Note: This is the explicit version. You have been warned. If unseemliness makes you itchy, perhaps you should just have a nice cup of tea instead. And, by the way, this video is LONG, as in 9 minutes. Brace yourselves.
Wow, looky here, seems we’re going to have us a big-ass production. We’ve got opening titles, a director, co-stars, and even the faint whiff of over-priced popcorn and annoying people who insist on yelling out “What do you think is going to happen next?” during the really dramatic parts. Somebody spent some money on this thing. Should be a good time. Here we go…
We start out with an opening shot of a chain link fence, topped with that razor wire that will slice off a limb in a mere second, so I’m thinking this is not going to be a laugh-filled comedy where people meet cute and have pretty hair. The credits roll as we see scenes indicating that this is one serious prison. Cut to inside the facility, where Lady Gaga is being escorted onto a cellblock by two of the harder-living Pussycat Dolls. (You’d think somebody would have mentioned to them that they should probably button their shirts. Seems a little unofficial to me.)
Then again, we’re not really supposed to be looking at the Dolls. We’re intended to focus on Lady Gaga, wearing an interplanetary outfit that would make her look like a zebra if she was standing on an African plain. The trio struts down the cellblock while we learn that the inmates in this place are all female and apparently are so horny that if a small earthquake tremor hit the building, the power of the unleashed orgasms would alter the alignment of the planet.
Gaga doesn’t care about the musk in the air. She’s more concerned with taking off her designer shades and handing them to one of the Dolls. Then the Dolls drag Gaga into one of the cells, and proceed to rip off her clothes. (Ever notice that Lady has no problem being naked in a public setting? I wonder if she went to private schools. They learn different things there.) Then the Dolls leave, probably so they can go learn some new dance moves. Their departure inspires Gaga to climb the bars so we can see she has electrical tape on her nipples and that there seems to be a pixilation issue with her crotch.
Now we’re in the “Exercise Yard” of the Big House, because everyone knows that physical fitness is the number one priority of people who have to shower in monitored groups. Lots of very muscular women are fiddling with barbells and hormone supplements. And here comes Gaga in another startling outfit, this one requiring that heavy chains be draped across her body and that her sunglasses be accessorized with burning cigarettes. (Can you imagine the pissed-off prop person that had to keep that thing going through hundreds of takes?)
The other prisoners stare at Gaga. Gaga stares at the other prisoners. This doesn’t resolve anything, so Lady sashays her way to a convenient table so that one of the butcher ladies can sniff Gaga’s hair. I guess Gaga used just the right conditioner, because this leads to a lusty kiss and requires that somebody’s hand (it’s unclear because there’s a tremendous amount of fondling and pawing) snatch up Lady Gaga’s cell phone. (Because everyone gets issued those in Alcatraz, right?)
Cut back inside the prison, where we seem to find ourselves in the midst of an odd daycare where the kids are really big. And felons. Now Gaga is sporting a hairstyle that involves Diet Coke cans and Gucci sunglasses. (Where the hell is the bitch getting all these accessories?) We watch an altercation of some kind, which involves lots of violent slapping and name-calling. (The Pussycat Doll guards don’t even bother to stop the ruckus, because they’re saving their strength to straddle stripper poles at a performance they have later that night.)
The intercom system announces that Lady Gaga has a phone call, so she and her studded-leather panties march over and pick up a receiver on the wall. Instead of having a normal conversation or confirming her pizza order, Gaga starts singing the song. (About damn time. We’re 3 minutes into this thing.) We don’t get to hear what the person on the other end of the line might have to say, but whatever it is, it causes Lady to hang up and break into a dance routine. One that involves Gaga tugging on her jacket and making Evil Hello Kitty scratching movements in the air. (I guess this is another private school thing that I don’t understand.)
Now we’re back on the cellblock, where everybody is wearing just bras and panties as Gaga tromps around and wails the song. (I understand that prisons can be pretty cold, so you know these thong-clad people are suffering for their art.) This goes on for a bit, with the strutting felons really getting down with their bad selves, and showing that some girls still firmly believe in the power of peroxide. (And where did they find so many pairs of hooker boots?)
Brief shots of Lady Gaga prancing around wearing nothing but “crime scene” tape. That girl can wear anything. She also likes to assume positions that prominently feature her pubis. She really loves that thing.
Next we have Lady Gaga apparently being bailed out by some unknown person. (A lawyer from Interscope Records?) She’s sporting an aerodynamic hat that could probably make it to Jupiter with the right wind thrust. She also performs some odd dance steps that one really shouldn’t do if they want to appear of sound mind and body. She sashays outside and hops into a tricked-out pickup being driven by…
Beyonce. Wearing black lipstick, an outdated hairdo, and no bra. Beyonce berates Gaga for her badness, munching on what might be a burrito or maybe the latest Billboard Hot 100 Chart. Then Beyonce offers a bite to Gaga, who takes a voracious rip at the thing, then they peel out and drive off to… I have no idea.
