will.i.am, Britney Spears – “Scream & Shout”

  Okay, folks, this one is crammed full of fun images as well as Britney singing in an odd British accent for no apparent reason and name-checking herself as “Britney, bitch!” as often as she possibly can. But there’s absolutely no story line, so we’ll have to do the time-stamp thing. And here we go…

0:01  wili.i.am appears first (because it’s his song, natch), wearing a ball cap that appears to be eating his head. I personally don’t care for couture with teeth, but to each his own.

0:02  Britney debuts her new hairdo, something that probably required 46 stylists and a temporary disruption in the gravitational pull of the planet.

0:05  Somebody is playing with the special effects button on their video editor, so we have an army of will.iams and Britneys lining up to kick our ass if we don’t like their song.

0:10  will.i.am does a product demo for a new computer line with a giant touch-screen that involves butterfly icons and the international warning symbol for “don’t go in this room, bad things have happened”.

0:15  Another lineup of Britneys, showing that she hasn’t eaten a solid meal since 2004.

0:19  Britney is demonstrating a new sign language that was developed just to go along with her aggressive hair.

0:25  Side view of the hair, in case you need to print out a copy of it for your next visit to Fantastic Sam’s. I’m sure they’ll be able to recreate it, no problem.

0:29  Britney shows us the proper way to serve dinner in a fancy restaurant, one that employs waitresses who have previously appeared as villains in James Bond movies.

0:31  We get quick images of people we don’t know, warming up to do something. I smell an upcoming line dance, you?

0:34  Britney is trying to determine the correct setting for her Sleep Number bed.

0:38  will.i.am, running through an abandoned set from The Matrix.

0:42  Oh look, Britney has joined him on that set, wearing an abandoned ice-skating outfit with tufts of poofy black fur that accent her womanly wi-fi hot spots.

0:48  will.i.am shows us his special hand jewelry that spells out the title of the song. That’s some serious bling right there. And heavy. How you gonna raise the roof if you can’t lift your arms?

0:53  Random product placement featuring a bright yellow camera  that has a keyboard and some pre-loaded video content apparently showing will.i.am using an ATM at 3 in the morning.

0:57  And there’s a group shot of those random dancer people. Whoops, they disappeared. I guess they haven’t practiced enough yet. I’m sure we’ll see them in a bit.

1:06  An odd machine that appears to be an electronic tablet attached to an old-fashioned typewriter from the days when “Model T” meant those new-fangled automobiles and not a contestant on RuPaul’s Drag Race.

1:10  will.i.am or Spike Lee? You decide.

1:14  And here we finally go with the line dancers. They seem to be very insistent about something, I’m just not sure what it is yet.

1:25  Why does that one dancer have a golden Dixie cup on her head? That can’t be very comfortable.

1:27  A human and a robot join hands in solidarity. Or lust. Stay tuned.

1:29  First shot of will.i.am wearing a “King” crown in a room with more lights and mirrors than Imelda Marcos had shoes.

1:37  Shot of one of those machines that can create full-dimensional images out of nothing, with this example being a human head. Is this how music producers plan to create pop starts of the future? Is this how Republicans are already producing candidates?

1:41  A champagne bottle that is also a rocket-launcher. I think.

1:49  What has that backup dancer been straddling that would make him walk like that?

1:58  A female Creature from the Black Lagoon uses an ax to smash a golden disco ball. This could mean a number of things, but I think all of the explanations would somehow include Lady Gaga in the police lineup.

2:05  We start getting scenes from a nightclub where everyone is angry and no one is wearing their own hair.

2:09  More product placement, this time a camera with a plaid design and nice gold accents. That’s a link that I might actually click on.

2:14  More of the angry nightclub, which actually reminds me of the opening scenes of The Hunger. Sadly, most of the people involved with this video weren’t even born when that movie came out. Let’s have a moment of silence for my decaying body and mind.

2:19  More line dancing. Maybe it’s just me, but you would think people would look a little happier when thrusting their hips in synchronization while music plays. What kind of school did these people go to?

2:25  Several members of the nightclub crowd suddenly realize that they have all dated the same guy.

2:33  will.i.am channeling Wesley Snipes from Blade. At least the first movie. They got a little bit cray-cray after that.

