FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"A what?"

Fox sighed in exasperation.

"Just what I told you."

"Etymologically speaking it makes sense, but I've never heard the term used before."

"It's a bit complicated I'll agree. When the inventor created the first sound recording device he called it a phonograph. Nowadays we don't use any technology that obsolete, not even vinyl records."

Dana snorted. "They're making a comeback you know."

"Hmmm. Really? Maybe I'll dig out my old record player. I can't be left out of the retro loop you know."

"Don't get distracted from your story."

"Oh yes. A photograph is a visual image transferred onto paper."

"Or a digital image on a computer. Get to your point," she said exasperatedly.

"Ok, ok! Everyone uses the term pornography or pornographic, but no one uses the old root word - pornograph."

"Is it really a word?"

"Sure it is, even if they have managed to erase it from the dictionary. Some words just fall from favor. People just call modern sex movies pornos, which I think lacks a certain sophisticated style. I mean, how would you rather say this; I was in a porno - or - I starred in a pornograph? The latter sounds much classier not to mention a whole lot sexier."

Dana couldn't help herself.

"So Fox, have you ever starred in a pornograph?

"Sully! I thought you'd never ask! Look up the movie title Furry Friends on all Fours sometime."

"Thank you but no."

"Your loss!"

"I'm sure it isn't. So what's the deal with this machine you're talking about?"

"You see, the word pornography is actually based upon an old Roman word for prostitute. It was modified after the turn of the twentieth century to describe blue films that were coming out of the infant movie industry at the time. It didn't take long for moralists to describe any form of nudity or sexual content as porn, even down to the written word."

"I am well aware of the latter part. We here at the FBI still prosecute some forms of it, remember?'

"Those are only the unenlightened ones Dana."

"Those are the ones doing their job Fox."

"Like I said..."

Dana rolled her eyes before moving the conversation back to the subject at hand.

"This machine?"

"Ah yes. The invention of one Phileas P. Crowe."

"The avian film director from the silent movie era?"

"The very one!" he exclaimed, proud of her for recognizing the name.

"I heard he was quite the odd duck."

"Wrong species, but yes, he was known to dabble in questionable matters."

"Didn't he go to jail on lewdness charges?"

"Only perfunctorily. He paid off the jury, made a prison-themed flick of a questionable nature and came away richer in the end."

"And this guy made a machine that does what?"

"That's what we're going to find out. There were reportedly several of them made and each of them was listed as having been destroyed at some point. All except for Crowe's personal one."

"I thought his estate was dissolved ages ago."

"And so it was; to a degree. Everything in his studios was put on the auction block after his death. However, his estate outside of Hollywood remained in the family until recently. The new owners stumbled across his private den in the basement and with it a few unsavory items."

"Such as?"

"Well for one, hundreds of nude images of all of the stars and starlets of the day."

"Really? I didn't think that was allowed back then."

"Allowed? Maybe not. But such photographs were appreciated by a select few, frowned upon in most circles and career ending in almost all cases. "

"Are they of famous stars or just of up and comers."

He grabbed a piece of paper.

"Let's see. I don't know how you are with your old time actresses, but there's Piggy Allenby, Marion Aye-aye, Clara Cow, Anita Bushbaby, Helen Badgerly, Gertrude Bambirick, Louise Beavers; just to start with the front of the alphabet."

"A collection of such rare nude photographs like that would be worth a small fortune."

"Yes it is. And quite honestly, a ticking time bomb for whomever owned it. Most of those stars were well respected and news of such images would tarnish their reputations forever."

"Where are these photos now?"

"They're in safe keeping for the moment. It was determined that they should not be destroyed but that they also couldn't be released to the public until all the stars in them were deceased. There are a few from that time period who are now in their nineties."

"I find it hard to believe that someone isn't trying to make a profit from this."

"There are a few good folks in the world Sully."

"And this person also has this...pornograph device?"

"It's specifically known as Crowe's Enhanced Performing Pornograph. Oh yeah, Patent Pending"

She snickered. "Performing? So what's its purported purpose?"

"From the name alone it was obviously used in the making of some of his bluer films. The problem is that many of those films were destroyed decades ago so we don't know what all was on the celluloid. To determine what role this thing might have had in making them we would either need the films or to examine and figure its mechanism afresh."

"So where is this equipment?"

"If all of the components are there, then we might be able to reassemble it. As for where it is, have you ever been to Hollywood?"

"No."

"Then grab your sunglasses Dana Baby. We're going to the place where dreams are made!"

Their flight into LAX was smooth and the two agents, dressed in casual attire, waited in line at the car rental agency for a few short minutes before Fox was handed a set of keys. They took the tram to the parking lot where after walking a little ways, Smolder clicked the security button on the key fob. A beep-beep sounded a few rows over. Sully raised her eyebrows when she spied the vehicle.

"A Mercedes convertible? Requisitions will be having kittens!"

"Not that I'll be the father of," he answered back, totally deadpan.

"I'm serious."

"So am I. And besides, I get tired of the same old sedans. This is California! Be big! Act even bigger! Besides, what they don't know won't hurt them."

She let it slide. It was obvious he wasn't in the mood to discuss it. He got into the driver's seat, put on a pair of sunglasses and stared at himself in the rearview mirror.

"Welcome to Hollywood dah-ling, where dreams are made and broken."

"Ha ha.," laughed Dana halfheartedly. "Do you even know where you're going?"

"Of course!"

He punched the address into the car's GPS and sped off out of the airport complex and onto the highway. Traffic was steady, but no worse than the rush hour around the Capitol. In no time he had the car in cruise control as they headed to the city of the stars. They hit the outskirts of Hollywood in ten minutes, after which he dropped his speed so that he could rubberneck his surroundings. They passed by mansion after mansion, each trying to outcompete its neighbor for being the most ostentatious.

Fox pointed to different ones and called out the home's former owners, shunning the names of those living there now. He considered many of them to be unworthy of the greatness that built this town. But then, that was just his opinion.

As he drove, the estates grew fewer and fewer until he was outside of the city proper and heading into the hills surrounding it. The GPS directed them to a concrete lined drive blocked by a peculiar old iron gate. There was a modern intercom that was an anachronism to the otherwise dated entryway. He reached out and pressed the buzzer. A moment later a male voice answered the summons.

"Who is it?"

"Fox Smolder and Dana Sully."

"Oh! Hello Mr. Smolder! I didn't know what time to expect you. Please come right in!"

