All language subtitles for Video Vixens 1975

And he stated again this
afternoon that he fully

intends to run for reelection.

That wraps up the national news.

I'm Jim Walters.

KLITT's Gordon Gordon went
to the movies last night,

and here he is to
tell you all about it.

Gordon?

Thank you, Jim.

I'm a movie critic.

I get paid to go to the movies.

People envy me.

They think my job is
some sort of a picnic.

Well, it's not a
picnic, not one bit.

Last night I more than
earned every bit of the money

that KLITT pays me.

I was witness to a movie
so lewd, so filthy,

noxious, and obscene that--

Yeah?

Tell him to go screw it.

Tell him I said so.

GORDON : To performs
ordid, sexual acts

with people, and it's just
a downright abomination

and a crime against nature.

None of you will have to
see that sick, sordid--

Memo.

To chairman of the board
regarding Saturday night

ratings 8:00 to 10:00 PM last.

I am proceeding to drop programs
as previously discussed.

GORDON:
Smut, smut, smut.

We'll phase out shows
in four weeks and buying

films for prime time viewing.

Films so depraved,
so degrading,

so vile and perverted--

Have additional and regular
sponsors now willing to make.

GORDON : But they're
not only nonsensitive,

but indicative of
a social malaise

of frightening proportion.

Yeah.

That's correct.

GORDON : I call
upon the district attorney

to enforce the obscenity
laws that are--

Look.

I mean to set the
record straight.

Your contract's
not being renewed.

Your show's a loser.

It stinks.

You haven't turned in a decent
production over four years.

We both know that.

Yeah.

Well, just keep me informed
as to your procedures

in phasing out.

Just do it in style.

Right.

Have additional and regular
sponsors now willing

to make swing over to feature
films that I personally select.

Very truly yours, Clifford
Bradley, president, et cetera.

Angel, get this out right away.

Hey, Caroline.

Get this
fire, will you?

Easy on the fever
beaver, you toilet pole.

Oh, take it easy, Miss Thing.

Its seen worse days, I'm sure.

Hey, sweetheart.

Will you put a little
rouge on her nips

so we can shoot this thing?

What?

It's for you, honey.

Yeah?

Who is it?

Uh, Mr Bradley,
Or, like, Cliff?

Give me the phone.

Yeah?

ANGEL: Mr Boorski on 4-2.

Shit.

Yeah.

Yeah, this is Boorski.

Who?

Now, come on.

Speak up, buddy.

I can't hear you.

Go on?

Well, listen.

I'm real glad to hear
you like a little nookie

now and then, buddy.

But I don't see what the hell
that's got to do with you

tying up my time on the phone.

Now, look.

I'm a busy man, so you
just cut out the bullshit

and tell me what you wanna say.

Yeah, that-- that
sounds terrific.

Yeah.

It-- hey, will you get
that light off her cunt

before it goes up in flames?

Now, listen, shithook,
you're interrupting

my train of thought.

Now, I'm a no shit,
serious son of a bitch,

and I'm right in the
middle of lighting me a--

Do you know who this
is you're talking to?

You're who?

You're kidding me.

Shit.

You ain't kidding me.

I mean, you aren't, sir.

Get your fucking
knee back up there.

Oh no, sir.
No, sir.

I sure didn't mean you.

No.

Yes, sir.

Captain, you got my
undivided attention.

What?

Yes, sir.

Yes, sir.

I'll be there.

Oh.Yes, sir.

Yes, sir, of course.

We'll both be there.

Fine.

See you tomorrow.

Bye.

Won't that frost your behind.

Well, ladies and
gentleman, tonight I

have another sick
film to report on,

and I shall not
flinch from my duty.

I speak of the film "Two Balls,"
which opened today at the Pearl

Theater in Hollywood.

I cannot recall one shot
of the entire film that

did not contain a male or female
genital exposed for all to see.

That miserable,
machinating eunuch.

How does a man become like that?

How does a real man
with any kind of pride

sell his whole country
down the river like that?

The whole US of
A is losing its--

if you'll pardon the
expression, my dear-- balls.

And this little half man
rotter, this traitorous, disease

spreading, cold ass cancer.

He's part of it, the
conspiracy, of course.

They think they're being pretty
smart having one of their boys

working on my station.

They're out to get me.

I know they're out to get me.

And they know that I know
they're out to get me.

They think I'm keeping him on
so as not to let on that I know

anything about the conspiracy.

I mean, they think that
they know that's why

I'm keeping him on salary.

Gee, politics sure makes
strange bed partners.

Of course you're right, Inga.

I don't mind your assistant's
comments, Boorski.

It's refreshing to
find a young girl so

free of the taint ofa
sexuality that's assaulting

our country on all fronts.

You see, she is a girl, Boorski.

We don't have to wonder
what sex she belongs to.

She's a fine, sexy,
All-American girl.

And it's really nice
to have her here.

Right you are, Captain.

I have a plan, the ultimate
plan to save the nation,

the game plan to put the polish
back in the family jewels.

You're gonna be a
hero, a national hero.

And you're gonna
be the first lady.

You, Rex Boorski, king of
the stags, prince of porn.

Give credit where it's
due, I always say.

The genius of the genre.

Think on it, man.

Live, Saturday
night, prime time--

we'll give 'em stag films!

Do you know how high
the ratings go when

the Academy Awards are on TV?

Astronomically high!

And it's nothing but a
bunch of crap consisting

of 90 minutes of boredom
of thankless idiots

thanking each other.

We'll give 'em an award show
that'll stagger the nation.

Wake up, America.

Here we come.

We'll show 'em scenes
from the films.

This show's gotta have class.

I need someone to MC the
show, someone to give

it credibility, respectability.

And I'll need special sponsors.

Let's see.

Who am I gonna get?

Hey, Dad.

I forgot to tell you the troop
is putting that new librarian

on the smut list.

You mean the college girl?

The one with the--

She's got a fat chest.

You know, she wears
really short skirts?

Wiggles a lot.

Gordon Junior!

