We start off with a montage of images as Pitbull is using his Announcer Voice to introduce Havana who, based on the glowing praise that Pitbull is tossing her way, apparently invented the solar system or something. We have strobe-lights flashing as Havana, or possibly Audrey Hepburn, sashays into what might be a fancy nightclub or a very progressive church. Since Pitbull is involved, it’s most likely a nightclub, because I’ve never seen him anywhere else. Does he even own a house?
This opening montage includes the first scenes of Havana and Pitbull standing in front of an intricately-carved door, striking various poses while fans blow air everywhere and stylists are on standby in case something unsexy should happen with the couture. The door must be very important in some way, because we keep coming back to the two of them perched in front of it. Are there record executives on the other side, trying to figure out who else Pitbull can do a duet with before he sets a new record?
It takes Havana a very long time to make her way down the entrance hallway, indicating some type of navigational issue, but once she enters the inner sanctum, people start dancing and screaming and looking beautiful. In the mean time, we also get shots of Havana wearing what will become two of her signature outfits for the video: a flimsy beige number that might qualify as sleepwear in a bordello and this red ensemble that includes an aggressive bow tied in her hair. More on those items later.
Havana finally starts to actually sing (in front of the mystical door, naturally), with Pitbull beside her either doing some minimalist choreography or motioning to one of his handlers that something itches. Then we zip over to Hair-bow Havana, as she sits on a red throne and vocalizes. It seems that her voice (or possibly the way she can’t sit still) inspires everyone around her to initiate an orgy right there on the dance floor. We have writhing bodies and expressions of ecstasy piled all over the place. This is not your grandpa’s VFW hall.
This goes on for a bit, in case we didn’t get it at first that Havana makes everyone horny, mixed in with shots of Havana somewhere else, wearing enough jewelry that she will never get through airport security in time to make her flight. Hair-bow Havana does look especially pleasing on that throne, and the orgy participants nearest the royal seat keep reaching over to paw Havana and show their appreciation. Or maybe they just need extra condoms, because this place is pretty busy.
Then we roll our way into a sequence where Havana is doing a Madonna tribute by wallering around on some floor whilst wearing what could be a wedding dress. It’s not really clear what’s going on, because they are using a spotlight that only lets us see bits of Havana at one time, because getting the whole enchilada at once might cause us to lose our minds with lust.
Oh wait, some of her friends from the Orgy Dance Floor have joined her, and there’s more pawing. It must be nice to have companions that will pet you on command. This segment also goes on for a while, with Havana apparently unable to get off that floor, to the point that they should probably call in a specialist. But Havana doesn’t seem to mind being on her back for such an extended amount of time, so they just let her writhe around until she’s motivated to do something else.
And really, that’s about it, folks. We’ve been introduced to all the locales and outfits, and from here on out it’s a busy mix of those same ingredients: the Pitbull duet in front of the door, the royal orgy in the nightclub and Havanadonna on the floor. To be fair, there’s a lot to look at, because everyone is so energetic and their libidos are fully-charged, but it’s safe to assume that the script for this thing could have fit on the back of a postage stamp.
Pitbull returns to the mix, of course, with a long bit in front of the special door, where he does his usual spiel about being too sexy for this planet and how a female is not a true woman until they’ve ridden the Pitbull Express. But the red jacket he’s wearing is a nice touch, and it coordinates just right with the ribbon on Hair-Bow Havana. Too bad they’re never in the same scene together so that we can fully admire the matching colors.
He also spends some time getting rather intimate with Havana, but I’m assuming this is a package deal when it comes to Pitbull. (If you’ve met Pitbull, you’ve met his tongue, what else can I say?) Then he flips us off and demands his paycheck. 17 seconds of work and he expects to be paid. Is he a Republican?
Then we cut to Havana being a DJ and running the soundboard. Perhaps she does this in real life, so I can’t comment on whatever skills she might actually have in this department, but I think the real reason she’s doing it now is so the editors can jack with the video and create three images of DJ Havana rocking the house. Which they promptly do, so that it looks like an army of Havanas has taken over a disco near you. Again with the fairness, Havana looks quite luscious as she fiddles with knobs and pumps her fist in the air, so seeing three of her doing that is not such a bad thing.
(That sound you just heard was Pitbull running to his handlers and demanding that he be replicated in his next project. More to have sex with, right?)
And from here on out we’ve seen it all. Simulated sex, constant bouncing, Pitbull. We do seem to spend an inordinate amount of time checking in with Havanadonna on that floor, but she still appears to be having a good time at that lower altitude so we really shouldn’t judge. And it becomes increasingly clear that all of the Havanas really like to touch their various body parts, but since this ability seems to be a requirement for emerging musical artists these days, we can’t really blame her for that mess, either. She’s obviously studied her craft, and her erogenous zones, very well.
The last bit of the video involves DJ Havana whipping out a sledgehammer and destroying one of the turntables. This is completely unexpected, and I’m not sure what the message might be, especially since the turntable she suddenly hates is responsible for playing the music that is giving her a career. Then again, I don’t have the special talent of being able to cause crowds of people to have sex just by the way I can sit on a throne or wear a ribbon in my hair, so I’ll just assume that Havana has her reasons for getting psychotic with the sound system.
The video ends with Havana thrusting the deadly hammer into the air and looking sultry. (That sound you just heard was Pitbull demanding that his handlers run to Home Depot and get supplies for his next project…)