2:50  will.i.am looks terrified at the possibility that Britney and her circus outfit might not be wearing any panties. This is my own interpretation. Discuss amongst yourselves.

2:56  Another example of the “Britney, bitch!” shout-out, this time with two of the backup dancers spray-painting the phrase on a wall in case any of the viewers are hearing-impaired. How thoughtful.

3:10  An image of what appears to be one of Dr. Dre’s “Beats” boomboxes belching smoke. Is somebody dissing somebody? Or is this a tribute to the people of Colorado who can now legally purchase weed at their local electronics outlet? (Hey, it cuts down on pollution if you don’t have to make two stops on the way home from work, sayin.)

3:24  will.i.am doing something on the hood of one of those fancy cars where the doors open up instead of sideways. Personally, I’ve never cared for those things. Mainly because I’m the fool who would forget about the door direction and give myself a concussion just trying to get into the damn car.

3:35  will.i.am is still invested in wearing a crown and singing in that one room that looks like Grand Central Station on crack.

3:36  More cameras.

3:41  More shots of the mistreatment of golden disco balls.

3:42  A futuristic hunting lodge where the trophies on the wall are the participants in this video. Didn’t see that coming, and don’t know where it’s going.

3:53  Britney and her bubble butt perched atop a giant spinning marshmallow. Or something like that.

3:55  Britney and her circus outfit manage to levitate burning golden disco balls. Now that I have written the oddest line ever on my blog, I can probably retire.

3:57  Maybe not. One of the burning balls just ate will.i.am’s head.

4:10  Britney demonstrates where the emergency exits are located on the plane.

4:13  Britney poses on her hands and knees. Her hair does not.

4:19  A backup dancer sporting startling crotch-décor invites us to join him and his drugs on the dance floor.

4:27  will.i.am uses a strange device to shoot cobwebs into the air that ensnare lifeless people around him. Where do you get one of those things? I could sure use one at work.

4:41  End trans.

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Britney Spears - “I Wanna Go”

We start out with Britney at a press conference where she is fielding questions while wearing high heels covered with spikes and a t-shirt indicating that something unpleasant may have happened to a famous cartoon rodent. Turns out the reporters are asking some really lame-ass questions, but it takes a while for this to sink in because we’re fascinated with the way Brit’s heavy mascara is making it hard for her to keep her eyes open.

Britney suddenly gets fed up with the stupidity (totally biting my tongue right here), instructs most of the reporters to sexually violate themselves in a rough manner, and then storms out of the room. Luckily she must have passed a changing room before she got to the front door of the building, thus allowing her to switch costumes before she tromps out onto the sidewalk, doing one of those “I’m a supermodel and you’re not” walks.

While the main story plays out, we also get jump shots of Britney performing the song, wearing fingerless leather gloves and unexplained pink streaks in her hair. Back to the sidewalk, where a crazed male fan runs up to her and begs for an autograph. Britney complies happily, first by tonguing a pen that was conveniently tucked between her boobs, then she scribbles her name on a CD, shoves it at the ecstatic adolescent, and grabs a handful of his booty. (I had to replay this bit, because at first it looked she might have gone for the kielbasa.)

Naturally, the boy-man stands there in shock, not really sure how to process this development, which will probably, and sadly, be the most important thing that has ever happened in his life. He finally expresses his excitement by doing a hands-free backflip. (Wow. Just what would he have done if she had sampled the sausage?)

Britney takes off down the street, flirting with a few more males as she does so, including a baby in a carriage. (A nod to K-Fed?) She comes across a policeman writing out a ticket to a man sitting in a strawberry-red Volkswagen Beetle. (I’d give him a ticket for picking that color, too.) Out of sympathy for the plight of the man in the car, or maybe just boredom, Britney rips open her top and reveals her hardware display. (We’re behind her and can’t see much, which is a little sad, but really, has she ever worn a top that didn’t allow us to visualize exactly what she’s got? I think we’re fully aware of her exact dimensions.)

The camera jumps around, letting us see that all of the males in the area are absolutely mesmerized by the mammaries, and then focuses on the reaction of the policeman. He seems to be a bit perturbed at first, but I guess he quickly gets over it, because next thing you know he’s got Britney sprawled over the hood of the strawberry car and is frisking her doggie-style. (This does nothing to stop her from singing, but it does allow her traffic cones to dangle and caress the curves of the hood.)