There was a sharp buzz and a click before the antiquated iron gate began to move. It seemed ponderous and antediluvian, but it was likely an effective barrier between the house and the outside world. It had to be pretty darn effective in keeping people out.

Or keeping people in.

The mansion was not overly large by modern standards, but it had been grand in its heyday. It was constructed a bit along the lines of an old European castle, complete with stone walls, catwalks and soaring towers. It gave off a generally timeworn and weathered appearance, as though it hadn't been properly cared for in a long time.

Fox smirked as he surveyed the outdated edifice.

"I guess you can't have archaic and keep it to!"

Sully groaned at his pun.

There were already a few vehicles parked near the entrance, including one for a regional architectural firm. Fox surmised that the new ownership of the estate was seeking to bring it back up to its former glory. Old buildings tended to develop any number of problems over the passage of time, and this place probably had its fair share.

There was also a catering truck. Someone seemed to be willing to celebrate their new home a little prematurely. In Fox's opinion they might want to wait until after the place was restored. If the interior was as dated and woebegone as the outside, it was hardly fit for a party. Maybe a horror movie, but not a party.

He parked the car in an open spot and got out, actually opening the door for Sully. About the same time the door to the mansion creaked open, revealing a dapperly dressed puma, his clothing all in subtle tones of tan and brown to match his hide.

"Good day! Mr. Smolder I presume. And this is the friend you talked about, Ms. Dana Sully?"

Smolder stuck out his hand.

"Just call me Fox. Is everything as per our arrangement?"

"Yes yes. The sooner it is gone, the happier I will be."

He held out a paw to Dana.

"Mr. Thomas Cucuarana. My family has lived here in the valley a very long time."

"Glad to meet you," she said, trying to hide her ignorance of the whole situation.

As their host turned back towards the house, she tapped her partner on the shoulder.

"Fox?"

"Not right now dah-ling. We'll talk inside."

She was about to take umbrage at his candor when it dawned on her that there was more to this investigation than he was letting onto. She figured she'd play along with him until she was able to squeeze the information out of him.

"Sure thing darling."

They stepped out of the sunshine and into a vaudevillian nightmare. Sully commented on it right away.

"So all of this stuff was once Crowe's? I guess not as much of it was sold as I was led to believe."

The puma made a flourish with his arms. "Much of it was, but that was only the things left in his studios. His personal estate was declared exempt for the financial burdens he left to his progeny from various lawsuits over some of his movies."

"So someone has been living here the rest of the time? That's like eighty years."

"Yes. Phileas had a daughter. She despised her father and his legacy ; some say it was hard to differentiate between the two. But he left her plenty of money, and the house and the surrounding property, which is where she stayed until her passing. She shunned the public, for most who came to her only wanted to know more about the father she so hated. She became a recluse."

Fox piped in. "Yep. The old bird - sorry, no offense meant - died over a year ago. The estate has been hung up in the courts since then."

The puma looked nonplused. "I don't know how you know that. But we at the society have gone to great lengths to claim this place, and the deal is in the final stages."

"Never mind how I know things Thomas. As to the reason for my visit; is the room still intact?"

"Of course it is. I personally saw to closing it back up once we determined what it held. I assume you will fulfill your part of the bargain and have it cleared out soon?"

"I'll let you know a timeline once I see the contents for myself."

They were led down to the basement, which in itself was filled with dirty, dusty, cobwebby, sheet-covered items of an unknown nature. Inset into one wall was a large steel door, much like one might expect to find on a safe.

Their host smiled thinly as he grabbed the handle. He spun it and it simply kept rotating as if it had not real purpose.

Fox made a sour face.

"It isn't suddenly broken is it?"

"Have patience Mr. Smolder. This isn't a typical sort of door."

After a moment the handle seemed to get tied up, for it stopped and wouldn't move any father. The puma walked a few steps and opened a panel which held within it what appeared to be a water valve for a fire sprinkler system. A few turns of this and he moved to a similar panel on the other side.

Only then would the door open.

"You see, this system is extremely effective for deterring entry. If not for the instructions left in the last will and testament of Crowe's daughter, we might have had to destroy the wall to gain entry."

He reached through the narrow opening and felt around until his fingers found the light switch. A sudden brilliance shown from within.

"The room still has its original light bulbs. I must say they are superior to the junk they make now."

He pushed the door open to reveal the contents within. Fox somewhat rudely pushed past him and into the well-lit interior. It was much like the rest of the house, being a bit dank and dusty, but the room itself seemed well equipped for keeping out ruining moisture and mildew.

Fox stuck out his paw. "This is just as you described it Mr. Cucuarana. Can you give us a few hours to do a perfunctory cataloging of this material?"

"Yes, yes, most certainly. If you happen to need anything please let me know. There is so much to do and I simply don't have enough time to accomplish it all."

"I can sympathize with your predicament. Before you go, might I ask why you have a catering service here?"

"I thought I told you. We're having a fundraiser tomorrow evening. The society is raising more funds to allow us to continue working on this fine old estate."

"Good luck with that then."

"Thank you. Your contribution would allow you and your friend a place at the table if you like."

"Maybe we will. I'll let you know later."

"Good enough."

With that the puma withdrew and was gone.

"Contribution? OK Smolder, spill it."

"Spill what?" he replied with a smirk.

"What the hell is going on here?"

He made a sweeping gesture.

"I'm the owner of all of this."

"What? How?"

He looked abashed. "I have an account I can dip into whenever I need it."

"I'm not an appraiser by any means but I know this stuff is worth a small fortune."

"Around $500,000, more or less."

"How the hell did you swing that kind of cash?"

"Dana, Dana, Dana. The bureau used to have accounts set up during the Cold War to wire money to agents around the globe."

"So?"

"Such things tend to get forgotten. I happened to chance upon some old checkbooks in a bureau vault and on a lark I investigated them. It turned out they still had money in them."

"You stole from the agency?"

"Sully! I took a cue from Congress and merely appropriated it. Since the accounts were secret there wasn't a scrap of paperwork anywhere in the Accounting Office on them. I pledged to myself that I would only use the money for official investigations."

"How much is there?"

"I can't tell you that. Plausible deniability and all that. The less you know about them the better off you'll be in the long run."

"So that explains the Mercedes?"

"Yes it does. I couldn't show up here pretending to be a big time collector without acting the part. This is Hollywood after all. I don't have to be good; I just need to look good."

