“I got into porn by accident.”

One of the cameras has been set up to the side, getting John in a low angle shot that hides the left side of his face.

Janine laughs off camera. “No, I really did!” The camera shifts to frame them both from the front, sitting in director style chairs. “One good friend of mine was studying cinematography and..”

“Filming herself having sex with her friends doesn't count as studying cinematography, John.” She bit her lip and poked his shoulder with her arm, a stump that stopped not far above the elbow.

“I know it sounds silly but she did, really!”

Halfway through his sentence, it cuts to the blurry footage of a darkened bedroom. The background looks and smells like a dorm room, even through the screen. Messy, unkempt, greasy. Two shapes are grinding against one another on what can barely be distinguished as a bed.

“But yes she's right, it all started with ummm…” He joins his hands and leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Crude videos of us having sex. Why the first couple ones went so popular online is another story in and of itself.”

“Luck.” Janine coughs the word and it's John's turn to shoulder her.

“Probably luck, yes.”

She brings her right arm to the side of her face : “Most definitely luck.” She winks.

“Then, everything kind of just fell into place.” Exaggerated graphs and numbers piling up fill the screen as we still hear John's voice over it all. “We made good money, and we filmed more videos with more budget. After she graduated, she created her own studio, started hiring more and more people. And that's where Janine comes in.”

The graphs explode in a comical manner to reveal Janine's first headshot. Cute as a button, her straight hair and bangs framed her face like a picture on the wall. Taken from the chest up, we can't see much else of anything. Then the second one rotates in with a clicking sound like an old projector. On all fours, she looks up at the camera with sensuality, as if trying to cast a spell at the lens. What's most surprising isn't the size of her rack, or the steel abdominal muscles that are visible even through the low light of the shot.

It is her lack of limbs.

The camera switches back to the interviewees and briefly focuses on her thighs. Short and round, they bud out of her hips like a botched job, sporting neither scar nor toes. She waddles on her seat as the narration continues, perhaps to dissipate some of the nervousness of the interview. If at first they seem to expand, like water balloons taking back their shape after being squished, they sag and stretch under her modest weight as she sits back on them. John places a loving hand on her right and his fingers dent her flesh.

“I was a friend of a friend of a friend, if you can say that. I was failing at school and unemployable, as you can probably guess.” It cuts to a slideshow of Janine in her early twenties, dressed modestly, yet hiding an incredible physique. “I met with Donna and asked if I could help her with phone calls, or.. or paperwork, these kinds of very limited things, you know. So I sort of became her assistant, in a way. Calling potential investors or talents she wanted to recruit.” Another set of pictures, this time in an office setting, Janine sitting on the floor in front of a low desk, her stumps against the fake wooden surface. “It was a win-win situation, because I had a good salary and I could save on my caretaker fees since Donna would help me out during the work day. After a few weeks of seeing my ass everyday, Donna mentioned the idea of filming something, based on the…” She giggles and joins her arms before her. “You say it John.”

“Based on the fact that you're a living fuck toy?”

“John!!” Face and ears turn tomato red, but her smile tells another story. “But yes he's right, that's exactly what she said.”