What The Man is hoping to find lodged somewhere we don’t really know, but he must be worried about something up in that skintight grill because he spends quite a bit of time on the hunt. Then apparently they have some quickie sex, because we cut away for a bit and come back to see Britney walking away, twirling his handcuffs while he buttons his shirt back up. Girl knows how to get things done and then get back to the shopping.

Next up we have Britney encountering some paparazzi guy, something I’m sure she’s familiar with since they hide in her trash cans and bathrooms and such. At first she’s real sweet, posing for him and blowing him kisses, because she loves everybody that will take a picture of her. Then she gets an attitude, snatches away his fancy camera, and hurls it to the sidewalk, shattered bits flying. (Honey, is your bustier a little too tight?)

Apparently this bit of destruction titillates Britney to some degree, and she decides that she needs more of that apple juice. She rushes out into the street, and climbs on top of a taxicab that is stupidly parked there. 4 other paparazzi appear out of nowhere and also hop on top of cars. (Is this a new line-dance craze? To the left, to the left, to the left, climb on a vehicle. Even though there’s no parking on the dance floor.)

Britney stares down the four guys, while we get jump shots of her belly button giving a performance somewhere else. Then she suddenly whips out a microphone on a really long cord. (Wow. Based on her minimal outfit, there’s only one place she could have been storing that.) Kill Bill Britney starts whirling the microphone around her, striking down the Evil People With Cameras, one by one. (Interesting to note: When the mike slams into them, the guys emit sparks before crashing to the ground. Oh?)

Once all the pins have been knocked down, Britney just stands there in a triumphant and saucy manner. Until she spies one of the photogs getting back up, his damaged face looking all Terminator and stuff. And the other dudes are the same way. Whoopsie, we have an issue. Time to dash, Brit. Run like the wind, girl!

Luckily, a guy with a convertible just happens to drive up. (We’ll overlook the fact that this street was entirely blocked off with cars right up to this magical point.) And he even knows her name, beckoning for her to hop in. Yay! They zoom down the street.

And decide to go for a ride in the country, because who wouldn’t want to do that when you’ve just killed four men and then they pulled a Lazarus on you. Anyway, the brisk country air convinces Britney that she needs to abandon even more of her clothing, as well as stand up in the car and wave her arms about like a sorority girl after her first experience with a beer bong.

They travel across the land, me and you and a… carton of milk? The driver whips out a container of the white stuff that he had stashed behind the seat, (what?), and then proceeds to pour the milk all over his face while still clipping along at 80mph. This goes on for a very long time, with Britney and her cleavage encouraging him. Then Brit notices that his cool leather jacket is smoking, so she rips it open and discovers that he’s a machine, too! Egads! Poor thing just can’t get a break.

Cut back to the original press conference, where Britney shakes off her daydream, and is still fielding questions from the asinine reporters. Suddenly, the guy with the milk fetish and the dysfunctional circuitry walks up to Brit, only now he seems normal and dry. Or is he? As he rescues Britney from the Bad People Who Write Stories, dragging her away, he hands her some seashells and then they waltz away. Just before they round a corner, he looks back, and we see the evil red eyes of a robot.

Which means he must be a music producer, right?


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Britney Spears - “Till The World Ends”

We start with words splashing across the screen that it’s “December 21st, 2012”, while ominous clouds of something fill the sky. Great. I guess Britney has spoken with her personal prophetess and we’re all going to kick the bucket in a few months, which sucks tremendously, because I’m fairly certain that I won’t have all my Facebook games to the top level by then, and all my work will have been pointless. But hey, maybe Brit’s got some special ideas on how to live our remaining time in a fun way. Let’s check it.

Okay, first we get a shot of Britney’s high-fashion legs walking in a tunnel, so apparently we should spend some time walking around in couture in closed-in spaces. She’s got some of her posse with her, and they meet up with some other folks in wherever this dank place is. Everyone seems to be on the sweaty side, not sure what’s up with that, but all the folks still look sexy because it’s a Britney Spears video and it’s a requirement that all participants be young and hot.

