There comes a point where the mind stops processing media overload and simply shuts down. This was the case somewhere in the middle of a three-way with Debi Diamond, Danyel Cheeks and Sindee Cox. The usual gaggle of oversized toys, rubber gloves and body oil had been let loose and the girls were going for the big finish as if it were a million dollar purse at the Daytona 500. Despite the authentic groaning, flapping tongues, and a rectal dissa-pearing act that would make Houdini weep, I found myself daydreaming about Bruce Seven's carpet cleaning bills. (There's only so much a shag carpet can take.)

The point is, there's nothing wrong with this material,- not by a long shot. In fact, the average viewer who pops a Buttslammers in his VCR for the first time might even consider calling 911 first and putting them on standby. But to the inured critic, this hat is older than a Jurrasic chapeau. "C'mon, Bruce," stirred my inner voice. "Shock me. I dare you."

Bruce heard the call. By the end of the scene, Debi and Sindy are dragged by dog collars and stuffed into an undersized wire cage, where Danyel covers them in oil. What goes transpires next is akin to one of those documentaries with the Rhesus monkeys who've had the pleasure center oftheir brains short-circuited. I think somebody came about 20 times but it was hard to tell with all the flailing limbs.

Ivy English, who's got one of those impervious Russ Meyer-esque physiques, stops by looking for Bruce. But when masked figure (later revealed to be Sky Blue) clad in black leather and jingling motorcycle chains comes rushing out of the bushes to attack her, Ivy's pushed, slapped, and shoved into the house where the intruder roughly rips off Ivy's bodice and forces her to lick her boots. Suddenly this vid's become Buttslammers: The Fetish Edition. Mr. Average Viewer is definitely going to place that emergency call when Skye breaks out a power drill topped with a black dildo. You thought Marathon Man was scary? Is it safe?

Actually it is safe — too safe. Seven deliberately cuts to black when the spinning drilldo is about to penetrate Ivy's goods. This tactic may have saved a few faint hearts but what a traumatic letdown for all that initial buildup! Bruce might as well take out a .25 and shoot himself in the foot for this calamitous editorial choice.