Sorry, Dad.

Sorry if I offended you, Mom.

It's all, Gordon Junior.

What's the troop going to
do with the new librarian

now that's she's on your
smut list and everything?

Well, it's real simple.

The troops comes down to the
library, about 450 of us,

and we run her out of town
on her fat, wiggly ass!

Good gracious.

It's almost 9:30.

Who could be coming
at this hour?

--Well, hello, sonny.

We're here to see your daddy.

It's all right, Mrs G. Mr
Clifford Bradley, he sent us.

Mr Bradley sent you?

That's what I said, Mr Gordon.

Name's Boorski, Rex Boorski.

This here little bombshell,
this here's Inga.

We're both of us connected with
Stag Film Quarterly Review.

That's a kind of periodical
that's devoted to the new ideas

and concepts within the
artistic trends relevant in stag

movie tradition.

Stag movies?

How dare you mention such a
thing in my house in front

of my wife and my young child.

Artistic trends?

Artistic trends my eye!

You name me one thing you
consider an artistic trend

and I'll buy you a stovepipe.

He means the magazine?

Artistic trends?

Lots of fuck position and
things like that with pictures.

We do a lot of that trend.

That's smut.

You're smutty.

You're going on the list!

What's with him?

I dunno, honey.

Hey, maybe he wants you to show
him some of your positions.

Oh, would you like to see
me strike a pose, sonny?

No, absolutely not.

Now, this has gone
quite far enough.

Will you get him out of here?

Now, I wanna know what
you're doing here,

what do you want me
for, and what all

this has to do with Mr Bradley.

Well, now, it's really
simple, Mr Gordon.

Mr Bradley, he's the
president of KLIT TV, right?

Well, now, you're an
employee of KLIT TV,

and Mr Bradley's just got a
job he wants you to do for him.

That's all.

You're gonna be working real
closely with myself and Inga

here, who incidentally is just
one hell of a wild ass fuck.

Oh Rex.

Oh shit.

Well, anyway, it's all
explained in this here

letter that Mr Bradley
asked me to give to you.

You see, we're going to
take TV land by surprise.

We're gonna put on the first
annual Academy Awards stag film

nice.

You're gonna be the
master of ceremonies.

You know, you'll
read off the awards

and introduce a few film
clips of the winning films

and shit like that?

We all thought you'd be
just right for the job,

give it a little respectability
and a little class.

You know what I mean?

Anyway, Mr Bradley'd like
to have you in his office

about 9:30 tomorrow morning.

Hey, honey, you got
anything to eat?

Remember how happy
we all used to be?

I mean, girls were
girls, and men were men.

Sex was in the air, in
the air, I tell you.

You could suck in the aroma of
excited love in every corner.

Now we have pollution--
pollution and faggots.

Terrific, huh?

Well, it's no accident that
the people of our country

don't have sex on
their mind anymore.

Their minds have been
dulled by the blunt edge

of the conspiracy.

The people of our country fall
sleep in front of their TV

sets, washing their hands
with hexachlorophene

and sucking in the
polluted night air

without a single
thought of erotic bliss

entering their heads.

This is no accident.

You, of course, all know this.

Your product lacked the exposure
that might grant them a greater

chance to successfully
compete on the open market

with such things as stomach
remedies and enzyme detergents.

Your products are banned
from the advance air,

banned from the dull
minds of the victimized

audiences of our day.

This is no accident.

The government
wants it that way.

They want us to be dull, and
tired, and unexcited, and soft.

They're killing sex, and
they're killing your products.

What's the pitch, bud?

I wanna sell your
products on prime time.

Why you wanna
sell our products?

Nobody else here will.

I like what you sell,
and I need the money.

All right.

Now wait a minute.

What I want to know is who
we got running the show.

Give me some big name, movie
stars-- somebody like that.

I got anything to
do with television,

I wanna know all the ratings.

All that stuff.

We get some girl, maybe
some broad to take

care of the show
instead of a guy.

A lot of people like to
watch broads like that.

Get a whole room full
of broads-- big, fat,

firm tits-- ripe.

You know, I used
to be able-- I used

to be able to remember the
names of all different kinds

of nipples there are.

We'll have the highest ratings.

It's no lie.

We're running a very show, and
it's gonna cost you plenty.

Gordon Gordon, the
movie critic, is gonna

be our master of ceremonies.

That fruit?

No, Mr Bradley, I
can't reconsider.

I mean, what you're offering,
any suggestion of my hosting

a show designed to specifically
flout governmental regulations,

particularly by letting
somewhat prurient interest gain

dominance on a prime
time slot, would,

after all is said and
done, be disastrous

to my-- my reputation.

All right, Gordon.

Cut the crap.

I'm gonna speak plainly.

I know who you are, and I
know who you're working for.

Who I'm working for, sir?

I said cut the crap.

Can the act.

Get it?

You ever hear of any conspiracy
against your own country?

A conspiracy, sir?

Don't play dumb with me.

But, sir--

You want me to tell you
what those friends of yours

in Washington are trying to
pull on our poor, defenseless

people?

There's a conspiracy afoot
in this country, a conspiracy

to uproot our balls, to tear
the edge off erotic Americana,

to reduce us all to
unisexed hippies,

and faceless faggots,
and fruitcakes.

They don't want us to yin
for no broads there, boy.

They're making lesbies
out of our women folk

and queers out of our men.

They're making us dull, boy.

You get me?

You get me, right?

You know what I mean?

I mean, you're working for them.

But Christ, you look
like an American.

Why can't you see right
and get your nose in line?

It's not too late
to be a patriot.

It's never too late.

I know they're gonna get me.

I get this show on
the air and pow!

I get hung.

But that's all right with me.

That's just fine.

Fine.

I'm perfectly willing to get
hung-- perfectly willing.

Perfectly.

Am I getting through
to you, you bastard?

You work for me, right?

I want you to run the Stag
Films Academy Awards night.

You're a big name,
and the audience

is going to stay
with you when we

announce the preempting, right?