We eventually get a full shot of Britney, and she’s once again trussed up in something black with metal studs, her hair looking slightly naughty and dirty. She sings roughly 7 words and then the camera pans away from her, so I’m not sure that the cameraman really understands what his focus should be. Anyway, the camera goes above ground, where we see some guy diddling with a manhole cover, trying to get it open. Two wandering, leather-clad skanks see him doing this, and rush over to help out. Must be something special in that there manhole.

Back to Britney, as she warbles the song and wanders around this industrial complex, where we seem to have a tremendous amount of people wearing the least amount of clothing possible. (To make sure we understand the clothing minimalism, the camera is basically rammed up the behinds of several thin actresses.) Most of these people are not really doing anything, so Britney decides it’s time for a dance off.

Instantly, a clearing appears in the sea of sweating bodies, and Britney is joined by several lovely lasses who also enjoy wearing thongs. While they gyrate and thrust their arms in the air, we get jump shots of the probably-poisonous clouds still billowing outside, along with buildings possibly crumbling, just in case you forgot for a second that, you know, everybody’s going to die. We also get shots of other well-gelled people slipping into that manhole, so apparently Britney’s Boiler Room is the place to be.

Britney, always a professional, works the crowd by wandering around and letting people see her underwear. She’s briefly distracted by some dude looking really skinny and not right (think Christian Bale in that movie where he lost all the weight and went crazy, not a good look). Then Britney is magically back on the dance floor without her home girls, so I guess she fired them. We get side shots of lots of people feeling very amorous and rubbing themselves on one another. (Yet another requirement of a Britney Spears’ video. There’s a handbook, you know.)

Oh wait, now the home girls are back, and they are doing a dance with Brit that looks like they’ve all managed to sit on a cattle prod at the same time, jerking and shimmying. This somehow ramps up the audience and everybody gets even more naughty with as many neighbors as they can reach. Or maybe it’s the images of possible meteors or some such starting to slam into nearby buildings. Something’s got these people sexed up.

And there are more people on the dance floor, so I guess not everybody found a hookup or three in the audience. We also get some side shots where Britney appears to be dancing in front of a screen made out of all her gold records, then we head back to the main room where people are thisclose to having all-out sex to the beat of the music and the wailing on the track and the possible aphrodisiacal appeal of the planet being destroyed.

Now Britney is somewhere else in her underworld, leaning against a concrete pillar (is she tired?) while three male models gaze at her adoringly and sweat. She must really like this part of the set a lot, because she actually remains relatively still for at least two seconds. Then she’s back to gallivanting all over the place, with her posse now composed of males whose only goal in life is to touch Britney’s body and clothing, as if trying to figure out what she would look like if she ever wore a complete outfit.

Then we cut to… maybe a bomb shelter? Some cement room where lots of people have been crammed. While a production assistant screws with flipping a red light on and off, Britney and her cellar buddies do that synchronized thing where everybody hunches their shoulders to the beat. And still manage to have anonymous sex with strangers without losing that beat.

Okay, back to the main room for another line dance, this one with Britney and her stable of athletic, multi-racial studs. Not to be outdone, the girl posse and some of their friends undulate offstage with a tenacity that you usually only see in churches where people handle snakes and wear bad polyester clothing. We get to the point where you can’t tell who is doing what to whom, but they all seem to be having a swell time, so I guess it’s all good. Until somebody ends up pregnant. Then there will be a lot of finger-pointing and unanswered phone calls.

This raucous free-love choreography goes on for quite some time, with basically everybody getting a chance to ride all the rides in the amusement park. Yay.

Suddenly, just as Britney wails the line about “see the sunlight, we ain’t stoppin’”, we start seeing images of that sunlight breaking through the nasty clouds and such. (How cinematically convenient!) Now, I think these people are supposed to be pleased about the sunlight, but you really wouldn’t know it based on their reactions. Instead, most of them are reacting to the rays like it’s “True Blood” and Simple Sookie done screwed up and ripped some tinfoil off Bill’s parlor window.

Then I guess some assistant director stepped in and told the cast “look, dripping sex-bots, you are HAPPY that the sun is shining on you. This is NOT last-call at the after-hours bar and you have to go have sex somewhere else. The planet has been saved, and that’s a good thing.” With this bit of advice, we start to see most of the crowd untangle themselves from their random partners and look toward the sun with an attitude that might be feasibly approaching glee.