She shook her head and replied a bit tartly;

"Yes and you do look good baby. Shall we start sorting through all of this stuff?"

"We had better get started. This will likely take a few days."

He pulled open a small mahogany chest. The dust free top indicated it was one of the ones that had been opened before. The interior seemed to be lined with corrugated cardboard. This was an illusion, for Fox carefully plucked one of the ridges upwards and removed it. It turned out to be a vintage cabinet card. He held it to the light and whistled.

"Who is it of?" asked Dana.

He turned it towards her, his grin huge.

The image was in the sepia tones associated with these old vintage photographs. The background was a large oriental rug hung up by hooks from the ceiling, with a fainting couch in front of it. Reclining on it was Famed Actress Heady Lemur.

Dana whistled too.

"Damn she's good looking! I never knew her to have done any nudes."

"She didn't. Well, let me rephrase that. None are known until now and there's no guarantee they were done willingly."

"She doesn't look too imposed upon in this shot."

"No," he agreed. And neither does the subject of this one, or this one, or this one," he said as he pulled out more.

He handed over three more.

"Why this is Louise Beavers, Piggy Allenby, and Dorothy St Bernard!"

He pulled out another one and stared hard at it before letting out another low whistle and a curse.

"Well shit!"

"What?"

He didn't hand this one over, but merely turned it so that she could see it. The female shown in pose was cute, had dimples and a head covered in thick curly hair.

"Is that Squirrely Stemple?!"

"It is, and at her age too. I wonder how the hell he managed it?"

Dana shook her head. "How did he manage any of this? They are all famous actresses with good careers. They could have been blacklisted had news of these photographs been leaked out to the press."

"I assume that these were all for Crowe's personal use. Not a single duplicate of any of them has ever surfaced over the years. He did a damn good job keeping them locked away."

"And you intend to keep it that way?"

"I do. I don't think the world wants to know that their old silver screen icons ever posed nude. It'll tarnished the era as a whole I think. And all it takes is a single posting on the internet and the pics would never be retrievable again. I think they need to remain hidden a little while longer."

"Smolder has a heart?"

"Sully, you know I do. I have a strong moral fiber. Just because my morals don't mesh with the mainstream does make then any less real. I find this stuff to be aesthetically pleasing, as well as highly intriguing. I don't think less of those in the images now than I did before. And yet, my curiosity is still piqued as to why they would have posed au natural."

"And you bought all of this sight unseen?"

"Not precisely. Without going into details, I have a discrete set of finders who keep an eye out for the weird stuff. This one almost slipped below the radar before I found out about it. Thankfully it didn't. The new owners of this place were troubled by the contents of the room and had no wish to be associated with it, and yet they felt the material should be preserved. I think the word they used to describe it was controversial."

"I can see why. Someone could make a fortune off of this stuff!"

"And ruin a whole lot of reputations in the process."

"So what's in it for you?"

"I get to keep all of this! And I get to enjoy the photographs at my leisure. And maybe I'll solve the riddle as to how Crowe managed this seemingly impossible feat. It's highly unusual to have a collection as exclusive as this, depicting the biggest actresses of their day, wearing as little as they happen to be wearing."

She nodded in agreement.

"Yes, I can agree with the latter idea," as she plucked the photo from his fingers, "though even this could get you in trouble even under today's laws. I'm not sure this is worth jail time."

He carefully took the photo back.

"This image has historical value. I'll not see it destroyed because someone else is on a moral high fueled by mindless prudery. "

"If anyone ever finds out about this, just make sure it's on your head and not mine. I don't want to have any part of this collection. And for the record, I advise against keeping it."

"Noted," he said distractedly. " Just think who else might be in here! This collection extends to around another dozen cases, just waiting to be opened."

"Then I would suggest that they are a project for another time. We came here for a reason, and therefore I feel we should concentrate on that."

"Good idea! We need to figure out just how this device works and how many components comprise the whole."

"I don't suppose there's a user's guide somewhere?"

"I wish it were that easy. Thomas didn't mention finding anything along those lines, but then he didn't dig too far into Crowe's debauchery. His group is trying to save the better portion of his career, and this stuff would just reinforce what people tend to remember about him."

"But if there were purportedly other machines, then wouldn't there have been something to tell the purchaser how to operate it?"

"True. Crowe obviously knew how to work it front to back. But you're right, an instruction book would come in handy right about now."

The main component of Crowe's device was rather plain looking, if odd. It was a wide, flattish drum made of brass that sat atop an adjustable tripod. The sides of it were perforated at regular intervals with small circular windows, each of which seemed to have a lens inside. It was unusual too in the fact that it had an old, cloth-wrapped cord, meaning the thing worked on electricity, not manually. It also had ports underneath that looked like they could be plugged into.

Fox pointed out these unusual features.

"This is highly unusual. See this camera over here? See this plug? I'll bet it connects right here. Normally a cameraman would operate it, but this camera also has a built in motor. Kind of bulky, but it must have allowed the camera to work itself. It looks like it's a modified Kinetograph, but how they managed to do the modification is beyond me.

"Fox, that's ridiculous! That kind of technology is fairly modern."

"I can't say just yet, but the evidence is right before us. See, it looks like it can pivot up and down, and turn just about one hundred and eighty degrees."

"I'm not sure I believe that."

"There'll be no way of knowing until we get this stuff set up."

"A true test of its abilities would tend to convince me. Still, you've made no mention of what drives this setup. It has to have some sort of operating system for it to work. And we both know computers weren't around back then."

"Well, either Crowe or someone else directed it, or it has some inner workings that drive it. There is a hole on top where something else can get plugged into it."

"I see. And what would that be precisely?"

"I haven't a clue."

"And what about the photographs? This is a movie camera and those are posed stills. You know that the subject has to hold still for a bit so they weren't blurry."

"I'm working on that. Why, do you have an opinion?"

"Yes, coercion. Blackmail."

"I don't think so" said Fox tiredly. "It has to be this machine. Anything unsavory would have shown up in their faces."

Dana was growing a bit frustrated with all of this guesswork.

"Do you have a hypothesis?"

"Not really. On a one to one basis, such as the photographs, I might say he paid them exorbitant sums. But I doubt that would be the case in his films. There's something we're not seeing."

Dana shook her head in agreement.

"So let's get this thing set up and powered up and try to get it to work."

Fox looked around them.

