As everyone knows, all Italians are handsome and hot. Therefore, this was inevitable.

One day, Sergio Turbo stood in front of the mirror, admiring himself. He turned one way, and then the other, admiring his hot Italian body from all angles.

"My goodness, I am so handsome and hot, it's unbelievable. I can hardly believe it myself!" he said.

"I can believe it," said a husky voice.

Sergio spun around and beheld the most handsome man he had ever seen (besides himself, of course). The man was leaning in the doorway, one raised arm against the frame, which perfectly showed off his pecs. He wore a sultry grin on his face and little else.

"Who are you?" gasped Sergio.

"I'm Phobos," said he. "I have a hankering for some hot Italian sausage, and I heard you're the man to see."

Sergio folded his arms skeptically, although he was starting to feel a hankering of his own. "Maybe, but I don't give my sausage to just anyone. What makes you think you can handle it?"

"Well," said Phobos, sauntering into the room, "my family does come from the old country, and I have been known to make some damn good sausage myself. I'll show you my recipe if you show me yours."

This was agreed by both parties to be equitable, and they spent the rest of the evening sharing their hot Italian sausages until they were both sated.