And the party gets started again, with everybody thrusting body parts about in rapture, especially when the sprinkler system kicks in and they all get drenched. (Don’t really get why the sprinklers didn’t work when the sun wasn’t shining, but hey, to each his own.) And that’s how we wind things down, with the boys and the girls and their minimal amounts of leather and morals all gyrating madly to the song, thrilled that the “everybody is going to die” business no longer applies due to the grace of Britney warbling a dance tune and doing pelvic thrusts.

Speaking of, Britney appears in the final scene, literally popping up by shoving her head out of that manhole and gazing about with wonder at the new world. Something tells me this might happen every day with her. Just guessing…



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Britney Spears - “Hold It Against Me”

Wow. This is one messed up video.

We start off somewhere in outer space, where a rude little meteor or flaming spacecraft of some kind has decided to attack the planet, or at least make a quick stop at the local Starbucks. Then we start seeing scenes of people prepping a really intense soundstage of some kind. People are racing about setting things up, while the camera is jumping around all over the place and low-paid staffers are making sure that Britney has the exact amount of contractually-defined jelly beans in her makeup room.

The flaming thing finally crash-lands, which first triggers the power grid to make everyone’s lights all pastel and pretty, then triggers Britney to walk out on that soundstage wearing a very industrial bra. This is followed by more jump-cutting, with close-ups of video equipment and ghostly people wearing underwear. (This might be something that happens all the time in L.A., but you’d get a shotgun pulled on you in Texas if your panties can glow in the dark.)

Oh wait, now Britney is singing, even though it’s clear that her backup dancers are still putting their pants on and not quite ready to thrust their crotches to the beat. (Britney must be in a hurry. There might be another family member that she needs to sue in order to regain control of her own life.) While the dancers try to hurry up and dress, Britney does a lot of things that involve showing us her armpits.

Look at that, Ms Britney If You’re Nasty is wearing a string of bullets as a useless but shiny belt. That’s nice, Brit. Let’s promote bullets in a world where so many people already don’t understand that those things can actually kill people. Then she tops this off by waving around a bottle of her own cologne, which is really important. I often watch music videos just so I can understand how I should smell.

The backup dancers are still trying to put clothing on, which is a little amazing, since these guys are clearly past the point of puberty, judging by the light-enhanced bulges in their skivvies. You’d think they’d know how to dress themselves by now. In a tragic moment of realism, we see that one of the dancers has apparently had his hair colored by former set designers on Fraggle Rock. Poor thing.

Next we have Britney waving her arms in a frenzy like Paul Revere just rode by on his horse, bellowing that we might have some uninvited dinner guests. Hearing this, Britney changes into an enormous dress where all of the non-hypocritical Republicans in America can hide under her skirt. (On second thought, it’s probably pretty lonely in there, so scratch that.) Then we have a montage of Britney in this all-white getup, touching her head and letting fans blow her hair about while her breasts fight to stay covered.

Oh look, there’s some type of hydraulic system in her panties, because Britney is now airborne. This prompts Brit to show us her fancy gloves and overdone eyeliner. (I’m just going to ignore the IV tubes she suddenly starts waving about, because neither she nor I have any valid explanation for THAT.) This leads to a montage of overly-caffeinated chorus boys hopping about and playing squat tag with the camera.

Britney decides to look something up online about the best places to find fish bait in America. Not really sure why this is critical, but it does allow her to prominently feature a “Sony” computer. I’m going to guess that they are sponsoring her in some way. Or maybe Brit thinks SONY stands for Sluts of Negligent Yearning and she really wants to be a part of that.

Very brief scene with Britney’s lips paying homage to the start of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”. Something tells me this part had to be explained to her.

Weird scene with Britney having a small meltdown whilst surrounded by hundreds of microphones. Was it really wise to go there, Miss Impromptu Haircut?

Okay, good, now we have some dancing, which is something basic that we can all understand. I’m a little confused by the baby bibs that the dancers have hanging out of their pants, but at least they finally got those pants ON. Whatever the case, now that they are properly dressed, those dancers are able to pivot and flip all over the stage like they just spotted the image of Jesus in a tortilla.

And we’re back to Britney in the inflatable, skyscraper dress. She does some more hand movements and mascara close-ups, which leads to the dancers wearing outfits that make me think of monks who really like to be in an antiseptic environment. This doesn’t stop them from dancing, of course, because once you have the music in you, or a crabs infestation, you can’t help but wave your arms when you wear a white hoodie.

