The usual suspect Silver Foxxxes, the usual stilted improv-dialogue setup, the usual mercifully-dimmed lighting, and the usual reliance on the fading appeal of Carol Troy, Scarlet's ability to take four finger up her well-worn ass, and the odd younger ringer (Nicole London and hubby here) to provide any spark of sexual interest, beyond the specific narrow appeal to older-women fans. Ben Franklin told us to marry (and idly fuck) older girls, because they try harder. Ben lived before Alexander Graham Bell, so perhaps he didn't know about phoning it in.