Ok, this is a break down of my exploits as "Zorro." It's basically taking peacocking to the full extreme, and its something I stumbled upon before I ever knew about the community or read The Game.

About me, I'm new to the game, but I've always been a natural around women. I recognized alot of the behavior and routines in Niel's book, just didnt know the names, or how to most effectively put them together. I'm definitely learning a lot! Thanks guys!

This will be my first field report, and it covers several scenes spread out over a couple of years, all connected to my Zorro costume. The girls involved are too numerous to really mention individually, so this will be more about the generalized response I got..

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In the beginning, there was a costume party. I was living in a student dorm in the center of Copenhagen, and this place was infamous for its many wild parties, usually with some cheesy theme or another. This was great for me, because I love girls, and I love dressing up in crazy costumes, and Egmont Kollegiet had it all in spades.

This party had a western theme. As usual, everybody else was dressing up in the predictable outfits; cowboyhats, shoe-polish beards, sheriff's stars and plastic guns. And as usual, I was determined to break the curve. When my hall threw a "party of the gods", all the guys dressed up in togas with olive branches in their hair, and the girls, quite predictably, dressed up as angels. I dressed up as Satan, full tilt. Torn jeans, black leather jacket, red skin, exposed piercings, horns, greased-back black hair, a cape that was actually giant bat wings, and the ability to spit huge fireballs. All those dainty angels had red handprints on their white flowery asses, but that's a whole nother story.

So everyone is going to be a cowboy... I wanted to be something sexy and different, but still fit in. And who is the sexiest man on horseback to ever grace the silver-screen? Zorro. It was a pretty easy decision. Hands down, really. So I slap together an outfit; black boots, black pants, a long sleeved black shirt I can unbutton half way down the chest. I found some black cloth, and cut a cape. The hat? Cardboard and spraypaint. And the sexy accent? That's all me, darling. Hey presto Zorro!

Now, the party itself was pretty uneventful.. except for one small and very important point. I noticed that every single girl I talked to was completely enamoured by my presence. We are talking doggy-dinner-bowl eyes and the works. And then when I hit them with the voice? That soft, rolling, almost vibrating voice with the soothing accent that calms even the guys down? Damn. To really top it off, the costume, the identity, just screams seduction. No. It demands it. To really pull off Zorro, you must seduce the ladies. Anything less, and you are just some nerd in a funny suit. And the girls? They LOVED it. They ate it up, every word, every move, every cheesy line. Drop for drop. They wanted more, they begged for more, they LOVED Zorro!

So fastforward some months, and it is now New Year's. I'm in my room with some friends, we are pretty hammered watching the fireworks and generally getting ready to hit the clubs. I always wear a tux for New Year's, and one of my friends jokingly says that I should wear the Zorro hat hanging on my wall.

"Damn. That's a great idea!" I tie the hat on, pull on the blindfold, and even without the cape, there is no mistaking who I really am. The part takes over my own persona, and off we go into the night, into the flashing lights and smokey corners of a New Year's party gone full tilt in Copenhagen's clubbing district.

In the club, it's an instant success. People are already pretty damn happy, far more so than usually, but now, they have a celebrity in their midst. Everybody wants a picture, guys are laughing and shaking my hand, girls are asking for a kiss. I take it in good stride, and end up making the rounds. I swear by all that is holy, I kissed every single girl in that club, at least on the cheek. Their boyfriends were taking them up to me, just so they could get a picture of their girlfriend kissing Zorro! I shook everybody's hand, always with the same few lines; Hola! Viva la Fiesta! Viva Zorro!! It was a hoot. I was the party.

Now, with great attention comes great responsibility. You will attract not just the beautiful people, but the uglier creatures of the night. And I'm not talking about warpigs. (Zorro treats all women with the same respect, as one would treat the flowers in a rose garden.) No... Great costumes and lots of attention attract trouble, as well. In this case, some half-bent son of a bitch in the depths of a cocain psychosis.