Now we have some mess with Britney appearing on video screens and speaking in a slightly-British accent. I’m not even going to go there. Then Britney squirts paint out of her fingers (not making this up) which triggers a sequence with two Britney wannabees having a fistfight as if Tina Turner cloned herself in “Mad Max: Beyond Thunder Dome”. These two wail away at each other while Giant-Dress Britney keeps squirting paint all over hell. I’m thinking we’ve lost control.

I should probably mention that the odd kung-fu and paint-spillage goes on for far longer that one would expect, accented by shots of additional strange people reenacting scenes from “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”. Except without any actual skilled actors. Or a plot. Or… any sense of societal worth. (Just like the Republican National Convention!)

Did I mention this goes on too long? Seriously, can we stop with the “Kill Bill, Part 3: Revenge of Girls and Martial Arts Gone Wild”?

Well, now at least they’re doing things in slo-mo, which adds a slightly artistic quality to the goings on, but it’s still basically the same thing. Thelma and Louise are now fed up with each other, and insist on trying to kill one another while wearing stilettos and mini-skirts. Britney is able to create a Pride Rainbow pattern just by waving her arms around. And the dancers are unable to remain still because their outfits are chafing in all the wrong places.

Oh, wait. I think Thelma and Louise just died. And Britney tripped and fell down in the middle of her self-imposed color wheel. This is a very sad video. Are they going to kill Bambi’s momma next? I’m not sure if I can take that.

Whoops, we’re not done. All the dead (or at least very tired) people are coming back to life, which inspires Britney and the Underwear Corps to do a final line dance. They’ve all changed to black outfits, probably to match the real color of Britney’s pubic hair, because the truth had to be told at SOME time, and the shimmying continues. To make sure we understand that this is the finale, somebody starts releasing dry ice vapors from the stage floor, and Britney wears a pretty necklace that makes her fondle her thighs.

We close out with confetti falling from the ceiling (“Despite my weirdness, all I really want is to party and make you happy. And for you to buy my perfume. You get a free pair of my panties for every fifty dollars spent!”) and the dancers thrusting their crotches with such vehemence that life-long virgins who watch this video will instantly be with child….



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Britney Spears - “Toxic”

  We start off with what looks like an apocalyptic setting, and suddenly two vicious birds are flying obnoxiously toward us before zipping past. While we ponder why the hell that was necessary, here comes a futuristic plane ready to kill us as well. (Does Britney want us to die?) The camera zooms through the cockpit, past the two pilots who are cute (of course), out the cockpit door and down the main aisle toward a flight attendant who clearly had an issue with her costume because I’m seeing far more flesh than I care to at 30,000 feet. Or on the ground.

  This chippy is facing away from us for now, in an attempt to build drama, but we know it’s Britney because the producers aren’t going to spend the cash on an opening like that for just any old drag queen. Brit picks up a handy nearby phone, then whips her head around for full disclosure and starts singing into the phone. (Is the girl just not comfortable with herself unless she’s holding something that feels like a microphone?) She sings for a bit, and does a few twirls so we can see her skimpy outfit was designed to enhance the fact that she has breasts. As if we didn’t know this from her other videos.

  Cut to Britney somewhere else, writhing on the floor and wearing a new outfit that can only be described as basically non-existent. (Sure, we have some strategic glitter patches, by why even bother?) Back to the plane, where Britney is serving people champagne from a cart and hooker-walking her way down the aisle in a manner that suggests there’s a live crawfish lose in her panties. For some comedy relief, Britney spills some champagne in the crotch of a nerdy passenger, and then affects a surprised look reminiscent of Lucille Ball. If Lucille were wearing an outfit that you can accessorize with a stripper pole.

  Britney snatches up a napkin and proceeds to man-handle the guy’s crotch in an exuberant housekeeping gesture, which triggers the video to cut back to Writhing Britney, still wallering around on that floor and not really wearing anything. Back to the plane, where Brit and the other traveling tramps, I mean flight attendants, have decided to do a line dance in the aisle. (Maybe the in-flight movie wasn’t working properly?) These girls seem very excited about the opportunity to caress a luggage bin with lusty abandon.