"No room down here. I say we take it upstairs. Thomas said something about a dinner. I'll just bet the dining room here is large enough to set this up."

"I don't think he'll appreciate that."

"Oh, I don't think he'll mind. We'll call it a demonstration for the other guests. It'll be a dinner and a show!"

Dana frowned slightly.

"I don't think he really wants all this stuff made public, and neither do you."

"It'll just be the old equipment. What harm can come of that?"

"Well, for one, I'll just bet there'll be a few big names in the crowd. Hollywood types like to stick their noses into everything, and this is just such a thing they'd stick them into. If they read that nameplate, there'll be a ton of questions, and none of them will likely be ones you want to answer."

He went to make a gesture of emotional hurt when he bumped a bookcase. From the top fluttered down a small, black leather bound book. He picked it up and wiped the decades of dust from it. The black leather was embossed with gold letters. He held it up.

P.P. Crowe .

Inside was a treasure trove of names, dates and in the very back, a schematic for setting up his device.

Fox was immediately distracted from the task at hand by all of the names in the book. He instinctively knew that the dates corresponded with the photographs in the collection. It was almost as if the various actresses had been given casting calls, and then, inexplicably, had nude photos taken. How he managed to get them undressed was beyond Fox's ken.

He recalled what he was doing and returned to the scribbled notes on the machine. There was an extremely crude drawing showing how the pieces came together, but it was more than they had before. Now all that remained was to put it together and see if it still retained any functionality after all of these years.

They carried the various pieces; cameras, lighting and the pornograph itself up to the first floor. That took the better part of three hours, considering the weight of some of it. They were nearly complete when the puma came in on them, his face bearing a frown of dismay.

"Mr. Smolder! What are you doing?"

"Ah Thomas. This device is of the utmost importance to me. I wish to see if it still works and if it does, how it works. As far as I see it, your guests will be the recipients of a demonstration of vintage equipment once thought destroyed and from an age when movie making was just getting off the ground. This is nothing more than cinematographic equipment, in of itself harmless and not in any way depicting anything sexual, unlike those photographs. I think your guests will appreciate this stuff, even if it ends up doing nothing of interest."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you're right. But please don't tell them its name. I just know it'll scandalize some of them and we're hoping to get some hefty donations out the party. These are very respectable patrons."

"And I'm not?" ask Fox in mock outrage.

"I meant no insult sir. Just please be careful is all I ask."

"Trust me. I have a feeling this old paraphernalia will be the highlight of the evening."

When the puma had left the room, Dana asked him point blank;

"You have no idea what this thing does. How can you give a demonstration when you're clueless as to how it works?"

"We need to go back downstairs. There's something still missing yet from the workings and I intend to find out what it is."

"How do you know something's missing?"

He started by pointing to an open portal on the main machine.

"Something obviously goes into there."

He held up the little black book.

"The directions..."

"Come again?"

"Apparently Crowe had some method for directing the actions of the Pornograph."

"Like a computer? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"You said it. But it this thing is all self-contained, he must have come up with something to make it work. Whatever we're looking for is going to fit into a hole at least two inches across."

"Where have I heard that before?" she said with a bit of bite in her voice.

"Ha ha. Are you trying to burn me? Sully's feeling spunky."

"I'm beginning to get a little tired Smolder. Let's find this object you're looking for and call it a day. I want a shower to get rid of all this dust and have a meal and lay in a nice bed. That is assuming you actually booked us a hotel."

"Heavens no! Part of the deal with Thomas was to have one of the old guest bedrooms made available to us. Where else would you find this kind of ambience?"

"I don't know. Maybe a Ripley's Believe it or Not museum?"

"You might have something there Dana," he replied drolly. "Oh come on! This will be great! You'll be staying in a silent movie era mansion with the original contents preserved intact. What more could you ask for?"

"Clean sheets and a hot bath for starters."

"Thomas doesn't look the sort to do with second-best. Why don't you go find him and have him show you to our boudoir? I'll follow along after I dig around a little deeper into my stash. There has to be something else down there that fits into this machine.

"You go right ahead. I'm done for the day."

The bedroom was mildly surprising. While it did smell a tad on the musty side, it was obvious that great effort had gone into cleaning and preparing it for guests. The bed (and she noticed there was only one) was covered in fine Egyptian cotton sheets and topped with brand new pillows.

The red roses in the exquisite vase were as fresh as could be, and the expensive bottle of Bollinger RD on ice spoke volumes. Fox was playing up his role to the max, and she for one was willing to go along with it for now. It wasn't often she got to indulge to this degree.

Dana did a quick examination of the room, finding the doorway to the bathroom. She opened it up onto an Art Deco dream. There wasn't a square inch of it not done up in tile, and the windows were a stained glass kaleidoscope. The shower, such as it was, was comprised of a chromed showerhead positions directly above the tub, which in itself was set into the floor and could hold more than one person at a time.

By the time Fox made it to the room an hour later, he found her lounging in the tub, rose petals floating on the surface and a nearly empty bottle of champagne sitting on the floor within an arm's reach.

"So. Does this mean you found the accommodations to your liking?"

She was feeling as bubbly as her beverage.

"You know Smolder, now that I know you have access to obscure bureau funds, I think we should do this more often."

"I'm sure you do. How drunk are you?"

"Well, I'm naked in the tub and I haven't told you to get out yet."

"Yes, but I've seen you naked before."

"True. Like a lot of my life, privacy is just something else that has gone by the wayside around you. Like so many much of it, it's a thing of the past."

He grinned lasciviously.

"Speaking of things from the past, I found what I was looking for."

She shifted in the water, sitting up a little more.

"Another device?"

"Yes and no."

He held up a long brass tube of a proper diameter to fit into the opening on the device. Dana giggled.

"Looks like a dildo fit to have been used as a prop on the set of _Metropoli_s."

Fox looked stunned.

"My little heart be still! A vintage movie reference?"

"I took some electives when I was in college. I learned a few things."

"I'm proud of you! But this isn't what it looks like to you. This is some sort of a driver for Crowe's machine. And curiously enough, it's numbered."

"And that means what?"

"I can't say for certain just yet, but there are over thirty of them down there, stashed in a box. One of them was broken and in pieces. It seemed to have been filled with these," he said, holding up a silver-dollar sized metal disc.

Dana squinted at it. It was perfectly round, but smooth on both sides. It was however punctured with numerous small holes.

"That reminds me of those old music box disks they made back in the Victorian Era."