He shakes my hand, like everybody else, but wont let go, trying to squeeze hard enough to crack my knuckles. When I pull my hand away, he laughs and apologizes, and puts out his fist like he wants a fist pound. I give him a sour smile, and a good rap on the knuckles, "Yeah hey thanks man. See you later." Heading back to the bar, I glance behind me, and he is up and a few paces away, his eyes blank in an angry, sociopathic stare, coming straight for me.

Shit. Last thing I need is a fight on New Year's.. I head straight for the bar, I can tell this guy is fucking nuts and is just going to lay into me, but I figure, might as well just take it in the back in front of the bouncers and the bartenders. Anything else, and we will both be kicked out. Pure, unadulterated innocence is the only way here. Take one for the team. Anything for the party.

So I make it to the bar, and I turn around real quick, and the guy is right behind me, hands out-stretched I shit you not like he is going to try and strangle me. And right behind him is my best friend Morten. Skinny little 60 kilo Morten, who just happened to grow up in the worst part of town with the worst kinds of people.

Morten slips a wiry arm around his neck and puts him in a headlock just as he closes with me, and then just kind of hops sideways, slamming this guy down backwards into the ground with so much force, I thought he was going to break his neck.

The bouncers are on them instantly, but there is no fight. The pyscho is completely immobilized, he couldn't stand after that to save his life. But they are both going to be kicked out now... Zorro to the rescue!

The whole bar is watching the scene unfold, and I rush over to the bouncers as they are manhandling both my friend and my attacker, and I proceed to very rapidly explain to them what happened. Of course, Im so worked up, I am still 100% in character, voice and everything. "No, thees ees my friend. Thees other man, he was attacking me! Please, I beg of you, he saved my life. Do not throw him out. It is New Year's! I am Zorro!"

Now normally, if you interfere with bouncers in a fight scene in one of these clubs, you get tossed on your ass, too. But not tonight. The bouncer just looks at me funny, then smiles and nods. "No problem, man. He releases Morten, and shakes his hand, then shakes mine. You guys have a great party... oh Hey, can I get a picture with you? My girlfriend won't believe it.. fucking Zorro, that's an awesome costume, man!"

They toss the other guy out, he can barely walk and he is holding his neck, and we are all jeering at him telling him to enjoy the party out there, in the freezing cold.. We walk back to the bar, we both need a drink, and are promptly surrounded by girls who want to talk to us both... Morten is shy, and even tho I tell them all he is the real hero, he just laughs and says "You handle this one, Zorro. It's all yours buddy" and leaves me to it.

After that great success (believe me I got more than my share of numbers and kisses, but I was with friends, so f-closing was last on my list), it was time to put the costume to the real test. Roskilde Festival. 10 days, 200 bands, 150,000 people, a few square miles of absolute music mayhem. It is chaos, it is crazy, it is absolutely wonderful!

I take the train in, wearing my civilian clothes. No use giving myself away too soon, I think to myself. As we leave Roskilde proper and head into the lightly wooded fields that surround the festival grounds, I begin pulling on my identity, one piece at a time. Black shirt. Check. Black gloves. Check. Long black cape? Check. People start looking at me strangely as I pull a large, black hat out of a bag and put it on. It isn't until I tie on the blindfold that the lights go on for one of the Danish sweethearts, and she exclaims, "Oh! Zorro!"

"Hola, chicas!" I exclaim, and there is clapping and laughing and much feminine chatter. The train lurches to a halt, the door to our cabin slides open, and I leap out into the sun, drawing a blue plastic light sabre I added to the costume just for shits and giggles. Zorro must modernize, after all, he clubs and goes to techno concerts these days. I smile and cut my way thru the crowds, delving ever deeper into the campgrounds that will be my home and testing ground for the next ten days..

Now, wearing a costume like this, especially around so many people, is demanding. People open you ALL of the time. Men and women. You feel a need to stay in character, to be part of Zorro, lest the costume become a strange burdon instead, something you are dragging around instead of something you are. Its hard work, and its not for everybody. And overcoming attention anxiety is just the beginning of it.

But it is fun, and it turns out it is absolutely the best thing I have ever done in all of my days picking up women. There is no need to open people, people open you. Rapport comes instantly, attraction is taken as a given. You step directly into seduction, and the trick becomes more often how long you can keep it up, rather than how to get past their boundaries.