  Easily distracted, Britney then focuses on another nerdy guy walking down the aisle, signaling him to come toward her with one naughty finger. He doesn’t seem to understand what she wants, so Britney makes it clear by using her breasts to tune in Tokyo.

  Next thing you know, the two of them are scampering into the bathroom so they can have upright sex. Britney decides that her mating choice needs to be cuter, so she rips off his face and he turns into Brad Pitt with long, blond hair. (Hey, does that really work? Might need to try that.) More shots of Floor-Hunching Britney, then back to the loo, where Britney finishes the bump and grind by pinching some device from Brad’s pocket and flouncing out the door.

  Zip over to another setting that requires Britney to wear a red wig and disco sunglasses. Oh, it must be Paris, because now they’re conveniently showing us the Eiffel Tower in the background while Britney appreciates her own body. Then she runs to hop on a motorcycle being driven by another cute guy who is pleasingly shirtless. (Can you imagine the call sheet for his character: “Need muscular guy who hates clothes but can straddle a machine and look hawt.”)

  They race through the Parisian streets, irritating locals at cafes and causing one Lolita’s dress to fly up so we can see her panties are too small. Britney spends some time undulating on the back of the bike, so she must really like things that rev. Or wearing hair of an unnatural color. We also get more shots of Trollop Britney still doing the splits on that stage, as well as some fishnet-hose-clad S&M girls who appear to be comparing kneecaps.

  Eventually, Britney either falls off the motorcycle or is thrown off by Shirtless who has decided that she is too high-maintenance. In any case, Britney assumes a huntress pose in the middle of the street to assure us that nothing important has been damaged.

  Brief shot of Brit bellowing into a phone and then something exploding. No idea.

  Now Britney is walking down a futuristic hallway that is on fire, which is not something that I would suggest, but I’ve never worn a wig like that so I don’t really know what it might inspire you to do. This bit of defiance causes Floor-Hunching Britney to finally stand up and wave her hands over her head. She has been healed! Can we get a hallelujah?

  Fire-Tunnel Britney is now doing something electronic, like hacking into a secure area or maybe creating a vibrator that can also clean house. Hacking Britney races into the room she’s just breached, and snatches up a small bottle with something green. (Birth control pills? Because I’m thinking she might need them.) Britney then goes back out into the Fire Tunnel, which is now apparently the Laser-Lightshow-Tunnel. This change of scenery inspires Britney to do some nice moves that involve high-kicks, yelling, and telling us to be quiet. (Girl, I ain’t said nothin. Don’t look at me.)

  Floor-Hunching Britney is now sprawled out on said floor again, so I guess her healing was only temporary. This is what happens when you have HMO’s.

  Laser-Tunnel Britney does some flip-kicking moves that causes something to get smashed, and then we cut to people having sex in a shower. (I probably missed something in the transition.) Brief glimpse of Hunching Britney still not healed, and then Laser Britney fighting off a cloud of flying projectiles. (People returning her last CD?)

  It doesn’t really matter, because now we have Britney in another wig, climbing the side of a building using popsicles. She gets to the top floor, and does a flip move while wearing a leather outfit, both of which she stole from either the “Blade” or “Underworld” movie series. In this fancy penthouse room, she encounters a cute guy that might be Airplane Brad Pitt, but I’m not sure because the penthouse is spacious and they are not crammed together, having sex while hovering over a toilet portal that could hurl your ass into the jet stream. (Hunching Britney is still popping up throughout this bit, but we’re basically over her. Bitch can’t walk and she’s horny. Got it.)

  Blade Britney throws Brad on the bed. Then she throws him on the floor. Then she straddles him like it’s a Disney E-Ticket ride and they make out. Britney stops tonguing him long enough to whip out a vial of the green stuff she stole while wearing the red wig, and she pours it in his mouth. (Kind of rude, right? That Britney. Sell a few billion CD’s and you think you have the right to change how people have foreplay.) But Brit’s all done with this scene, giving Brad a quick peck on the lips and then running to throw herself over the side of the building.

  And she lands in the plane where all this fun started. She gives us a wink (I was just kidding about being an international spy tramp. I just like to fly the friendly skies and serve cocktails.) and then proceeds to lean her breasts into the face of another passenger.

  He orders two of them…


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