In the shabby aisles of an anonymous exhibition centre, Charlet Duboc samples unappetising pornographic chocolates, and despairs at the fact that "three giant plasters," stuck on a vacantly poledancing model, can be passed off as lingerie. Bored-looking lingerie buyers are served hamburgers, waiting for the models to leave the stage, and only perking up when they're offered "free dildos". An outwardly charming old gent knowingly advises Duboc on the best sex aids: it's as geeky as the most obscure science fiction convention, only a lot less sexy.
Momentary distractions are provided by the "Lingerie Football League" and a champion G-string-maker (she makes twenty in an hour) - but overall, this venture into wonderful Las Vegas turns out to be thoroughly gloomy: a snapshot of exploitation, economic decay, and a society that relies on artificial stimulants for its pleasure.

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