In the next ten days, I became a walking, talking, swinging, drinking, sexy god of seduction. I hit on thousands of girls, quite literally dropping lines on nearly every single girl I managed to come across. I waltzed into every set imaginable, of every color, size, and conformity possible. And each time I was attracted to a girl, each and every time, it was simply a question of how far I could take it before she got embarrassed and tried to run and hide.

Mind you, it wasn't guaranteed. Just because you look hot and act hot (a common joke was to sit at your camp and rate girls by holding up numbers like at a diving competition, I never scored below a nine), doesn't mean every girl was going to kiss you. In fact, you could come on too strong and freak them out, or turn them off... Danes are famous for a social law that says you aren't supposed to be better than anybody else, and breaking this law was taboo for many of them. But with so many girls to work with... well, you become better at recognizing the subtle cues as you approach so you can avoid them, rather than learning to deal with the actual problem. Still, more than 90% of my targets took it positively, and I kiss closed as many as humanly possible, in as short as time as possible.

One of the best examples was a group of Norwegian girls, and their boyfriends, who were waiting for a concert. I addressed the whole group of course, introducing myself as usual. "Hello. I am Zorro. You are enjoying this party, yes?" The guys smile, the girls blush. I take the homliest one, I can see she is the most attracted, and kiss her hand. "You are like a desert rose.." She blushes uncontrollably, and her girlfriends egg her on to kiss me. She looks apprehensive, but its more embarassment than anything, so I dip my hat and go to kiss her .. and she turns quickly and gives me a peck on the cheek.

The response from her friends is unanimous and unmistakingly dissappointed. Another girl, much prettier, marches forward, "Come on, kiss him right! He deserves it!" She smiles at me, and gives me a great tongue kiss, looking very pleased with herself. The other girls begin to shout and laugh, and they form a line, taking turns kissing me full on. Now, there are like eight of them, most of them are 7+, and they are running to the back of the line for another turn every time they kiss me. Its hillarious! I am loving it.

At first, their boyfriends think so, too. They are even taking pictures. Then their laughter turns to chuckles, the chuckles turn to murmers, and before you know it, one of the couples begins openly arguing about it. One of the guys approaches me, and smiling nervously, explains that it was fun, but they think its time that I go. Now I've had more than enough fun, and everybody is drunk, and I'm not there to cause problems , so I bid them fairwell with a sweep of my hat and dash off into the crowd, laughing all the way. I am absolutely ecstatic, I can feel it rushing thru my body in waves!

Another great story happened a few days later. I am with a friend and we are wandering the grounds together, checking out the differently themed camps. It is midday, blazing hot, and we are blazing drunk. We make our way towards a group of girls he knows, staying in "Tramp Camp." They are pushing this slut-themed image, and he is sure its a big win for us.

When we get there, the girls are lounged out under their white pavillion tent in those crappy, low-riding plastic festival chairs, drinking warm beer and hot rum. They laugh when they see us, and he gets hugs and introduces everyone, but the heat and the hangovers are just oppresive, and I can tell there isn't too much energy at this time.

I do my best, but really the best thing I can manage at this point is to just stand back and observe things while drinking ice-cold whisky and soda out of a homemade 2 litre mug, with my back to the sun hiding in the shadow of my cape and hat. Its just too hot, and there is no energy.

But Per is a crazy bastard, and I mean he is the bees knees most natural PUA you ever met. And slowly but surely, he gets the girls worked up and energetic, constantly talking a nonstop stream of cocky-funny bullshit, which he does no matter who he is talking to. That's just Per.

So it gets to the point where the girls are laughing and the music gets turned up, and he is seriously winging me and trying to get me into it, and he comes up with this. "Hey Ian! I mean Zorro! Give these girls a lap dance!" They laugh and I can see in their eyes they want it, but I am seriously not in the mood and resist. I can just feel its not going to work. Too hot, too drunk, too bright out, and definitely some bad music for lapdancing. But they all insist, and I feel compelled. After all, I am Zorro, right?

