If much of Joey Silvera's best work, to borrow a Jim Hollidayism, operates "out there where the buses don't run on more," then Kink Police Chronicles locates itself several light years beyond those untenable reaches of the Trailways universe.

No other way to put it, this is one dark tale of extraordinary madness where free-wheeling association and scatlogically obsessed world view (toilet humor, for those without dictionaries) share a wing in a building dedicated to sexual pandemonium.

Patterned slavishly to nearly every reality show ever to wind up on the Fox TV network, the pitch-black Kink Police Chronicles monitors a crime-in progress (a homicide, we're to learn). Beyond this, it deftly hedges its bets when it comes to sane plotting and characterization.

The first cop on the scene (David Davidson) fellates himself with the aid of a vacu-punp, then a flying human head, doing an impersonation of a cabbage falling out of a truck, lands smack in a parking lot. Hand gloves replace pucks in a hockey game-in-progress at the precinct house, and the investigating officer (Jamie Gillis) has a he-she for a fiancée. From there it's safe to say things get fairly weird. And did I mention the grunt-and-groan crapping contest?

Like an end-of-the-month sale at a psychiatrist's office, anything resembling mentally irregular cargo invariably winds up on the screen looking for storage space. During cop Randy West's discourse on junk food, a naked girl (Channone) is lifted bodily out of a convenience store food bin as though she were a box of Birdseye. A wonderfully articulated standing rear anal entry and Jimmy Moon's turbaned clerk grotesqueries nails this scene as a nominee, not in the outrageous, but in the outré sex scene category.

Blonde Patricia Deveraux performs an interrogation room striptease for cop T.T. Boy before the scene escalates into a raucous colloquy of manhandling, vagina-grabbing and ass poking.

Under ordinary circumstances, the reverse cowgirl position is assigned toss-in sequence status; here, it's a spiritually slow and reconstituting execution of pole hopping. A tight anal entry bolstered by pinpointed camera action lends new meaning to the worlds, "Book 'em, Dan-o."

T.T.'s questioning of a drug impresario (Rosebud's own Mike Rubinstein) lays ground work for an outdoor bikini tease session with a four-way that ushers in Manaja, Julie Rage and Obsession with Manaja's quivering sphincter soliciting T.T.'s cock like the hand of Ahab beckoning mystically in Moby Dick.

Just as literally, rose bushes and couches take the place of cabbages and kings in a scene Lewis Carroll would appreciate when Jamie Gillis, sounding like George the puppet at the AVN awards show, humiliates he-she Leah with a raging torrent of "suck my fuckin' dick" commands.

Role reversal in the nicest sense describes a moment when police officer Missy kisses Nick East's ass as a prelude to Missy taking his dick up hers, singularly by East, then in D.P. fashion when Steve Hatcher joins the party.

Inevitable comparisons will be made to John Leslie's seminal Fresh Meat, and Kink Police Chronicles certainly packs all the loopiness of the "Fashion Sluts" series and Silvera's two previous "Kink" features.

If you haven't created an "exuberantly absurdist" video section in your store, the emergence of Joey Silvera as a creative force almost dictates.