I want someone
big, and you're it.

I don't know what the
hell you're talking about.

You bastard.

But what conspiracy?

What are you talking about?

Who's doing what and how
is it all being done?

I don't know what you mean.

Hexachlorophene.

Ahah!

Your face tells all.

They didn't know I was
on to it, did they?

Well, I've got my
sources of information

the same as anyone else.

Only mine are better
paid, and they've

always got some information
to throw my way.

Hexachlorophene?

In the soap, you bastard.

You wash your hands three times
and forget about your hard on.

Oh, they've been sneaking
it up on us for years.

The whole damn country's
just about lost

its capacity to get some ass.

Hexachlorophene is in our guts.

It's in our guts, boy!

In our guts?

Well, that-- that's
not very good then.

Don't start jerking me off
again, you little asswipe.

I can't stand your
playing cute with me.

I dunno what you're trying to
do, but it ain't gonna work.

So you may as well quit
before you get started.

What about the sponsors?

And the regulations?

The commissioner and the
chairman of the board?

I'm completely prepared to
lay down my life and my fortune

for the consequences
of this night.

What can showing stag film
clips possibly do to make

all that trouble worth while?

I'm gonna give the men
of America something

to think about besides
hexochlorophene.

I'm gonna give our
women hot pants.

I mean, boy, to give a little
stroll down memory lane

to the poor creatures
of our country

who have forgotten the pleasures
of God's greatest gift.

I'm gonna turn on the
whole damned audience.

Don't you get it, boy?

We're gonna make the
statement of the age.

We're gonna lay it on the line.

America's gonna take a
long, hard look at itself

and then hop right in
the bed with the memories

of sexual ecstasy that
their government is

trying to suppress for
their own perverse reasons.

I just-- I just can't do it.

I can't do it.

I'll be frank with you, Gordon.

You piss me off.

ANNOUNCER: Our regularly
scheduled programs will not

be shown tonight so
that we may bring

you the following special.

Ladies and gentlemen,
tonight from holiday,

KLITT presents the first
annual Stag Film Academy Awards

night with special guest
star, that king of porno,

Rex Boorski.

And our host for tonight,
that famous film critic,

that man of style,
Mr taste in culture

himself-- Gordon Gordon.

The world as we know it is
going through a vast change

of sensibilities.

In an era faced with the
bitter aftertaste of marauding

technocrats pummeling our
tender psyches, many of us

have lost the capacity to feel.

Movies have mirrored
this change.

They have become
sterile, lifeless.

They don't turn us on.

How many of us can honestly
say that we came back

from watching "The Godfather"
and felt like-- felt

like getting fucked?

Tonight-- tonight, the
KLITT viewing audience

will for the first time
be able to see clips

from a new wave of
underground films

that hope to reverse this
alarming sterile trend

in our artistic environment.

Tonight, you will be able to
see the wild, unfulfilled dreams

of America pour out
before your very eyes.

You will see, and
hear, and join with me

in applauding the
best of the award

winning stag films of our time.

But a word of warning for
those out-- for those of you

out there in the video
land, you wild ones, you who

are used to seeing the old
eight millimeter stag films,

be prepared.

Now you will see them
ball in 16 millimeter.

I'm Gordon Gordon.

I'll be right back after
this short announcement.

Look, just between
us girls, we've got

a problem sometimes with odor.

And not just any odor,
big deal crotch odor.

Let's be serious, right?

It can get pretty fucking
disgusting down there.

If it's going to be a hot
day and I've got some action

planned, I don't mess around.

I just give myself
a quick spritz right

up my favorite spot and yours.

Twinkle Twat-- great stuff.

Isn't it worth it
for the extra penny?

Twinkle Twat-- try it.

You'll like it.

I like it.

SONG: In its tender
fold and wrinkle,

make it sparkle
where you tinkle.

Love it.
Twinkle Twat.

I love it.

Twinkle Twat.

Every glistening
crack and crinkle

will be cherry blossom pink.

I love you, Twinkle Twat.

The award for the best sound
effects goes to the film cited

for its daring innovations
in the sensitive pick up

of the very quiet sound
of the human heart,

for its delicate integration
of vital noise, racket--

Gordon Junior, get to bed.

But that's Dad.

That's smut!

Turn that thing
off and get to bed.

Mother, I hate to say this,
but Dad is going on the list.

And so to announce the nominees
is none other than the queen

of stag films-- Inga.

The nominees are "The
Stroker," "The Lustful

Lover," and "Wailing Whiplash."

May I have the envelope, please?

And the winner is "Wailing
Whiplash: A Saga of Milk."

All the recipients
of the awards tonight

will receive a statue of a human
foot encased in a black anklet

sock in recognition
for the contributions

to the advancement of
the stag film genre.

Here's a clip from the film.

How many bottles?

Two.

That's not good enough!

You're hurting me.

You alone in the house?

Why are you doing this to me?

Please stop.

Please stop.

I can't fight you.

Please stop.

You're hurting me so.

What do you want from me?

What do you want?

I'll give you anything you want?

This is what I want.

This is what I want!

Oh no.

Don't beat me with that.

Please, not with that.

Not the strap.

Whore.

It's Melvin, my husband.

What's for lunch, baby?

Tuna salad, darling.

That's not good enough!

I'm sorry, darling, butt
una salad is all we have.

I hope you won't be mad at me.

I hope you won't be angry.

Shut up, baby.

You have just seen
a clip from "Wailing

Whiplash: a Saga of Milk."

I don't suppose I have
to urge any of you

horny fuckheads out
there to hang on

till after this
brief announcement.

ANNOUNCER: Irving Hamstrung is
a sewer worker from Elmhurst.

Queens.

He has rough hands from
pulling up manhole covers

and sifting through all
sorts of shit all day long.

Isn't that right, Irving?

This is Milton Schwartz
of Coney Island.

He's the chief
maintenance engineer

in the saliva and cigar butt
division of the New York City

subway cleanup control unit.

His hands are wet,
and rough, and clammy.

