Mike (Williams) is a skinny, pale-faced freakboy with long, stringy hair, who jerks off to a clown porn DVD (that’d be “Clown Porn”, in case you wanna look for it), in the tasteful opening scene. Fortunately for us, he is quite rudely interrupted by his angry sourpuss girlfriend, who busts in on him. She kicks him in the balls and splits. That’s the set-up. The guy’s got problems. He can’t keep his hand off his dick.

Cutting to the chase, his pal at the porno superstore leads him to a splatterporn website. He orders one of their Satanic DVD’s, which features the rather voluptuous neo-goth porn starlet Caroline Pierce. She’s Andromeda Strange, the mistress of mayhem, and she is gonna fuck this kid up for life. Just watch her.

On the DVD, she masturbates herself into a bloody mess, which looks like some kind of weirdo menstruation porn, until she pulls out a straight razor and starts carving herself up with it. Then it’s something else entirely. I thought she might slice her own tits off for a second there, but instead she slits her throat and dies. Seemingly. “That’s enough, you sick bitch”, Mike says, in the understatement of the year. Then he adds, for dramatic effect, “That can’t be real.”

But you just know it is, right?

Like any self-respecting porn fan, he’s grossed out by the whole sordid affair, until the next day, when he’s watching it again, dick in hand. In the next scene, Andromeda is back, and she’s got a bound-and-gagged dude with her. She blows him – graphically – and then kills him. Also graphically. And then she talks directly to Mike. Which is a strange turn of events, indeed.

What follows is an enthusiastic, if not predictable, Twilight Zone-ish tale of porn-gone-wrong, mixing the multi-media creep-out of “The Ring” (and “The Phone”, and “One Missed Call”, and…well, you name it) with the kind of sex, guts, and pussy approach of modern-day splatterpunks like Jorg Buttgereit and Michael Schneider. Only without the soul-sucking pathos of those maniacs. And with a lot more shots of Caroline’s meaty porn star ass.

Although the direction and camera-work on this ‘un is pretty backyard, I will give Slaughter Disc the credit for going the furthest in mixing graphic, sleazy sex with cheap, dimestore gore since Joe D’Amato’s ’s over the top death-porn freakshow “Erotic Nights of the Living Dead” (1980). Actually, there might have been something in between, but I don’t necessarily go out of my way to find porn flicks with mid-coitus throat slashings in them.