It takes a certain kind of Vision to write and direct an edgy anal comedy that draws as much inspiration from the religious trilogy of the late paranoia-squeezed novelist Philip K. Dick (Valis/Divine Invasion/Transmigration of Timothy Archer) as it does from the Dark Brothers.  That this skewed mindset belongs to Charley Crow, whose non-porn efforts are an excellent representation of the low-budget Scary-Ass Rednecks-Contemplating-The-Rewards-And-Repercussions-Of-A-Spiritual-Afterlife horror sub-genre (Red Spirit Lake; We Await), is every bit as shocking a concept as coming home to find your cat purring away in front of the heating vent.

In other words, we'd expect nothing less.

This time, Crow takes on the neo-religion/addiction of home shopping converts (and the hapless sinners who marry them).  If you've read Transmigration, you'll remember the character of Tim Archer as something of a holy fool; Crow's Tim Archer (Tom Byron) however, is more a garden-variety moron.  Byron, who employs a Gomer Pyle accent here, has just been fired from his 13-year factory job with "Unified Resources" by boss John Mystrom.  "You may be losing your job today, but there's a dozen qualified Guatemalans who are gaining employment tomorrow," Nystrom explains patiently.  "Remember: 'Crisis,' in some languages, means 'opportunity.'"

In American, however, it just means more horrible bullshit.  Byron goes home to wife Monique for consolation, and finds her in a housecoat and curlers, transfixed by the "Home Pyramid Shopping Channel"; with the phone in one hand and her credit card in the other.  All he wants is for his little woman to "do her wifely duties," but it isn't until he flushes her plastic down the bowl that he can tear her interest away from the television long enough for a pre-nom worthy anal session.

Like any good junkie worth her substance-deprived irrational behavior, Monique conks him on the head with the telephone receiver when her shopping jones kicks in, and sends him spinning off to a series of dream-states.  Tommy first finds himself back at work, wandering around the warehouse, when Alana - the perfect picture of innocent blondness in a pastel flowered dress - beckons.  He stalks her, grabs her, and hits her.

"Just let me suck your cock; please don't make me fuck you," she pleads, and he complies with her request, until he can't.  "It ain't enough," he growls, urgent and creepy, soon forcing her to sit on his cock in a wonderfully executed ass-slam.  (And before the P.C.-inclined start whining, mid-way through the scene Alana turns from victim to willing participant).

Bring-a-ling-a-ling; it's the fucking phone again, always causing trouble.  This time the call's for Byron.  "You had to do it, didn't you?  You had to take the bait," says the voice on the other end.  Tommy, apparently, has just taken an epic chomp on Satan's Zebco 33, and he's reeled into a multi-layered bad trip.  He's restrained and incarcerated onthe set of the home shopping channel, forced to watch Monique get d.p.'d by cops Luciano and Van Damage ("Officer McNuñoz - that's with an eñe,") who seem to be gripped by donut-induced delirium.  Note the creative use of Luciano's night-stick....

Byron's blown away - literally.  A gun appears at his head, and he's transported to Stryc-9 and Iroc's grainy version of reality for more anal sex.  They can "heal" him, they insist.  But like all girls, they just want his credit card, and he's sent to a bloody body-part-strewn dungeon for punishment with "devil girls" Jewel Valmont and Kenya, who feast upon his asshole before accepting his bone in theirs.

"We're in prison.  We may drive, and shop and eat and fuck, but we are in prison," cries street preacher Sam Everlast at the beginning of the vid.  And as Tommy eventually emerges from his solitary hell to go straight into the one he shares with Monique, you might find yourself tossing out a few Amens.  Pre-nom the vid for Best Video; Tom Byron for Best Actor; Monique for Best Actress; Alana for Best Supporting Actress; Byron and Alana for Best Anal (Best Couples?); Byron and Monique (same thing); and Charley Crow for Best Director and Best Screenplay.