We start off with some shots of a motel, then cut inside to one of the rooms where Fergie is living in total filth and squalor, so we know right away that she’s got some special issues. At the moment she’s wearing a Pebbles Flintstone outfit while cutting up some more pictures to put on her already-covered wall. (There’s an old TV plopped on the bed, showing footage of Slash so we can keep in mind that this is really his song even though the video is clearly all about Fergie.)
Fergie starts crooning a few notes, which causes the camera man to give us a few shots of her panties. Then Fergie touches her stringy hair, which helps her remember the actual words to the song, and she starts singing. (Quick glimpse of lots of prescription bottles, which is no surprise.) While Fergie warbles, we are treated to images of slash that Fergie has used as accessories in her dump of a room. Fergie clearly loves her some Slash.
But just in case her obsession is not obvious enough, Fergie stands up on the bed, leans against the wall, and then performs some booty-centric moves, with the camera lens right there at the two-moon junction. She also rides the TV for a little bit because, what the hell, we already know that this Happy Meal is missing some fries. Fergie artfully reaches between her spread legs so she can caress the TV screen, proving that big girls may not cry but they can be really, really slutty.
Fergie wallers around on the bed for a while, not seeming to mind that she’s sharing the bed with other things like old food, bugs the size of a Chihuahua, and most likely the body parts of her last infatuation. Once she tires of that, Fergie hops into the shower, because it isn’t a true rock video until someone with remarkable breasts does just that. She scrubs really hard, but you know she will never be truly clean again.
Fergie then proceeds to get dolled up for some outing that she’s apparently about to embark on. The lipstick looks pretty and all, but I don’t know why she’s even bothering with that outfit, since it doesn’t cover anything up. She’s now somehow even more naked than when she was taking the shower. Once she has thin strips of leather firmly shoved up her crack, Fergie is good to go.
She strolls down the street wearing her minimalist attire, and no one else even takes a second look, so she must be in New York City. She marches into some place where Slash and his band are playing. She watches him do this for a while, but no one is talking to her so she must not be a people person.
Cut to Fergie walking into a strip club, because everybody does that right after a concert. As vaginas twirl on polls, we watch Fergie spy Slash in this den of wholesomeness. He’s surrounded by thousands of women who just want to serve him shots from between their chi-chi’s, so Fergie’s gonna have to do some special things to get his attention.
So Fergie humps a bar stool until she catches Slash’s eye. He struts up and they converse briefly, about the weather or her fondness for Brazilian waxes. Then some other skank wanders up and tries to lure Slash away. Fergie is having none of that subterfuge, so she slips a drug into Slash’s drink, like any nice girl would do when they just wanna be loved.
Next thing you know, woozy Slash is following Fergie’s gash out the door. He wakes up in Fergie’s town dump, to find her giving her own interpretation of how a stripper should really dance. He admires the view for a bit, until he realizes that he’s tied to the bed. It’s not Saturday night, so he knows he shouldn’t be strapped down, and he tries to escape.
But nope, Fergie’s an excellent Girl Scout and the knots are secure. She then starts crawling up his body while Slash plays a nice guitar solo on the soundtrack. It takes Fergie quite a while to do this, so either Slash is really tall or Fergie needs a GPS to get where she’s going. She takes up a straddle position right over his crotch so she can do her own solo and flip her hair about.
She then snatches his hat off and pops it on her own head, a move that reminds her of party pics so she hops off the Slash ride for a bit so she can take some Polaroids of her drug-addled, unwilling lover. (Something tells me she has boxes of snapshots with the same motif.) Once she’s bored with that, Fergie climbs back on the Slash wagon.
Only she brought a friend this time, in the shape of a switchblade. Fergie decides it would be great fun to tease Slash by dragging the tip of the knife around on this chest. This causes Fergie to become so excited that she jumps all over the room like a howler monkey before she settles back down and resumes her position on Slash. She briefly tries to smother him with her breasts, but that must have taken too much coordination and she quickly gives it up, satisfied with running the knife around his nipples some more.
Out of nowhere, she rears back with the knife and plunges downward.
Cut to outside the motel, and we see Fergie’s light go off.
I guess for Slash, it’s not gonna be a good, good night…
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