Fox looked startled.

"Now that you mention it does, only in miniature. I can't see where playing music for a silent film would have been useful, but I guess you never know."

"You're right, but a few of those actresses made their appearance later on. So there's likely a longer period of time that device was used, assuming it had anything to do with them."

"It's food for thought. And speaking of food, I'm getting hungry. I guess I should get cleaned up and order something from the kitchen. I don't suppose there's room in the tub for two?"

"Sorry Fox. There's only room for one asshole in this tub, and that's mine."

She fingered herself provocatively and sank below the surface, blowing bubbles out at him as she did.

The next morning the two had their breakfast served in their room, complete with a pitcher of mimosas.

He was interested in sorting through his collection a bit more, and Dana was obliged to follow him despite the fresh pitcher that had been brought up. She found this case to be interesting to be sure, but maybe not as much as he did. She could just as easily appreciate a finely formed female body, but his interest was obviously much more sexual than her own.

He was directing part of his immense curiosity towards the little book they had found. It had names of others besides actresses, including flappers, socialites, and even a few famous dancers and stage actresses from the East Coast. Apparently this matter ran deeper than they first suspected.

Still there would be time for that later. Right now he was trying to figure out the machine amongst all of these other, pleasant distractions. Somehow this long brass pipe, very reminiscent of the old tubes they used to sell cigars in, was somehow the key to the entire thing. But the role it and the great machine played in Crowe's infamous porno flicks was still as elusive as ever.

But the index he found that went with the tubes provided only a little enlightenment. It was a moldering slip of paper in the bottom of the box with numbers and titles. One of them was simply marked Stills. A few of them carried names that were familiar but one of those did manage to stand out.

A Summer's Sensual Interlude.

It was one of the few of Crowe's raunchier works to have survived to modern times. By modern standard's it wasn't all that bad, but it was pretty intense with the amount of actors and actresses playing roles in it. There were no close-ups, so any of the really x-rated material in it is rather limited, but it was obvious what was going on. It was in fact the first true orgy ever captured on film. If not for the fact that a larger number of copies of it had been printed, it's doubtful even this visual feast would have survived the purge by the prudish.

So these brass tubes, whatever they were, had been somehow involved in cinematographic history. True, it was the bluer side of the film industry but when one looked upon the industry as a whole, then any technological advances were something important, even if the films that came out of them weren't necessarily highbrow.

Now it was a matter of finding out how Crowe's machine worked.

Perhaps at tonight's dinner, if all went well, the machine would reveal its secrets.

The dining room, as they already knew, was enormous. Seating had been set up for a hundred, including spots for Fox and Dana. The Pornograph was set up in one corner near the front, where it was visible to all who entered. It became apparent that tonight's roster wasn't just relative unknowns. There were some big names walking through the front door, and they all seemed drawn to the ancient contraption set up as the centerpiece of the room.

Dana wasn't all that much into being thrust into the limelight, but Fox adored it. As stars came up to investigate, he was right there shaking paws and giving them as much detail on the machinery as he could....without mentioning its name or its likely purpose. Curiosity drew many of them to the front corner, and he was quick to give appreciative notice to more than a few of them. He had to deflect most of their questions, promising a full demonstration after the evening's meal. His eyes however assessed them all, and he found a few idle fantasies coming to mind over a few of them.

Dana was well versed in modern cinema and television, as much as anyone could be. To be surrounded by so many famous names was almost too much to bear. Among those that she was bumping elbows with were Cheryl Crowe (no relation to the director however), Robin Leech, Jay Leno, Dan Quail to just name a few of the fellow avian celebrities who were here to honor the memory of the famed and notorious director.

Fox and Dana were seated right in the middle of everyone else, just like they were equals to the company. They were rubbing elbows and having conversations with more rich and famous people than most people could even dream of. Fox absorbed it all, but Dana felt a little like a poser. She knew very well that they didn't fit into this crowd, and she hoped to high heavens that news of this never made it to the Bureau chief. She certainly had no business hobnobbing with Hollywood's elite, but here she was, stuck for it while her partner basked in it.

Then she remembered something her mother had once told her, when she had to give a speech back in her college days. She would get sick to her stomach when facing a crowd until she took this advice to heart.

"Dana dear, just imagine everyone without their clothes on and you'll end up feeling a lot better."

She didn't know if she felt better, seeing as she was surrounded by some of the hottest bodies in the business. Hers wasn't bad, but then she wasn't being paid to parade around on film either. And here and there in the crowd were a few males that were enough to make her heart skip a beat. Seeing them on the flat screen was one thing, but seeing them in person was another. Still, her mom's advice did help calm her nerves and she was soon enjoying herself immensely.

Though once in a while she did let her imagination run away from her - one might say gallop even.

The meal was excellent and the conversation was a combination of eclectic and eccentric, as befitted the mixed company. Despite her anonymity, or perhaps because of it, Dana was allowed into discussions of a private nature, most of which she listened to quietly and forbore making remarks on. She often just nodded and continued to listen in a discreet manner. Fox on the other hand was as animated as if he had just tested a sample of coke by snorting it. His limbs were a blur, almost as fast as his mouth as he kidded and joked with some of the most famous folks in show business. It helped that he had a strong knowledge of the industry in general and thus able to hold his own with just about anyone there.

Eventually their host stood and made a toast. Fresh bottles of champagne were brought to the tables and glasses were filled to the rim.

"My dear guests. Tonight we extol the combined legacies of Phileas P. Crowe, whose reputation will forever be remembered on multiple levels, some of those more vividly than others. And yet, it was he who pioneered so much of what we have today, so that it would be unthinkable not to try to remember him in a positive light."

He cleared his throat and continued.

"And to start off our dedication this evening is rarities collector Fox Smolder, who is here to, uh, demonstrate some of the equipment that was found secreted here at the estate. He was kind enough to donate a large sum and thus would like to have the opportunity of seeing if this device still is capable of functioning, He has waited until now to try it out, so whatever happens will be witnessed by all of you. I must admit I too am curious how it will turn out. It isn't every day you have the chance of watching vintage equipment brought back to life."

He cleared his voice nervously.

"And now, I present to you, Mr. Smolder."

