One in a long line of comedies in which macho boors learn to be better men by walking a mile in ladies' shoes, this vulgar farce ups the ante by adding race to the equation and then squanders every opportunity for sharp comedy in favor of pratfalls and fart jokes. Bumbling FBI agents Kevin and Marcus Copeland (Shawn and Marlon Wayans) imagine themselves masters of disguise, but their elaborate games of dress-up produce no arrests and invariably end in expensive property damage. The Copelands' boss (Frankie Faison) has had it with their hijinks and they're one screw-up away from getting fired when they volunteer to baby-sit the wealthy Wilson sisters (Maitland Ward, Anne Dudek), a pair of peroxided tramps in danger of being kidnapped. The actual case is nonetheless handed to rival agents Harper and Gomez (Lochlyn Munro, Eddie Velez), leaving the humiliated Copelands playing chauffeur to the spoiled party girls. Tiffany and Brittany refuse to go through with their weekend social plans after a fender bender, so Kevin and Marcus decide to go undercover in their stead, figuring that catching the would-be kidnappers will get them back in the boss's good graces. Wacky complications ensue as the brothers get a crash course in how the other half lives. Funny premise, fatally clumsy execution: Shawn and Marlon Wayans look nothing like white chicks, let alone anorexic socialites with posh haircuts and up-to-the-minute wardrobes. They also don't look like the actresses who play the Wilson sisters, which lets the air right out of the screwball climax in which the real and fake Wilson sisters wind up at the same fashion fundraiser. They don't even look like drag queens, because their faces are buried under puffy latex appliances that look artificial on film and yet are supposed to fool high-society vulturettes who can spot a top-of-the-line boob job across a charity-benefit crowd. There's suspension of disbelief and there's "you're joking, right?" and this movie comes down squarely on the wrong side of the divide — even the none-too-subtle SORORITY BOYS (2002) conceded up front that its college lads in drag made for co-eds so ugly they had no choice but to pledge Delta Omicron Gamma. The mere sight of strapping men in micro-mini skirts suffering the indignities of thong underwear, catcalls and pushy pick-up artists is good for a couple of lowbrow laughs, but they're buried pretty deep in dreck.