And they smell bad too.

Isn't that right, Milton?

This is Salvatore
Russo of flushing.

He's an undercover agent for
the New York Police Department.

He spends his day dressed as
a derelict in different men's

rooms in Grand Central Station.

His hands are rough and
calloused from standing

on his hands on top of toilet
bowls for hours at a time.

The other derelicts
trust him because this

proves him to be a regular guy.

Your hands must be pretty
icky, right, Salvatore?

This is Sancho Wienerhauser.

He's an independent
frankfurter salesman.

He handles his wares all
day under an umbrella

in Times Square.

His hands are god awful.

Isn't that right, Sancho?

Sancho?

We have asked these men here
today for a special reason.

As you've seen, they
are professionals

with hard, unpleasant hands.

OK, men.

Go ahead.

OK, men.

You can take off the blindfolds.

Well, professionals,
which did you find softer?

The diaper or the girl?

The girl.

The girl.

The girl.

The girl.

ANNOUNCER: Thank you, men.

Well, you've just seen for
men with hard, tough, stinking

hands prefer blindfolded
the soft skin of a girl

to the softness of diapers.

Wouldn't you rather have
a real girl than a diaper?

Don't be a little
jerkoff in diapers.

Call Dial-A-Snatch.

SONG: Dial-A-Snatch--
you won't be lonely

if you'll only dial a snatch!

Softer than diapers,
whores on television.

I'm losing my mind.

I must be losing my mind.

Our next award will be
given in the category

of best documentary.

May I have the envelope, please?

Although the film we have
chosen to honor this year

does not fit into any
ordinary conception

of the documentary
art form, we feel

that its usage of real people
in a real life situation

justifies our
granting of the award.

I take great
pleasure in awarding

this year's prize for
the best documentary

to "The Shrink Who Loved Me."

MAN: Your hand, what are
you doing with your hand?

Nothing.

I mean, nothing.

Just looking at my watch.

Look at the watch.

Yes.

Now, you say looking
at your watch,

but in reality, which after
all is my stock and trade,

in reality you were
tugging and pulling

at your portable timepiece.

But, Doctor, I don't--

Now, please, don't interrupt.

I'll lose my train of thought.

I-- I-- I always lose
my train of thought,

and it's a terrific strain.

I mean, it's at
errific strain dealing

with lunatics all the time.

I mean, present company
excepted, of course.

Of course.

But Doctor, I cannot even sleep.

The pain is so unbearable
for me at night.

We can deal with all this.

It's very common.

You have all the
ordinary symptoms.

But that has nothing to do
with what's wrong with me.

Now, now, now, now,
now, now, now, now.

How can you expect me to
help you at all if you start

contradicting me and
taking away the trust

that you must have in me?

You know the doctor
patient relationship

must remain strong and intact.

You see, clocks
have been assigned

a very definite function in
psychoanalytic diagnosis.

Clocks?

Yes, clocks.

Clocks are a symbol
of female genitalia.

Now, your tugging and pulling
at the symbol of your,

shall we say, femininity
is symptomatic

of several proclivitie
son your part

which you are
trying desperately,

I might add, to suppress.

Well, what have I got?

Well, that depends.

Are you a virgin?

Oh, Doctor, don't be silly.

Yes, now, do you have
clocks in your bedroom?

Yes, doctor, I'm afraid I do.

Windup or electric?

Windup with an alarm pullout.

Windup, pullout.

Your-- your port
abletimepiece, your wrist

watch, that has no pullout.

So you must tug on it instead.

My dear, I'm afraid
you're a nymphomaniac.

A what?

Now, that's just
the kind of crap I'd

expect to hear from my mother.

I mean, one time, just
one time with Johnny

and immediately I'm a whore, a
two bit, cheap, little whore.

No, no, no, no, no.

Quite the contrary.

You see, nothing could be
further from the truth.

You see, you have
been brought up

to believe that
sexual intercourse

is a cardinal sin, right?

And that whatever
the consequences,

you must always repress
your sexual desire.

My use of the term
nymphomaniac is--

was really to elicit are
action of guilt and shame.

Oh.

Clever.
-Well, thank you.

Now, that reaction was
symptomatic of an unhealthy,

unnatural repression.

Move over.

Move over?

Hey, what is this?

Goddamn it, young lady.

That-- you mustn't let your
silly little repressions

get in the way of your therapy.

I mean, I'm explaining
to you that your--

your-- your neurotic fits are
merely symptoms an underlying

repression of sexual desire that
has been unhealthily drummed

into you ever since your birth.

And the only way
to get around this

is to-- to-- crush it, to-- to--
to tear it up from its roots.

And that's a fact that
must be dealt with at once.

Doctor, what do
you want me to do?

Oh, just draw back
those repressions.

You desire me.

You desire me.

You desire me.

Oh, Miss Alice.

SONG: If you're running
'round in circles

like ze hands of a clock,
always looking at your watch,

und hearing tick-tock.

Ja, ja.

Und the tick to you means prick
und the tock to you means cock.

And every little
tick-tock is prick-cock.

Ja, ja.

Then tick-tock, tick-tock
is prick-cock, prick-cock.

Und tock-tick is cock-prick.

So psychologically you're sick.

Ticky-ticky, tock-tock,
ticky ticky tock,

pricky-pricky, cock-cock,
pricky pricky cock.

Tocka tocka tick-tick,
Cocka cocka prick.

Cocka cocka, pricka
pricka, cocka cocka prick!

Rightly speaking,
here's my diagonosis.

You've got a genuine
17 jewel neurosis.

You're full of
Bolivar psychosis.

So use this therapy
in very large doses.

Go out with men, Liebchen.

For you're no cuckoo
clock in your mind.

Grab a big man, Liebchen.

Pop your little
spring und unwind.

When you think
you're fully dressed,

but you're mitout a stitch,
then you feel you got a scratch

but cannot find the itch.

You've got
but can't remember which,

go out with men, Liebchen.