Fox rose with the stage presence of one of the great silver screen icons. He stood in front of the device, made a sweeping gesture and a bow to the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen. My name is Fox Smolder. If you've never heard of me, then my publicist is doing his job well. I search for the outré and I collect the bizarre. I am attracted to all that is unusual and out of the ordinary. That is what has drawn me here tonight. I like to consider myself knowledgeable on matters arcane, and once in a while I can be coaxed out of hiding by the prospect of learning something new. In this case, it is this device. I thought it might make the evening more interesting if we discovered together just what this thing does, or did, if it no longer will function. We cannot expect too much from century old technology. But it is a device of Crowe's own design, and as such, deserves as much attention this evening as does his memory."

He paused for dramatic effect.

"What does it do? How does it work? I cannot say. What say we turn it on and see if it does anything whatsoever?"

There were murmurs of approval and light applause from the tables. Not one of them knew the name of the device or they might have been more hesitant in agreeing. To them, it was a shiny vintage bauble from a distant past that wasn't likely to be capable of doing anything other than sparking imaginations and a lively debate.

Fox indicated to Dana to come up with him. She felt uncomfortable being the focus of so much attention, but she obediently walked up to where he was. He didn't help her embarrassment at all when he declared her his "lovely assistant" and pulled her into his lap as he took a seat in the modified director's chair.

With a flourish that would have made the showman Barnum proud, he flipped the switch and waited expectantly.

There was a hum as the electricity surged through long unused wiring. The hum progressed to a whine as the cameras and their servos amped up. Fox felt a prickle in his nether regions as voltage passed through his chair, sending his fur out to stand on end. Even Dana felt the thrill of it.

The central portion of the unit came alive. The tube, the last piece to have been put into it, came to life with a whir and a series of high toned clicks. Whatever function it served, it was making its presence audibly known. Then the whole device quieted down to a low hum again.

The silence seemed to become drawn out, as if that was all there was going to be to it. However, they both jumped when the device spoke in a creaky, rough voice. It sounded much like what you'd expect from one of those old phonograph recordings.

"Quiet on the set!"

The voice could have only belonged to one person, and that fact alone got everyone talking. There was quite a stir because of that, setting the stars to wonder and talk amongst themselves.

Over the quiet hubbub the shrill voice of Crowe rang out again.

"Ready....and ACTION!"

The machine lit up like a miniature UFO, held in stasis by its support legs and all of the lines connecting it to the other components. The glow started in the violet range, slowly brightening to a blinding white. Without warning the central part, unfettered by any connections, began to rotate like a carousel. The light was then left flickering and flashing as the lens portals spun with an increasing rapid motion.

Fox and Dana were so intent on scrutinizing the device that they didn't even notice the dining room in general. They were under the assumption everyone was watching what they were watching. What they turned back to was a real eye opener.

Everyone was on their feet and in the process of disrobing. Clothing was soon littering the floor in neat little piles, or in some cases festooned across chairs and tables. Fox was eagerly eyeing several of the younger stars with unabashed interest, and Dana found herself staring at the body of former football player and present day television health fitness spokesman Gianni "Pal" Palomino.

In a moment everyone was stripped down to nothing but their birthday suits, and it was one hell of a sight. Fox pulled himself from his stupor brought on by the amazement of witnessing such a thing and went to speak to Dana. He noticed her slack-jawed appearance and followed her gaze to the handsome equine.

"Wow! He could run a three legged race all by his lonesome!"

Dana ignored the jibe, though it was the honest to god truth. He was hung like...well...a horse. That speckled hunk of equine machismo had a piebald cock that just didn't stop. Despite her fascination, she cleared her head long enough to point out what had to be the question of the day.

"What the hell does this machine DO? Is this really what it does?"

"Apparently. Hell, we don't have anything close to technology like this today!"

"A mass hypnosis machine?"

"As good a term as any I suppose. There has to be some sort of scientific principle behind it."

"But if it works like that, then we haven't we been affected?"

Smolder had to think on that.

"This chair! You felt the tingle? It must somehow protect whoever sits in it."

"Or whoever happens to be sitting in his lap at the time," she added drolly.

Fox was watching the crowd with unembarrassed interest. There was a lot to watch, for there was movement going on everywhere. The banquet had devolved into a chaotic orgy of epic proportions.

He looked at his partner, and she at him. They both were struck with the same thought and acting before their morals and their logic got the better of them, they dashed out into the crowd and mixed with the throng who were presently under the sway of Crowe's machine. They both could see an opportunity present itself like it never would again and dived into the writhing mass to partake of a few guilt pleasures before the effect wore off.

Fox was out of his clothing and pounced on the first of his choices, a sheepish little actress named Mary Lamb. Fox found her fleece was truly as white as snow, but that she likely had a hell of a time keeping up with the dark roots. His desire for her was a true kink, seeing as she was the hostess of a daytime kid's television show. She portrayed herself as a perfect little goody-goody, and he was determined to prove that she wasn't.

Even if under these circumstances his defilement was cheating.

He tapped her on the shoulder, distracting her from someone else. The look on her face and the blankness in her eyes told him she definitely wasn't with the here and now. However, there did seem to be a bit of fire deep down inside her, probably being driven somehow by Crowe's machine.

She did however actually had the presence of mind to speak.

"Why hello handsome," she bleated out unprofessionally.

"Hello yourself you tasty little chop. Care for a little action?"

"Little?" She bleated happily. "I'll knot believe that until I see it."

Dana on the other hand was a little more decorous in her approach. To her the situation was a little more than unnerving, so she dropped her panties but retained the rest of her apparel. She made a beeline for the former quarter-horse-back, pulled the pouty-lipped fashion designer Claudia Collie from where she had been and took over her spot. Dana was aware that the publicity-minded canine had a big mouth, but she hadn't realized it was that big.

Pal hardly noticed for the moment, so Dana stretched her jaw a few times to limber up before tackling the football legend. It took two hands to handle his whopper, and she knew she was going to pay for it in the morning once she entered the game with this stallion.

Fox found his present sexual partner, willing or otherwise, was as pliable and compliant as could be. He knew it had more to do with the machine more than just her quiet, ovine nature. But since she was doing things as she was told, he told her to do things that would have embarrassed her to no ends in real life.

It was almost too easy.

He tossed her up on the table, legs dangling over the edge and nailed her with one solid thrust. She let out a bleat as his cock sank deep into her, but otherwise held rock steady. Fox's initial compliment to her was well founded; she was one juicy little chop! She just needed a little tenderizing!