They roll down the highway, having a strange conversation about cows, burgers, cracked mirrors, and Lady’s ability to use the F-word freely. They seem to be plotting something, but it’s not clear if it’s a robbery, a drug deal, a murder or a Brazilian wax. Then Beyonce fiddles with the radio, and starts belting out her part of the song. (Lady Gaga, still wearing that stupid hat that takes up half the car, whips out a Polaroid and takes pictures of Beyonce and her lips singing the song.) I’m not sure what kind of issue Beyonce is having while singing and driving, but it requires that she lean over a lot so we can see that she is still not wearing a bra.
They roll up to some roadside diner, where we see a modified cowgirl wearing tight yellow leather making her way to a table, where some guy is sitting acting all street. Wait, the cowgirl is actually Beyonce, so I’m confused because I really don’t know when she had time to change her outfit. Home Boy, for no apparent reason, decides to wander around the diner and either rough up people or slap their butts. This allows Beyonce time to pour some poison into Home Boy’s coffee. It’s probably not a good day for Home Boy, which is fine, because he’s wearing a cap that is too old school for cool. It’s understood in Gaga videos that if your headwear can’t compete with the Lady, you have to die.
Home Boy, finished with his random molesting of the ladies, heads back to the table and swigs his tainted coffee. He starts to cough, and we cut to Lady Gaga somewhere else that looks like an industrial kitchen, with lots of pretentious queens flitting about and dancing with rolls of French bread. Oh wait, now Beyonce is in a skanky, badly-decorated hotel room, singing while wearing a jacket that she stole from Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation tour. The obvious theft doesn’t stop her from throwing her legs wide apart while sitting on the bed. Some things just come naturally no matter what you’re wearing.
Now we have some jump cutting, with shots of Gaga and the Queens making sandwiches, Beyonce apparently being given shock treatments while standing up, and a line dance in the industrial kitchen involving the waving of cookware implements and some breast touching (along with some choreographed hand-clapping). We don’t learn anything from this, but it’s fun and energetic, and Gaga gets to eat one of those sandwiches, so she should be able to keep her energy up regardless of what they stick on her head in her next scene.
Back to the diner, where Home Boy is still coughing. (I guess they didn’t need to use a fast-acting poison, since this video is tremendously long.) Whoops, now we’re in the industrial kitchen, where Gaga has decided to do an impromptu cooking show on how to use poison to kill people who piss you off or don’t understand the concept of turn signals. Then she snaps up one of her creations and marches out into… the diner. Okay, so this industrial kitchen was really the kitchen diner, which makes perfect sense, because all roadside diners have kitchens large enough to hold a chorus line of Desperate Housequeens with reality issues.
Gaga marches up to the table where Home Boy and Beyonce are pretending to like each other, and she slaps down her death-dealing patty melt or whatever it is. We watch while HB pours syrup on the entrée, gobbles it up, and starts choking again. (You know, it’s really time for Home Boy to head to the Pearly Gates, because they’ve been trying to kill him for a while now.) He finally kicks it, which allows Beyonce to also utter the F-word and then cover her mouth with fingernails painted with the American flag. (What the hell? And seriously, B-Girl. What’s up with those bangs?)
Now we see lots of people snarfing up their meals and proceeding to choke, while Lady Gaga strikes dramatic poses involving finger-pointing and close-ups of her vibrantly yellow wig. With all this sudden death, one would naturally resort to a line dance to move the story along.
So they do. Gaga is now in a hippie outfit and Beyonce is in a leftover costume from “Wonder Woman” while the surviving people in the diner bust some fancy moves while stepping over the sprawled bodies of the people who ate the Tuna Surprise. As the dancers shimmy and shake, we get shots of all the dead people, including a dog, so I’m thinking PETA is not going to endorse this video. As if Gaga cares whether they do or not.
While this very extended dance extravaganza is going on, we see more shots of Beyonce receiving shock treatments in that tacky hotel room. I’m not sure what we’re supposed to think about that, but based on the wide-open eyes of Beyonce while she vibrates, it looks like we might have a replacement for Botox therapy. (“Hello? I’d like to remove some wrinkles using a live electrical wire. Yes, I’ll hold.”)
We see the tricked-out truck peeling away from the diner, interspersed with shots of Gaga wearing something inspired by leopards and/or people who like to wear fur-covered hats. She appears to be standing in front of the tricked-out truck while prancing around in this latest outfit, so I’m going to assume that they are at a rest stop where they play disco music while you pee. This rest stop is probably not in Oklahoma.
Leopard Gaga dances for quite some time, long enough that we get to see her waving her fanny a number of times, so we’ll also have to assume that there’s not a “no loitering” policy at this rest stop. I don’t see any truck drivers, though, which is odd. But maybe Gaga has killed everybody here as well. (“Would you like a sample of my sushi?”)
Now we’re watching a “breaking news” story about a mass homicide at the diner. Cut to Lady and Beyonce dancing behind their “Pussy Wagon” truck, and wearing outfits that drug-taking nuns might choose. Then the girls hop back into the truck, have a conversation about going “far, far away from here” and “never coming back”. Then they clasp hands in a nice “Thelma and Louise” tribute, but they don’t actually drive off a cliff.
Because that already happened about eight and a half minutes ago.
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