It's 1967, and every day, more boys raised in the fields of Iowa or the streets of Detroit pour into the jungles of Indochina. President Lyndon Johnson apparently decided to pull the breaks on fighting poverty and discrimination at home in favor of bombing the shit out a country thousands of miles away. Back home, the boys and girls you grew up with smoke pot and screw strangers while talking about how they're gonna stick it to the man and end the war with the power of peace and love and The Rolling Stones.

But that's nothing to concern yourself with. You're an American GI serving in Lyndon's quagmire for a year now. Like most of the GIs here, you have balls. And a man's balls require regular emptying or else he gets cranky. There are hundreds of thousands of pairs of American balls in this country, and not all of them are always satisfied with WWII surplus issues of Yank magazine.

Fortunately for them, relief is never far away. Many Vietnamese women will provide the Americans with what they need if they have the army scripts to pay for it. Some do it because they lost their homes or farms to a bombing run. Others because they lost their husbands or fathers in a VC raid. Some just because they like the look on a man's face when he cums, and want to make a living off that euphoric high. Whatever the reason, a number of these women can be found at the Pink Tigeress in Saigon.

Owned by thr mysterious Madam Fantastique, this establishment is one of many places frequented by American soldiers on leave. But once they have a taste of the Tigeress, they never go anywhere else.

You never really thought places like this were your scene, but during your last mail delivery, you got a letter from your sweetheart back home. Apparently, she's not longer the sweet and innocent girl you fell in love with. She's gotten caught up in the anti-war crowd and says she's leaving you for a man she met at a music festival. She encloses with the letter a series of profanities calling you a murderer and a war criminal, as well as a photo of herself completely naked and smoking a blunt while flipping you the bird.

With no vows of faithfulness holding you back, you decide that you can finally scratch that itch. You let your 3 best friends take you to this place in Saigon that they keep raving about next time you go on leave. After all, you 4 have killed and bled together in battle, so it makes sense that you would party and seek relief together as well. Make some good memories and some good times out of this fucking shitshow.