Well... lap-dancing sucks. At least the old-fashioned way, and I crash and burn, just as I am sure I am going to do. That's framing for you. The girls moan their displeasure, and I am feeling stupid, and Per really sets me up for the sting, openly rediculing my crappy performance. He is serious alpha male, after all.

This puts me off tho, after all, I am fucking Zorro, and it was his crappy idea, so I turn it on him and say, "Yeah? Lets see you do any better, fat ass" and slap his newly forming beer gut (we are both 30) with my light sabre. The girls laugh, and now he has to.

Of course, he does just as poorly as I did. Let me tell you something, if you ever give a girl a lapdance, DO NOT shake your ass in her face like the strippers do for you. Its just NOT sexy. And from my new vantage point as observer rather than actor, I could see everything that was wrong with this performance.

A light suddenly sprang into my head. I knew how to give those girls what they wanted, and what they wanted was sexy fucking excitement. They had seen Zorro, and they wanted to dance with him, too!

"All right girls, I was just fucking around last time. I will give you a lapdance for real. But I am warning you, you probably won't be able to handle it. Are you sure you want a real lapdance from Zorro?" I stare a 7 right in the eyes. She assures me she is ok, but I ask again. "Are you absolutely sure? I don't want you freaking out on me or anything. This is going to be the sexiest thing you have ever tried.." Now they are all worked up and almost too excited to laugh, and she can just nod and smile.

"Ok then, you asked for it" I smile at her, and clear the area, opening their circle of chairs up and removing the beer crate table from the center. The music is still going, crappy as ever, and I start with a few moves, spinning and doing a Michael Jackson-esque dance and playing with my hat, staring at her from underneath. Then suddenly, I drop to all fours, and cat-walk up to her, eyes locked on hers the whole time, a wicked smile on my lips.

She is sitting back low, with her legs spread out in front of her, lazy and half-drunk like, and I cat-walk right up between her legs, smiling that smile the whole time, never breaking eye-contact. She is slightly nervous, and I brush my face up against her thighs a few times, my hips still swinging to the music. There is nervous laughter from the girls, and suddenly I grab her legs and lift them up and plant my face square in the crotch of her jeans and just blow hot air right down into her cootch.

OH MY GOD she squealed like a stuck pig, her legs started kicking, but I held her fast by the ankles and just kept blowing hot air down in her crotch. She was squealing and laughing and she grabs my hair and at first tries to push me away but instead just holds my face down in her crotch and screams for more. Then I start mouthing her puss and biting down on her pants and she's like "Oh my God he's biting me!!!" but she is still holding my face down firmly and kicking like mad, and the whole camp explodes in shouts and laughter, and Per is laughing so hard behind me I swear people could hear him across the festival grounds.

After I did her for a few minutes, she lost her breath, and I backed off, and you can see the wet spot in her pants. The girls are fucking ecstatic and I turn to her friend, an easy 8.5, and ask "You want to go next?" without really asking it. She just grins and says ok, even tho she is wearing a mini skirt. So I skip the dance routine and just go down on her and start blowing into her panties, and she is freaking out, but its too much for her when she realizes that I am licking on her pussy thru her white cotton panties in front of everybody, and she flips over backwards over her lawnchair getting away, laughing the whole time.

The funniest thing was, they had this camp song that went "He likes it, he likes it, he likes it so much he bites it!" and I just happened to fit it exactly, and they flipped out and started singing it in unison pretty much spontaneously.

Well, I did a few more of them like that, and then we said good-bye, and Per couldn't stop talking about it for the rest of the festival. Every time we saw a hot babe, he would tell her in his sexiest voice that she really should have a lapdance from his friend Zorro, cuz I gave the best lapdances ever! The next day we went back to the girls, but they were so embarrassed with their moral hangover, they actually took their Tramp Camp sign down, which was too bad..

Anyhow, after that and many other exploits, I had learned my lesson. I am Zorro, and I have returned for the festival every year since. I have had my picture taken with literally thousands of people, I have been interviewed for the news, and I have gotten on TV more than a dozen times, including MTV Europe. And lets not forget, I have seduced hundreds and hundreds of women.