If you have to blow your nose,
but your nostrils are in shock

'cause your sinuses are stuff
edup with a mental block-- ja,

ja-- und mama to you means pop,
und papa to you means cock,

und put them all together,
you've got poppycock.

Ja, ja.

Then tick-tock, tick-tock.

If mommy pop is
poppycock, hocky puck,

hockey sock is hockey
stick a cocky prick?

Ticky-ticky tock-tock,
ticky-ticky tock,

hockey pockey, hockey
sockey, pockey hockey stick,

pocka-pocka tick-tick,
pocka-pocka tick,

hockey sticky, cocka
dicky, suck a hockey prick.

Mein Liebchen.

Dippy doo in your thing.

They'll cure what
ails, Liebchen.

Don't drive your
little pussy insane.

If you think you're
eating caviar,

but all it is is cheese,
if you're sadomasochistic

but relaxed while ill at ease,
if you're dancing the Flamenco

while you're playing
on your knees,

go out with men, Liebchen!

For those of you
who just tuned in,

you were just seeing a clip
from the award winning stag film

"The Shrink Who Loved Me."

And now a message that I'm
sure will be of interest

to all our female viewers.

MOTHER: Something wrong?

Oh, Mother, football season's
over, and so is training.

Killer wants me to go
out with him tonight,

but what's he gonna
do when he finds

out that I'm not a true blonde?

Stop feeling sorry for
yourself and get smart.

Whenever I got asked out
on a moment's notice,

I used Minute Merkin.

Yes, Minute Merkin,
a pelvic wig.

It's not just any rug made out
of synthetics or horse hair.

Minute Merkin is hand woven
from genuine human pubic hairs.

I have the rainbow assortment.

You try the Swedish blonde.

But he'll be here
in 10 minutes.

Relax.

It only takes a minute.

Do you think it'll fool Killer?

It certainly
fooled your father.

SONG: If you're a gal who's
on the go and a gal who's

in the know, well, nothing
would be finer than a wig

for your vagina.

Your friends may think
you're very weird that you

wear a pelvic beard.

But men will pay a price to lay
a gal with such a nice toupee.

Minute Merkin!

ANNOUNCER: Later that evening.

I'm sorry, Anita.

I guess I got kind of carried
away, but it was beautiful.

-Did he find out?
-No.

-What happened?
-He loved it.

Really?

The whole thing.

ANNOUNCER: Minute Merkin--
for the gal on the go.

He'll never know the difference.

SONG: Minute Merkin.

Minute Merkin!

Our next award will be given in
the category of best director.

As many of you have
already been able to guess,

the award this year goes to that
venerable stalwart of the stag

reels for his latest
film "Stag Film

Director: the Great Deceiver."

Mr Boorski not only
directed this award winner

but also wrote the screenplay
and starred in the production.

Rex Boorski,
creative artist, man

of many professional
guises, feels very

strongly about his latest film.

And we get at KLITT asked him
if he would himself introduce

a clip from this film.

Well, ladies and gentlemen,
I take great pleasure

in presenting you
with Rex Boorski.

I'll bet your fans are
getting a real rise out

of tonight's show.

Ain't he doing a
good job, folks?

My name's Rex Boorski.

I'm a creator.

You-- you see what I do
is I make things come

to last, things like
situations, and characters,

and dead marriages, and for
that matter, dead dames.

Now, you see the point is that
life is art and all that shit?

Now, that ain't not crap.

I mean, it's kind of like-- you
know when-- well, when you're

gonna go take off your
clothes when you're in a film,

I mean, what's all
the fuss about?

I mean, life is beautiful.

Flesh is beautiful.

Well, why don't
we do these films

without showing a lot of flesh?

Well, I'll tell you why.

I'll tell you why, baby.

It's because you don't fuck
when you got your drawers on.

That's why.

I do wanna thank you.

Thank you, Mr Boorski, but
I'm afraid that's all the time

we can let you have.

And now, ladies and gentlemen,
we all take great pleasure

in presenting you with a clip
from the latest Rex Boorski,

"Stag Film Director."

Now look, Virginia, the
point is that I'm an artist,

and I'm interested in
just primarily one thing.

Yes, Mr Boorski, and
I appreciate that.

Now, honey, I don't think you'd
have a lot of respect for me

if I was to go and compromise
my artistic vision.

Now, you see, hun,
I'm a director.

And a director's got to feel
the way each one of these scenes

are put together.

You dig that?

Well now, honey, I'm a guy
that feels awful deeply.

Well now, if I was
to make compromises

or concessions with my feelings,
now, I'd be lying to myself.

I don't think I could live with
myself if I did that, Virginia.

Well, that's very
true, Mr Boorski, but--

Now, you just
call me Rex, honey.

We're very informal around here.

Well, all right, Rex.

The thing is, Rex, I really
appreciate you being very

true to yourself and all that.

But the fact is
that I don't really

see why you being
true to yourself

has got to have me, well,
completely naked and simulating

a disgusting, love
making scene.

Well, honey, for one thing,
I's director of this film.

Now, I gotta have a firm
concept of how the characters

is supposed to be portrayed.

Now, I happen to see your
character portrayed as naked,

you know, and making love.

Well, honey, it's gonna
be simulated love.

We ain't really gonna--
how am I gonna put this--

fuck right here on the set.

'Course it's gonna look like
that a lot on the screen.

But I don't see what
that's got to do with art.

Well now, I suppose
that's 'cause you've

never been fucked by an artist.

Now look, Virginia, you want a
part in the movie, don't you?

Now, you're a
great looking girl.

You got nothing to be
ashamed about if'n you

take off your clothes.

I mean, I don't understand
how come you don't know all

these things if you were
drawn into our profession

in the first place.

I mean, we deal in truth,
honey, the honest to God,

grassroots, naked truth!

Look, Mr Boorski, I've had
acting experience before,

things that had real
life and truth in it.

And well, I didn't have
to take off my clothes

for that kind of thing.

You were doing a goddamn
refrigerator commercial.

That's your real
life true experience.

So, honey, you don't bullshit
me about life and art, OK?

