Then the camera goes nuts; we head into the elevator, up the elevator shaft, do a few loop-de-loops, end up in some hall, nearly run over some poor waiter with room service, elude him, go down some more hallway, squeeze through the security peephole, and then get a view of the Strip through what is presumably a hotel room window. It's a pity the people in the bed are too busy to enjoy the view.
There's a big ol' slow-motion moment so we can confirm that verily, this is carnal activity, and because the woman in question is a) on top and b) tattooed, she is a brazen hussy who will bring men low. There is enough writhing to send L. Brent Bozell off in need of a lie-down, and then the music gets all, "Yo! Ready!" and the camera zooms back in reverse. Hey! I finally recognize this! It's "Ready, Steady, Go!" by Paul Oakenfold. It is about as lyrically complex as "Rock and Roll, Pt. 1" by Gary Glitter.
The camera gets up with James Caan's feet. We see a bunch of guys in black suits checking their weapons as they amble on down the hall. The camera, exhausted from its three minutes of labor, lies in the hall, panting and watching from afar.
On and on amble the men. Their leisurely stroll is intercut with leisurely writhing scenes. The hotel key slides in and out of the slot, because no metaphor is too subtle for prime time, and then the door bangs open.
Molly Sims looks over her shoulder, apparently delighted to be interrupted. That doesn't speak well of whomever she happens to be straddling. And then she utters the creepiest greeting ever: "Hi, Daddy."
Cue the shocked silence from Daddy and his pet goon. The young man on the bed recovers from the shock of having the blood rush back up to his head and VOs, "Daddy?"
Evidently the goon squad is not unfamiliar with the young man. He collapses back on the bed and VOs, "Welcome to the worst day of my life."
Cue the credits. It's Elvis's "A Little Less Conversation," which is probably what I'll be humming once the voice-overs get to me. ["It's also a fairly uninspired lift from Ocean's 11." -- Sars]
And then we're back to the show, where Danny McCoy -- a.k.a. Molly Sims's funhouse ride -- is busy VO-ing, "Never sleep with the boss's daughter, especially if the boss is Big Ed Deline." Helpful note for all men: before taking a tumble with that special someone, you might want to make sure her or his father's first name isn't preceded by an adjective like "Big," "Killer," or "Brutal." As Ed makes his way downstairs (this suite is swank) to confront his Electra-fied daughter, Danny rattles off Big Ed's macho CV. Big Ed says, "Let me get to that Judas in there!" while Molly Sims says, "Daddy ..." Danny's all, "Oh, no. He's gone straight to the Biblical references." I like the idea that Big Ed has a hierarchy of literary references for his assorted stages of pique. Does he hit the Ambrose Bierce when moderately annoyed? Apparently Sun Tzu's "Art of War" is the big bad. And here we go: "Hold out baits, entice the enemy, and then crush him." Is there room for Machiavelli in here, or does that only get brought out during employee evaluations?