"I need this."

"I make Rambo look like a woman."

"I just got out of jail. I'm on parole. How old are you?"

These were the best pick-up lines in Portsmouth last Thursday, June 2, as finalists in The Den coffee shop's contest were invited to the mega-reality setting of Commercial Alley to wield their charms for prizes. A half-dozen 20-something men sat in a row next to four judges; an easily amused woman named Michelle sat at a table nearby, waiting for the words that would transform one of the wanna-be's into a take-home prize.

Each man stood in front of the judges and announced his name before sitting down at the table across from Michelle. The first three entries, delivered by Damien, Nathaniel and Matt, respectively, got the crowd laughing. Next up was Chel, who simply sat in the chair, smiling contentedly and looking like he was having a good time. "With a face like this," he explained, turning to the judges, "words are for the weak."

Dan, an interloper, stepped up from the sidewalk to take a crack at it. He set up two chairs side by side-"It's situational," he explained, "I'm driving a car"- and motioned for Michelle to make like she was walking down the street. One hand on the wheel, elbow on the door, he crooked a half smile at her. "Get in the car," he said. She looked taken aback, then laughed. "Come on," he said, patting the seat next to him. She considered for a minute, then walked around and got in.

Damien asked if he could try again.

He approached Michelle tentatively. "I kind of get the feeling like it might be alright to, like, kiss on you a little bit." ("It works because it's very vague, there's no fear of rejection," he explained to the judges.)

More contestants stood up for another try, taking turn after turn.

"I'm a Libra," Matt said.

Joe, wearing a tux jacket, sat down at the table and mustered up a James Bond suave. "You're next," he told Michelle, looking her dead in the eye.

"Could I buy you an ice cream cone? Come on. We're going to Annabelle's," Dan countered. (Another contestant admired his style: "He's always there with the follow through.")

"I'm only 20, but I can drink at your place," Matt offered.

Shawn, watching from the sidewalk, asked if he could try.

The picture of enthusiasm, he leaned around the table to get a better look. "Damn, girl, are those space pants? Because your ass is outta this world."

Damien returned, standing next to her. "My eyes are up here. What are you looking at?"

The ladies, watching from the sidelines all night, took their impromptu turns, each disclaiming that these were lines used on them. "Have you been between these sheets before?" Marlene asked. "That shirt's really becoming on you. If I were on you, I'd be coming, too," Erin pitched. The crowd was groaning. Then Michelle stepped up. She asked Chel to sit in a chair; then before anyone realized what she was doing, she dumped a cup of coffee all over his lap. No one could tell if it was by accident or on purpose, but it got Chel's attention, and ours. She thought she'd spilled her water on him, not his coffee, and she profusely apologized, laughing so hard she couldn't speak, and the deal was sealed. It was the most convincing connection of the night, and Michelle hadn't even had the chance to deliver her line: "Sorry about the spilled beer, here, let me wipe it up with my skirt."

Five prizes were handed out: Damien got the "One More Time" prize; "Rambo" Nathaniel earned fifth place; "I just got out of jail" Matt earned fourth place and "space pants" Shawn earned third; Joe got "Best Dressed"; and Chel earned the "Biggest Loser" award, which came with scratch tickets by the same name. The big winner of the night, seen wearing his crown and sash around Market Square the next day, was Dan.

He thought about making an acceptance speech, then faltered.

"I don't know what to say," he said.

"Yeah, you do," answered Michelle.