The opening credit typos do a fine job of foreshadowing the thrown -- together nature of this lamentable effort. Randy West and Blaze give forth with a decent hump, and Wendy Whoppers is still fascinating to watch as she lies on her back, those massive chest ornaments moving with a hypnotizing rhythm tied only tenuously to the stroking of the dick in her pussy. None of this, though, makes up for the fact that much of the tape is recycled. Retailers: don't mistake this one for a new feature.