'Cause I'll tell you something.

I'm an artist too, and we happen
to be talking about a movie

that I wrote, and
I'm gonna direct,

and I happen to think
is pretty goddamn good.

And it deals about some
of the functions of life.

And one of them functions,
in case you hadn't noticed,

is getting laid.

Now, Virginia, I ain't gonna
mince no more words with you.

I really did.

I wanted you to be in my movie.

I-- I thought you'd put your
whole heart, your whole soul

into it, but if you're gonna
have a spiritual conflict

with your director before
we even start shooting,

you just forget the
whole goddamn thing.

Oh no.

No, Mr Boorski--
Mr Rex-- uh, Rex.

I'm just a little confused.

Oh no.

I don't want you to think
that I've got any kind

of spiritual contact with you.

Oh no.

Not that.

In fact, I'm beginning
to think that you're

right-- right completely!

I mean, I never
could understand how

somebody could feel so strongly
about what somebody else--

I mean, like my
mother for example.

I mean, she would
just about go bananas

if she knew that I was
getting my tits sucked

on top of my clothing,
and plus wearing a bra?

I mean, she would go crazy
and think that I was a whore.

But oh you, you've opened up a
whole new understanding for me.

Oh, really you have.

And I really want that part.

Oh, I really, really do.

And I really want the chance to
be able to work with a-- well,

a first class director.

Oh, I hope you can
understand why--

why I've seemed so reluctant.

I mean, in fact, I'm not
sure I still understand

this whole simulating
thing for one thing,

but for another thing, I hope
that the actor you've selected

will be suited for me.

Oh, I didn't mean to offend you.

I'm sure that the
actor you've selected

will be artistically
suited for me.

It's just that I'm so
curious to know because it'll

be such an intimate.

Honey, honey, I know
what you're talking about.

I understand.

You wanna know who you're
gonna do this love scene with,

this simulated love scene.

Right?-Oh yeah.

Sure.

That's it.

I'm just curious to
know what he's like.

He looks an awful lot like me.

Now look, Virginia, it's about
time you got it together, baby.

I mean, this ain't not
goddamn high school play.

This is big time, honey.

Gonna be a lot of
important people seeing you

up there on that silver screen.

You gonna be a goddamn star.

You just do what I tell you and
relax, and unwind, and emote.

You know what I mean?

I'll tell you what we gotta do.

See that camera right there?

We gotta make that
camera believe that we

just love what we're doing.

And what we're doing
is just a little

simple, simulated love making.

Now, fortunately,
you're gonna be

in the hands of an actor
just real experienced

in the art of making love.

Namely me.

But I don't think I know
what we're gonna be doing.

I mean, I really don't
think I understand what

Jesus Christ, honey,
would you get it together?

Now, goddamn it.

I wrote the goddamn scene.

I'm directing it.

I'm also acting in it.

Now, you read it.

You know what it's all about.

Now, you just relax honey.

Just take it easy.

Well, Jesus Christ.

The last thing we need is this.

We don't need no
dogs in the scene.

We're shooting pussy.

That's a joke.

All right.

Now you just take it easy.

Now lean back.

That's right.

Goddamn it.

Let's get rid of
these goddamn pillows.

There we go.

Spread that leg over there.

Spread your shoulders.

Get your hair out of the way.

Honey, there ain't nothing
to be worried about.

We're just shooting a movie.

You're gonna bet he start.

You ready to go to Hollywood,
all them parties, sign all them

autographs, all them debuts?

Here.

Got-- get a good
fix on that tit.

There you go.

Make sure we ready
the other one.

All righty, honey.

It's OK.

Everything's gonna
be all right, huh?

Just relax.

Everything's fine.

All right.

Good.

Yeah, you're doing good.

Pull that fucking camera!

Yeah, that was good.

Well, you just been
balled by an artist.

How does it feel?

Well, shit on you!

Now I know why I'm the only
one who's gotta simulate.

That was Rex Boorski's "Stag
Film Director," a very true

to life performance.

We'll be right back.

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inhibit your sex life?

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and other rectal inhibitions.

Remember, a moment's pain
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SONG: Don't suffer with pain.

Take the Rhoid Away.

Right away get Rhoid Away!

What you've just seen was
a commercial announcement

paid for by advertisers
not in any way

connected with this station.

The next award will be given
in the category best dialogue.

For its tattles and prattles
and chitchat and babbles,

its delicate delicatedis
courses, powerhouse powwows,

for its parlays of genius
and so subtle confabulations

never ending in muddles, for it
stete-a-tete discussions which

hindered eruptions,
the nominees are

"Wishbone Wonderlust," "Thanking
Thighs," and "Beach Ball."

May I have the envelope, please?

And the winner is "Beach Ball!"

Hello there, you
little cocksucker.

If I were you, sir, I'd keep
a civil tongue in my head.

My tongue is--

Control room.

Hello.

Who's in charge there?

Oh, hello, Mr Chairman.

Cliff?

Cliffy, is that you?

I tried to reach you at home.

What-- what the hell is going
on at our television station

tonight?

Do you have any idea what--

Oh, you're talking about
the stag film awards show.

Hell, everything's
under control.

It's my baby!

I thought the whole
thing up myself.

I got you guys.

I mean, let's face it
there, Mr Chairman.

The show is on, and there's
not a power on Earth

that's gonna stop it now.

What-- what are
you talking about?

Tell me this is all a bad dream.

Tell me, Cliff.

All these years when you were
number one in the business

we never had problems.

But what are you talking about?

Do you know what they're doing
out there in prime time TV?

Do you know what's going
on in this country?

Do you?

Do you?

Look, Mr Chairman,
no more games.

We all know that
you're part and parcel

of the antisexual
conspiracy poisoning

this great country of ours.

Let's lay our
cards on the table.

You sexless people on one side,
myself and a few other patriots

loyal to the joys
and responsibilities

of sexual freedom in
America on the other.

Oh my god.

He's gone nuts.

This whole show is
a coup for our side.

