LIKE NO PUPPETS YOU'VE EVER SEEN.

Byline: Evan Henerson Theater Critic

APPARENTLY it is possible to craft an evening of entertainment - and I use the term very loosely - out of just about anything. Including genitals.

Australian duo David Friend and Simon Morley, the creators and exhibitors of the fringe hit ``Puppetry of the Penis,'' are certainly a pair of marvels. They are either cracked masters of entrepreneurial ingenuity or a couple of good-natured blokes who graduated from the ``show me'' antics of childhood to the ``hey, check this out!'' ebullience of pub revelry and simply haven't reached a ceiling. ``Puppetry of the Penis'' played to packed houses off Broadway, on London's West End and at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival.

Spin it as you please, plunk down your $35 to $40 at the Coronet, and you'll witness two gentlemen spending nearly an hour twisting their penises, testicles and scrotums into renditions of birds, beasts, food and historical landmarks.

Morley and Friend, who perform quite naked with a camera trained upon their privates for extreme projection close-ups, call it ``genital origami.'' They even sell a ``how-to'' book in the lobby to teach interested penis puppeteers how to duplicate their ``installations.''

During ``Puppetry'' there's a fair amount of ribald ``don't try this at home'' patter, as if any self-respecting naked man who wasn't three sheets to the wind would get anywhere near a hollowed-out piece of wood (to attempt ``the squirrel''), a cigarette lighter (``the Olympic torch'') or an active fan (``the windsurfer'').

Yes, Morley and Friend are funny, and their act has a shambling and decidedly un-erotic charm. Still, ``Puppetry of the Penis,'' which sent an opening-night audience into continual hysterics, is a one-joke routine, stretched out to nearly an hour. It's a fair bet you've never seen anything like this before. Then again, outside of a Vegas bachelor party, why would you want to? For the record, the twists and tugs look painful, but apparently to a trained professional, there's no discomfort.

Fleshing out the evening is a warm-up act: comedian Alexandra McHale, a wry single New Yorker who cracks wise about relationships, weight and the fact that she's the opening act for a pair of ``twisters.'' Apparently, it's a living.

PUPPETRY OF THE PENIS - Two stars

Where: Coronet Theatre, 366 N. La Cienega Blvd., Los Angeles.

When: 8 p.m. Tuesday through Thursday, 7 and 9:30 p.m. Friday and Saturday, 7 p.m. Sunday; indefinitely.

Tickets: $35.50 to $39.50. Call [phone].