“It is guaranteed to give you a clitorial rise in your Levis!”

Curious ‘80s East Coast porn video about a trio of friends (Lane, Leigh and Hunter) who rent an apartment for girl get-togethers away from their dullsville husbands. Lane and Leigh break in their new crash pad by fucking their “South American neighbor” (Carlos Valentino) and then each other within seconds of signing the lease; the terminally “square” Hunter, whose husband is in the Navy and is at first shocked, shocked by her friends’ behavior, turns out to be the biggest whore of the group by fucking Lane’s personality-free husband (and taking it in the ass to boot). Ron Jeremy shows up as a speedfreak sex toy salesman who sells the girls a suitcase full of dildos and strap-ons, then splits without taking his pay, only to return at the end of the film to collect the bill; if you don’t see from miles away that a) Leigh doesn’t have the money, and b) Jeremy has an alternate payment plan, please stop reading this review and start watching more porn. The wrap-up has Leigh leaving with Jeremy and abandoning Lane, who had planned a trip to the tropics or something with her. Oh, and Jeremy is the Devil. Left as non-plussed as we are by this news, Lane breaks out a vibrator and starts diddling her twat until she’s unceremoniously cut off by the end credits. The End. I don’t think I’m doing you any disservice by revealing Right Tool for the Job’s plot twist, since it doesn’t make a lick of sense and came so far out of left field that it’s possibly from another movie altogether.

Right Tool for the Job is a fair representation of what porn was like for teenage perverts like Sleazegrinder and I in the mid- to late-‘80s. The women were attractive, the sex was hot, if not particularly wild, and the movies themselves were… well, they were all as retarded as this, if not more so. Not that it mattered for us, and it won’t matter for you either, if you’re using Right Tool as your special Saturday night thing – and it’ll do the trick in that department, especially Leigh’s eye-popping deep throat of Jeremy’s monster tool, and Hunter’s electrified ass fuck session. I have to admit that it was more than a bit pleasant to discover that even in the face of 21^st century porn limitless cavalcade of sin and decadence, an ‘80s title could still deliver the goods. And if you’re okay with lots of big hair, miles of crinkly ladies’ undergarments, and a plot that’ll put your brain on the rinse cycle, you just might just agree.