He knew he was succumbing to his perverted side but was tempted to blame part of his actions on the machine. His interest in her was largely that she was portrayed such a soft, innocent, cute and cuddly character on her television show. Having sex with her was like making out with your stuffed teddy bear, only in this case the bear was well appointed in all the right places - if you know what I mean.

Dana was going to town on her horse cock, though even her best attempts at deep-throating him were barely enough to get halfway down on it. She felt disappointed that she couldn't manage better, but she was hardly designed for the likes of him. Had it not been for earlier experiences, she might never have considered this, But she knew it was a once in a lifetime opportunity and she was going to try and take advantage of it as much as she could. It was satisfying on one level, but not on the level she wanted. She pulled off, stood up and stared him in the face.

"Pick me up!"

He did, but that was all he did.

"Now fuck me!"

That he understood. Dana's eyes rolled back in her head as that enormous cock tried its best to split her wide open.

Fox had his little woolly lady by both legs; stomach down, still plastered across the dining table. He was switching back and forth between her holes, making her utter noises the she would have been horrified by had she not been under a trance. He was delighting in making her squeal, and the more he did it, the hornier it made him. There was only so long he was going to last, but he was trying his damnedest to keep from blowing prematurely.

When he was about to cum, he slammed it back into her ass, told her to bleat until he told her to stop, and poured the contents of his balls so deep into her ass it would take days before it all found its way back out again.

He pulled out and left her there, shaking like a leaf and bleating like the freshly skewered lamb that she was.

Dana was riding horseback...no...that would be horsefront. It was a lot more stimulating than merely taking a ride on his shoulders, though that would probably have been fun too. She knew that only half of him was capable of fitting into her, and she could only vaguely imagine what having the rest of that monstrosity inside her would have been like. There were times when being a smaller species came as a disadvantage.

He was pile driving her like there was no tomorrow and at this rate she was going to hate to wake up come sunrise. The ache that this was going to leave wasn't going to disappear with just a few aspirin. Neither was the memory of riding one of the greatest football players ever.

She was going to hurt come morning, but for now, morning could wait. Pal was going strong and she was in no rush to hurry him along. He was going at a nice pace and as it was, when he did cut loose, there was going to be hell to pay. No point in not delighting in the part that was at least partially enjoyable.

She chuckled to herself, ahead of the impending orgasm. Equines were a lot like beer.

They both tended to cum in pints.

Smolder was searching through the crowd for another victim...errr...partner, finally espying the one he wanted. He disengaged her from another participant and dragged her to the side. She was super model Kitty Klum, an exotic looking Abyssinian with the most stunning...eyes...and other features that gave her top pay among her ranks. Fox figured he might as well strive for the top, knowing that once this was all over, she'd never give him the time of day, much less a piece of ass.

_ _ Fox pulled her to the floor, got on top and guided his cock in without ceremony. He had no idea how long the machine would continue to function, and he had dedicated a little too much time to fleecing his first choice. Despite his undo haste he nearly purred as he forced his cock into the tightest little hole in the room, proving that she didn't dally much with males...or toys...or anything. He smiled wickedly at the idea that she might have no sex drive, but she was hardly in a state of mind to ask that of her.

He didn't really care at the moment either. His drive was in overdrive.

She had the smallest breasts ever, almost boyish, as befitted these skinny little runway walkers. Her fur was soft and tawny, and overall her body screamed fashion chic.

He was about to add a few touches of his own to her though. Sadly, they would never see the light of day; much less make it to the cover of Fashion magazine.

Dana was orgasming and she wasn't sure if it was pleasurable or painful. Her hole was already stretched to the limit and now it was trying to rhythmically constrict around an object meant for a far larger creature than herself. That hunk of horsemeat was way too much, and she inexplicably felt a craving for more. She had to be out of her head right now!

Something was going to have to give; and soon.

It ended up being Pal. He suddenly had the urge to give her everything he had in his testicles, firing off a load that was sure to send her into the end zone.

Kitty was tearing into Smolder like a feral feline, riding him hard and holding no punches in her effort to gain some satisfaction. Her claws were out and the tips of them were embedded in his shoulders as her toenails dug into his legs. All that and she had no idea she was doing it.

He was mildly amazed at her strength, seeing as how every portion of her anatomy was easily defined as being twiggy. He had to guess that being a model involved more than just dieting. From her long sinuous limbs to her compact hips, right down to the narrow slit she dared define as a cunt; this gal was the ultimate in lanky loveliness. There was barely room in there for him, so when he knotted up finally, there was going to be hell to pay.

Despite the effects of the machine, this proved to be too much for her. Whether she was conscious of her actions or not, she screeched and howled and struggled to get loose. The problem was her actions were only turning him on more, and at this rate, he wasn't going to get loose from her for hours. He almost regretted his snap decision, but with a sharp blow, he cold-cocked and laid her out flat.

In the next instant he rolled their bodies over so that he was on top. It was going to be much easier for him to get off in the missionary position than with a limp body resting on top. He went to work, pounding away on her unconscious body, working it in a deeply as he could, looking towards the goal of blowing a nice hot one inside.

Or two.

Heck, why not three?

Dana was now lying on the floor in a pool of sticky white, some of which was still flowing out from between her legs. She was shaking violently, having been literally blown off of her perch by the force of his ejaculation. She was trying to get to her feet, but her legs were too weak and wobbly.

Riding a horse tended to do that to a gal.

She finally managed to roll over and get up on her knees, but that was about it. Her arms gave out, leaving her with her exposed ass stuck high up in the air.

She couldn't see who it belonged to, nor could she do anything about it, but a medium sized cock suddenly found its way into her back end.

She was simply gratified it didn't belong to Pal.

When she was finally able to turn and see who her present partner was, she found herself looking straight into the face of Marten Short. The comic actor was far from acting funny at the moment. Instead, he was deadly serious about what he was doing. His face was covered in sweat and he appeared rather intent on reaming her out and then some. She might have a few one liners to quip with after this day was over, but she doubted very much he was going to remember a thing.

She was content to let him go for now. While there wasn't much she could do to stop him, it was a nice change from having a log jammed inside her.

Fox was pegging the supermodel with as much aplomb and decorum as he had shown to Ms. Lamb. He would have much preferred to savor the experience, but under the circumstances, he felt he should hurry things long. He recalled that the old time movies weren't really all the long and he was feeling a little nervous about carrying on too much longer. He had maintained his wits about him, but what the hell was going to happen when everyone else regained theirs?

