Toss away the storyline on this one, boys and girls, and concentrate – I mean c-o-n-c-e-n-t-r-a-t-e – on Sheri St. Clair's eyes every time she says the word, Sex-O-Gram. They light up like she's been goosed by a joy buzzer.

But that is not to be taken as a put down. Quite the opposite. This women has sex appeal to melt your shorts, and has always done a tremendous job with throwaway material. In this one she is being interviewed by a platinum kewpie doll reporter with a Betty Boop voice who keeps asking innocuous musical questions about her mega-successful company, "Sex-O-Gram." Two guesses what this business is all about. Now we get the lowdown.

We discover Sheri's ambisextrous. No big shakes because it gives her an excuse to play hide the knockwurst with a couple of auditioning male would-be sex-o-grammers. She auditions everyone, you see, and later picks the petals of her little lotus blossom of a maid, Mai Lin. (Note to fetishists: there's a heavy foot scene here.)

Well, the more the reporter sees, the more she wants to be a Sex-O-Grammist. And sure enough, in a climactic orgy scene, our intrepid lady of the typewriter (or word processor) is offered as a virginal sacrifice to the Sex-O-Gram god.

It's during this free-for-all that you gotta catch Mai Lin (a la bulldog collar) performing a little embarcadero in newcomer Bambi Allan's nether regions, using what looks and sounds like an electric corn-on-the-cob.

You expected maybe high drama? Just enjoy the sex – it'll knock your nose off. And watch those eyes!