Of course, I'm prepared
to face the consequences.

Fire me.

Why?

Why?

Why did you do it, you crazy,
motherfucking son of a bitch?

What did I do to deserve this?

I'm fired, right?

Just say the words, Mr Chairman.

Oh.

Oh, sure, Cliff.

Sure, you're fired.

Oh yes, you're fired.

You're fired.

MAN: You're wicked loose,
you horny little mama.

Think I'm gonna give you
the fall of your life.

Yes, I am.

GIRL: Yeah, fuck me.

Fuck me.

I wanna drool.
I wanna--

Camera two, move in.

Why?

We'll return after a
word from our sponsor.

ANNOUNCER: March 15, 1893, on
a sudden daring impulse, Pamela

Flanders and Clarissa
Richardson let

their fancies take wing and
actually gave each other

a little peck on the mouth.

Just then, Mr Richardson,
husband to Clarissa,

surprised the pair.

For the crime of
kissing her friend,

Mr Richardson sentenced his
wife to a week's confinement

in the wine cellar.

Well, you've come
a long way, ladies.

SONG: Men, we've come
a long, long way.

You are out of style.

Thank you, Kentucky Dildo.

All us women have grown up.

You're still juvenile.

Thank you, Kentucky Dildo.

In sex you gave a bit
whether not.

You flew right by our clitoris
and left us feeling hot.

Well, you're just a
piece of shit to us.

Go piss in a pot.

Thank you, Kentucky Dildo.

Men, who needs you?

We've come a long, long way.

Men are out of style.

Thank you, Kentucky Dildo.

Thank you, Kentucky Dildo.

Thank you, Kentucky Dildo.

ANNOUNCER: Kentucky Dildos--
because you've come a long way.

Our next award will be given
in the category of best music.

As all of you stagfilm a
ficionados know,

stag film producers use
cheap, raunchy library music.

The ears of our judges
have been assaulted

daily by the raucous
dissonance of score

after score of such music.

However, there was one score
that stood a cut above the rest

in originality and execution.

Inga, will you announce
the winner, please?

The winner is-- pardon.

The winner is-- the winner is a
fellow nominee for this award,

"Gagnon, The Vice Cop."

And now a clip from that film.

MAN : Los
Angeles is a city

festering with every
known vice and perversion.

There are laws to prevent this.

I enforce 'em.

I'm a cop.

On August 17th, 10:30AM,
my partner Bernie

picked up a call.

A girl was raped and
assaulted in her apartment.

We're on our way.

I thought he was
selling vacuum cleaners.

He told me he had
an enormous hose.

So you let him in?

That's right.

What happened?

Well, when I let him in, I
asked to see his enormous hose.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Well, that's when he did it.

Did what?

Raped me, of course!

Do you mind covering
your tit, ma'am?

Oh, sure.

Joe, it just came
in, another rape.

Something about a man
having a large hose.

Same person?

I don't see how.

The rape occurred
exactly 10:30 AM

in Beverly Hills, the same
time this girl was raped.

Let's go, er-- oh shit.

Let's go, Bernie.

Oh, there is one thing him.

Ma'am.

He had a hose this big.

I had the precinct go through
the files of known rapists

with long hoses.

They thought I was joking.

Yeah?

So I told 'em.

Told 'em what?

That I don't fuck around.

She was a pretty girl about
20, stacked, friendly.

Wherever the rapist was, he was
picking his prey with taste.

We noted it down.

Well?

He told me had a big, long hose.

So naturally I let him in.

Why?

WOMAN:
Sure, I let him in.

All of a sudden he opens
his coat and flashes me.

Like wow.

He had one hell of a
hose, let me tell you.

So he rapes me.

Anything else can tell us about
the man besides his long hose?

What else is there?

Joe, I got an
APB on the rapist.

Yeah?

They're twins.

Joe, what's an APB?

I don't know.

August 18th, midnight.

We found the turnip
twins in one of Los

Angeles sleaziest hotels.

They were twins, identical.

There were unarmed, so to speak.

I dunno, Sergeant.

I sort of thought we can get
all the pussy we wanted if we

just synchronized our clocks.

Your what?

Clocks?

Like, who would believe it?

Girls getting simultaneously
raped by the biggest cock

in Hollywood?

I thought it up.

Why'd you do it?

I thought it was a
good idea at the time.

The girls thought so too.

Are you a loser who can't
even make it to first base

with a girl?

Do you lose your confidence
every time you get up to bat?

Why strike out?

Use Umpire, the male deodorant.

Use Umpire every morning.

You'll hit a home
run every time.

Umpire, the new male
deodorant for foul balls.

Play ball!

Please stay tuned.

We'll return after a
word from our sponsor.

Girls, Passion
cologne and bath oil

brings out the beast in men.

We're going to
spray Claudine with

a provocative and
expensive perfume,

while Adriana will use Passion.

We've left convicted
rapist Luther Grady alone

in the dungeon
with the two girls.

Let's watch what happens.

And there you have it
live and unrehearsed.

Another convicted
rapist prefers the girl

wearing passion to the
more attractive girl

wearing the expensive perfume.

And now back to the live action.

ANNOUNCER: Passion
Colon and Bath Oil,

it brings out the beast in men.

I just wanna say that the
commercial you have just seen

was out of my control.

I will not stand for this.

I will not stand for
this one second longer.

I have my BA in movie criticism.

Yes, sir.

And I will not stand idly
by while the men and women

of America get sucked into
the foul pestilence

of corruption and decadence.

A travesty, I say at
ravesty and an abomination.

You have seen films
tonight that were

rooted-- rooted-- in sickness.

I don't care whether
or not I lose my job

or whether-- what
anyone thinks about me,

but I just have to say what
I feel or I'll do something

that I'll be sorry for later.

I don't know what-- who's
been taping these commercials,

but whoever-- whoever has been,
well, they oughtta be arrested.

They oughtta be put
away in dog kennels.

That stupid,
traitorous bastard.

I get him to behave
for the whole show,

and then he ups and gets me
in trouble with the sponsor.

