Eddie Deezen, the supreme pontiff of nerds, plays a nerd screenwriter who along with his buddies, is trying to sell a poignant love story to agent Jay Richardson. Richardson's a glib, Hollywood smoothie, so that's like selling Jerry's Kids to W.C. Fields. In other words, don't bank on Deezen's chances. So while the guys are waiting for magic to happen, and the fabled California babes to strut through the door, they answer a phone ad in one of those street corner sex tabloids. So happens it takes them to a fateful address in Beverly Hills where the tenants are bloodsucking (literally) Frederick's Of Hollywood-types. Give you three good clues what happens from here on.
A couple of cute sight gags, some tease, some nudity, but for the most part, cliched-to-death, has-been vampire humor. And Britt Ekland is but a come-on name, totally wasted in this effort. Lacks the high camp of Olen Ray's other quirky efforts, notably, Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers and the just lately released Phantom Empire and Warlords.