We start out in the middle of what might be a swamp, with sunlight or possibly nuclear fallout dancing on the murky waters. Then Rihanna comes floating along, mostly submerged in the questionable water so that only her eyes and her hiney are visible. She’s apparently having a lot of fun doing whatever she’s doing, because we watch her bob along for a while, until she somehow manages to clone herself and we suddenly have two Rihannas, dripping wet and gazing at one another with lust and devotion.
We start getting glimpses of another Rihanna, this one possibly doing a tribute to Billie Holliday or at least women who like to wear tropical flowers on their head. Okay, maybe this isn’t a Billie tribute, because Rihanna is sort of pleasuring herself with a puffy thing on a stick, and I really don’t recall Billie ever doing anything like that, at least not in mixed company. In any case, this Rihanna is really fond of her little stick friend.
Then we cut to another Rihanna, this one doing a Harem Girl/Buccaneer Pirate sort of thing, in some desert-looking place where they have lots of really big boulders and some dead trees. She has several male buddies with her, and I guess they must have gotten some sand where it shouldn’t be, because everybody is hopping and jumping around like they have some crevices that they can’t get to. Luckily, this part of the song has a steady beat that accents their medical condition quite nicely.
This perkiness goes on for some time, with muscles bulging and sweat dripping and pantaloons billowing. Then it’s time for us to move on to a different set, and we join another Rihanna, this one sporting a hairdo that is all about Diana Ross during the “Eaten Alive” time period. She has lots of female friends this time, and everyone up in this grill is very invested in doing things that require them to lie on their backs and wave their legs in the air.
Then they start doing some aggressive line-dancing, with choreography that is heavy on the pelvic-thrusting, followed by a routine that you might see a high-school flag corps perform, if that high school was Our Lady of Perpetual Horniness and all of the students had lost their virginity years ago. (And where do these people get all this energy? I get worn out just hitting the snooze button on the alarm clock.)
The next Rihanna is a little more laid-back, reclining in a hayloft or some such and wearing a slinky dress that makes her writhe around and raise her arm to her head. (We get a few quick shots of Billie Rihanna, and we learn that there are now four of them for some reason, so there must be something in the water.) Then we zip back to Hayloft Rihanna for a bit, so she can show us the fancy jewelry that somebody has woven into her hair for no apparent reason other than to justify the cost of making the video.
And it’s time for some more calisthenics, as we rejoin Diana Rihanna and her backup dancers, although these girls definitely have more moves than the Supremes ever did. This time the gang is doing an interpretive dance which, based on the way everyone is flapping their legs and touching themselves in private areas, seems to be telling the tragic tale of what can happen if you get too close to the campfire while trying to roast your marshmallows.
Then we really kick it into high gear, with what might be Priestess Rihanna and Vaguely-Hindu Rihanna managing to clone themselves all across the screen as they have synchronized orgasms. In the midst of all this, some guy with a penchant for Keith Haring face-paint shows up long enough to look really angry about something and then he’s gone. We wrap up this section with the multiple Rihannas growing multiple arms and doing a nice Bollywood-on-Acid floor show.
We close things out with Swamp-Girl Rihanna heading back into the birthing waters that kicked things off, only this time she’s joined by several probably-male dancers who slither and splash about as Rihanna slowly sinks into the swamp and presumably turns into The Little Mermaid Rihanna…
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