It's such a fine,
uncontaminated product.

There's not a bit of
hexachlorophene in it.

I'll tell the world.

No hexachlorophene,
that it works wonders.

Taxi!

You in a hurry?

Yes, I am.

I'm in a hurry.

Not in that much of a hurry.

Listen.

I know how it goes.

You know, you-- you
have a long hard day,

and then you come home to
the same old wife each night?

It gets boring.

Let me tell you.

You could use a nice
little piece of class ass

if you know what I mean.

You know, I got this--
I got this phone

number of this chick, see?

And she's absolutely dynamite.

Got a 42 inch bust.

Would you believe it?

Hey, and she-- she wears her
boots to bed, just like you're

in a goddamn stag film, huh?

Hey, what do you say?

Hey, what is it with you anyway?

Just take me home,
filthy degenerate.

Sex, sex-- this is the most
disgusting, filthy city

in the world.

Tell me again.

Oh that's gorgeous.

What beautiful goddamn ratings.

This is history.

Yes, John?

Oh, well, thanks a lot.

Yes, it was mostly my
idea Although Cliff did

have a little something
to do with it.

Oh, he happen to be
a fairly hip guy.

Oh, Gordon.

Poor Gordon.

You look terrible.

Just awful.

Poor dear.

I saw the whole
thing on television.

Hello.

Yes.

Yes, Mr Chairman.

I can explain everything.

Forge the explanations.

Gordon, there were
over 100 million people

watching the awards last
night-- half of America.

100 million viewers?

That's right.

You're a hot item.

Me?

Anchorman?

Well, what about my reviews?

Oh, we'll get some
candy ass for that spot.

You come in in the morning
to sign the contract.

Good night.

Oh, Gordon, congratulations.

Well, thank you Mr Chairman.

I'll-- I'll pop in for lunch.

You, I saw you!

Don't deny it.

You're smutty, smutty, smutty,
and you're on the list.

You're a disgrace
to our entire family

and-- and our standing
in the neighborhood.

This lists you as an admitted
member of the smut list.

Sign and I'll be easier
on you in the long run.

Get outta here,
you little fart.

You're still smutty,
smutty, smutty!

Come here.

Great god almighty.

I'm gonna fuck your brains out.

Yeah, he's back, and we
can forget about any kind

of action for tonight.

In two seconds, they're
gonna be in their room

with the door locked.

What do you think, dummy?

Fucking.

Mr Boorski, Mr Boorski!

How are you?

Mr Boorski?

Good morning,
ladies and gentleman.

You know, last night
I had a whole shitpot

full of requests to hold
a press conference here.

Well, here I am.

You.

The one with the swollen
tits sticking out there.

You have violated federal
law, state law, city

and local ordinances, and
every regulation promulgated

by the Federal
Communications Commission

not to mention
general principles

of decency and morality.

Have you given any thought at
all to the legal consequences

of your actions?

Honey, right now
I'm just thinking

about them swollen tits
you got sticking out there.

Mr Boorski, in your
considered opinion,

how would you evaluate the
impact that last night's

special had on America?

Well, what do you think?

They was message
films or something?

Say, you ain't one of the
mignorant fucking movie critics

that's always trying to look
for something that ain't there,

are you?

Now look, buddy, I'll tell you.

All I know is there's a
whole shitload of Maytags

out there working overtime
to clean the stains off

of last night's sheets.

Mr Boorski!

Mr Boorski!

Mr Boorski, I'd like to address
this question to Miss Inga.

Well, you go
right ahead, honey.

Miss Inga, I think it would
be of enormous interest

to our readers to
learn whether you enjoy

a social relationship as well
as a business relationship

with Mr Boorski.

Enjoy it?

Of course I enjoy it, silly.

REX BOORSKI: Go ahead, granny.

You just fire away.

Never in my life have I
heard of such perverted acts.

You spoke about inspiration
at your conference last night,

the special?

Where could you
possibly have gotten

the inspiration for such coarse,
crude, crass, and above all,

boring movies.

Well, ma'am, I
reckon I can field

that question pretty easily.

If I can just figure
out how to put it.

Inspiration, you see, is a very
delicate and subtile thing.

It comes in a lot of different
colors, and sizes, and shapes.

Now, you take you for example.

I'll bet my
granddaddy's jock strap

you ain't had no inspiration
or no penetration

for that matter in a dog's age.

Mr Boorski, why do you
find it so necessary

to use vulgar words
when English words would

express your true
feelings much clearer?

Well, ma'am, I'll tell you.

I don't swear just to
be shitty about it.

It's just that I feel
the English language is

such a poor means
of communication

we gotta use ever fucking
word everybody understands.

Boorski!

Boorski!

You.

In this changing world, do you
anticipate the establishment

of gorilla type sex orgies?

Well, I'll tell you, honey,
I don't mind fucking a monkey,

but I hate to have someone
monkeying with my fucking.

Is it true, Mr Boorski,
that your penis has been

insured by Lloyd's of London?

Shit, that's the silliest
question I ever heard.

It's apparent to everybody
that a brilliant man

masterminded the
production and transmission

of last night's awards.

It is now common knowledge that
Clifford Bradley is this man.

However, we have been
unsuccessful in our attempts

to locate him.

Could you, Mr Boorski,
as his close associate

give us a clue as
to his whereabouts?

Who will inspire
the troops to victory

if I am captured by the enemy?

No one.

No one else.

I and I alone must remain free.

CLIFFORD BRADLEY:
We have established

the first beachhead.

We have taken the
enemy by surprise.

Retaliatory strikes
are imminent,

and their consequences will
have grave implications

for all concerned.

I foresee traitor
sin the ranks lusting

after the spoils of war.

However, they have been
offset by the enlistment

of new patriots.

Soon, our ranks
will be overflowing

with Americans prepared to
make the ultimate sacrifice.

For me, there is a higher
duty than martyrdom.

We have made great strides,
but there are still

strategic points to be taken
before the final assault is

launched.