The screen fades up from black,  to show a dark, rainswept
street.    Centre  screen  is  an  old-fashioned telephone
booth,  the  kind  made  out of red-painted wood paneling,
lit  by  a single neon street lamp.   From down the street
approaches  a  girl,  about  twenty  years old, long black
hair, wearing a leather jacket, a black leather miniskirt,
and   knee-length leather boots.   The only sounds are her
bootheels   clacking   and   the   faint  whisper  of  her
stocking-clad  thighs  brushing  against each other in the
quietness.    The  camera  tracks  her legs, following the
glint  of blue light off the curves of leather-clad thighs
as she moves.   She walks up to the telephone booth, opens
the  door,  enters.   Inside the booth, we see her pick up
the receiver.   It is one of the late-1970's sort, the one
shaped   like   a   banana   with   large  round  ear- and
mouth-pieces at either end. This is rather unusual, as the
coin-box  of  the  phone  itself  also sports one of those
cylindrical  mouthpieces  common  on  telephones  from the
early  1930's,  and is introduced as a deliberate anomaly.
She  taps  the  handset  hook,  listening at the receiver.
Apparently,  she  hears  no  dialtone,  as  she  slams the
coin-box  of  the  phone  with  the palm of her hand.  The
booth  rattles  with the blow, and then, in the quiet that
follows,  the  door  locks itself with a noticeable click.
Her  eyes  narrow slightly. She turns to examine the door,
and  then  hears  a  buzz from the handset. She raises her
eyes  in exasperation, then turns back to the phone.   She
puts  a  coin  in the slot, and dials a five-digit number.
A  laugh  emanates  from  the  handset,  and suddenly, the
mouthpiece  set  into  the  coin-box  elongates, thrusting
itself into her open mouth.   The end expands, forcing her
mouth  open,  expands  further, until it's so big that she
can't  get  it  out  of  her mouth.  She slams the handset
against  the  side of the coinbox, and it tears itself out
of  her  grasp,  winding  its spiral cord around her arms,
binding  them  to  her  sides.    The  handset  then spins
artfully,  and  dives  up  the  back  of  her skirt.  In a
closeup of her face, we see her eyes widen, hear her cries
muffled  by  the  mouthpiece  jammed  into her mouth.  The
handset  lifts  the  back  of  her skirt up, revealing her
behind,   and   then  slowly  forces  itself  between  her
buttocks,  and  up  her ass, ear-piece first.   Her behind
moves violently from side to side (yet always remaining in
shot)  as  she tries to avoid it, but the handset wriggles
all  the  way  in up to the mouthpiece, accompanied by her
screams.   In  a  closeup  of  her  face,  her  eyes widen
further,  and  her body is pushed up rhythmically with the
thrusts  of  the  handset.   (A  brief shot shows her legs
waving about as the thrusts lift her off the ground).  Her
screams  are  now more or less just bestial grunts, as the
speed  of the thrusts increases to a sort of climax, where
the  coinbox  buzzes,  her  cheeks  suddenly bulge and the
mouthpiece  stuck  in  her  mouth pops out, spurting white
fluid over her face. She spews almost a pint of this stuff
out, coughing and choking, and falls against the coin box,
from  which  comes a `ding' sound, and a clink as her coin
is  refunded.   The  mouthpiece set into the coinbox hangs
down limply, fluid dripping from the end.