He took a cue from the old porno star Grafton de Hare and made like a bunny. He put his back into it, his hips into it and eventually he put his sperm into it - errr - into her. He collapsed panting on top of the model, his lungs pumping like a bellows.

He had to lay there and will his knot to subside, and when it finally did, he pulled out of Kitty with a resounding pop. Regaining his feet, he stood and surveyed the room. His intention was to find Dana in this den full of iniquity. He was constantly distracted by the sights, and had to fight down the urge to have another go. There were so many willing bodies right now he could never have chosen a third partner out of all of these offerings anyways.

When he finally found Dana, he stopped for a moment and stared. She was surrounded by a bevy of Hollywood's finest, and he almost hated to break her away from it all. But, his sense of duty superseding his voyeuristic nature, he waded in and hauled her out, and not without a few protests. She was limp enough that even lifting her under her armpits proved to be a chore. Once he was clear of the little knot that had surrounded her, he dropped her in a chair, where she barely was able to sit upright.

"What...are...you...doing?" she stammered out as he headed back for Crowe's machine.

"I think that maybe we're pressing our luck. I want to check out the machine and then have a seat back in the director's chair. Who knows what's going to happen when that thing comes to the end of its run."

He hastily got dressed, ran his fingers through his hair and tried to do the same for Sully. She was in far worse shape than he was, but there simply wasn't enough time to spruce her up to looking anything close to decent. The entire room was going to need a major overhaul, right down to those occupying it.

For the next several minutes the group continued to have one giant orgy, mindless of who they were interacting with. Over the hubbub of the room, the agents heard the deep hum of the machine as it geared up for something different. The tone rose to almost deafening levels and then a voice crackled out of it again.

"Cut! That's a wrap!"

Everyone stopped what they were doing. Whether they were engaged in oral, anal or vaginal sex (and a few other things that won't be discussed here) they all just sort of wound down, like windup toys come to the end of their tightened spring. They still looked and acted like they were stoned, but they still managed to begin the chore of finding their clothing and putting it back on. There was going to be a few difficulties, seeing as there was some interchanging with shirts and pants going on.

Fox chose then to kill the power on the machine and grab Sully by the wrist.

"What are you doing?"

"We're out of here! We're going to our room and that's where's we've been for a while now. With any luck they'll totally forget we were even here."

"You think they'll forget all of this just like that?!"

"I'm hoping so, or we're going to be in some really deep shit."

She thought it over. If news leaked out that two government agents were involved in sparking an orgy involving some of the biggest names in Hollywood, they could kiss their careers goodbye. She needed no further urging

Twenty minutes later their host nearly busted down the door as he burst into their room. His eyes were wild, and his attire was disheveled.

"My many pardons!"

Dana was in the tub and the door was open. He was too flustered to really notice and she was too worn out to care. It was a good thing however that she had washed heartily and drained the first batch of water, or there might have been more scrutinizing looks than just those at her anatomy.

"Again, my many pardons! Mr. Smolder, Ms. Sully. There has been something odd that has taken place in the dining room. I was assisting the other guest when I realized that you were missing. I thought something terrible had befallen you."

"Odd? And I missed out?

"Did you? I seem to remember vaguely that you came to the dinner."

"Oh we came. When the machine refused to function I grew bored and came back here. So what did I miss?"

The puma was flustered.

"I'm not sure. Everyone is in a state of disarray."

"How curious. And you think the machine somehow was responsible for this...disarray?"

"I can't say for certain."

Thomas was torn between staying and talking and returning to his high-end clientele.

Fox waved him off.

"If you figure it out, let me know. As far as I can tell, if it worked in the past, then there's a good chance it could still do so today. Too bad you can't tell me what happened."

"I wish I knew," he cried in dismay.

Fox had a clever thought.

"Are the guests complaining about it?"

"Strangely no. They seem much more open and gregarious than at the beginning of the evening. It's more like a class reunion than a horde of cutthroat celebrities. Most odd. They are feeling a little disoriented and a bit put out right now."

Fox grinned slyly.

"For some of them that might be true."

The puma was dancing from foot to foot in his eagerness to return to his other guests.

"What might be true?"

"Oh, the putting out part. I'm sure some of them have been really putting out."

Fox's words only confused the puma more, and in the end Thomas left them with an even great look of discombobulation on his face. Fox smirked as he closed the door behind him.

"So Sully? How do you think Crowe came up with a machine that does what that thing is capable of?"

"Technically it's impossible. If I hadn't just witnessed it for myself I'd call anyone describing that scene down there as to being a total liar."

"I can't wait to get it back to D.C. and tear it apart. That kind of technology could prove useful."

She rolled her eyes and smirked.

"To you, I'm sure it could."

She slowly changed her smirk to a smile as she ran the evening's events through her mind's eye.

"I did it with that big stud Pal."

Fox retorted back, "I did it with Mary Lamb."

"As in Little Lamb's Neighborhood?"

"The very one."

"Oh, tell me you didn't."

"That would make me a liar."

"I'll never see an advertisement on the TV for that show again without picturing you shagging away her dignity."

"Yeah? Well, I'll forever picture good ole Number 53, the great Palomino, scoring a touchdown with my lucky partner Dana."

She giggled.

"And let me tell you, he carries some over inflated balls when he plays."

"You can tell me all about it on the flight back home. Right now I think we need to move post haste and get this stuff the hell out of here before I come up with another brilliant plan. As it is, people are bound to be asking questions sooner than later and I don't think they'll like the answers."

Dana snorted. "Well, at least no one was in their right minds enough to click the video function on their cell phones."

Fox groaned. "Damn! I didn't even think of that!"

"Good. It's one less thing that won't get you into trouble."

It was several weeks later that Fox, inundated with all of the material he had purchased, just happened to open the film reel from one of the cameras before slamming it shut again. It was quite evident that it was loaded with film, and that the film had been taken from one reel to another. He only hoped that the brief exposure to the dim light of his workroom hadn't damaged it.

He spoke to the air, mostly to hear his own thought.

"It couldn't still have been good after all of these years...could it?"

He darkened the room and transferred the celluloid to a proper case before turning on the light. Then he paused, and considered opening it up and exposing the whole thing. But his heart just wouldn't let him do that.

"Maybe I'll borrow the photo lab one of these nights and see if it recorded anything."

It might make for an interesting night of viewing; just Fox, the film, some beer, some lotion and a whole big box of tissues.