maybe four? Why wouldn’t he take his shirt off? The controversy raged across the tabloids.

Ladies started coming forward claiming to have boned Jack Riley. A lot of them were lying because when you’re the hottest dude in Australia, lots of ladies like to say they tapped that, but some of them were legit. What would be the point of being the hottest dude in Australia if you didn’t tag some tail now and again? Jack Riley was a stand up guy, so he wasn’t all over the place like some sex crazed George Clooney clone, but he did date and his exes started talking to the press saying things like, “You know what? Now that I think about it, you’re right. He never did take his shirt off. Not even in the shower. God, how did I not realize that when we dated for two years?”

Finally, the government got involved and issued an official edict declaring that Jack Riley must come to a special government tribunal and take his shirt off. Australia does stuff like this all the time. They don’t even let their kids play Grand Theft Auto. True story, but what would you expect from a country whose water goes down the drain backwards.

Jack Riley didn’t want to get a booting (the punishment for non-compliance) and so he showed up at the designated time and place. His only request was that no press or outsiders be admitted. The tribunal agreed because Jack Riley is so hot that he gets whatever he wants basically all the time.

The tribunal was three decent looking middle aged ladies. They had used all of their political power to get on the tribunal because Jack Riley was so hot, they were literally dying to know what was under his shirt. Literally dying. They had all developed stomach cancer.

Jack Riley entered the room and took a seat before the panel. His hotness hung thick in the air like blunt smoke at a Snoop Dogg concert. He waved his sandy blonde hair back with his hand, his well manicured fingernails glinting in the light, and looked up at the ladies with his deep ocean blue eyes. He cleared his throat, causing the tribunal to squirm in their seats, and said, “G’day ladies. Is there any way we could not do this?” They shook their heads no. “Crikey,” he said.

He sighed helplessly, causing the tribunal to squirm more, and then shrugged and took his shirt off.

All three members of the tribunal barfed. They barfed hard. Right there on Jack Riley’s chest was the nastiest little midget baby creature they had ever seen. It was as if someone had pickled Danny Devito and then covered him in movie theater nacho cheese. The snotty little goober looked up at the tribunal with its dead milky white eyes, and barfed. The tribunal barfed again. Everyone barfed.

Jack Riley didn’t barf. He put his shirt back on, and then looked up at the tribunal, throwing them the sexiest model stare he had in his arsenal. They froze. He calmly explained that it was a rare birth defect but plenty of people still had little disgusting mutants living on their chests and it wasn’t a big deal. He asked that they keep it quiet and said that in exchange, he would bone each of them.

The tribunal talked it over. That boogery pusball had been pretty gross, but now the shirt was back on and they really couldn’t even see the bulge anymore. And Jack Riley was there, offering them the sexual experience of their lives. And he was hot. Hell, he was the hottest dude in Australia, if you didn’t count that… that thing. They said deal.

The tribunal made an announcement the next day that Jack Riley had a perfectly normal human chest and that if anyone in Australia ever bugged him about the shirt thing again, they would get a hard boot to the dingo.

And that was the one, and only time, the hottest Australian dude ever took his shirt off.

THE END