Jim Holliday won't bullshit you—his narration immediately discloses that this tease-free wall-to-waller is Holliday-inspired, not Holliday-directed. But the boxcover doesn't say shit except Jim Holliday's Heetseekers, so lose half a star for false advertising. There's only one anal, the Carrington-Davis opener. Two scenes, pairing the incandescent Missy with Michael J. Cox, and a pre-op Jill Kelly with Eric Price, rise above routine. Workmanlike, satisfying, but not worthy of the Holliday name.