To the Last Fellow The Gathering Storm

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Cattle and nags roam the wide-open countryside. Jagged boulders simmer underneath the sweltering Arizona sun. Burly cowpokes in skin-tight denim screw each other silly. Welcome to the world of To the Last Stud - a world of the tough and the rugged... more Yankee than apple pie... all bales of hay... and canyons... and furry tarantulas... and windmills... and guns a-blazin'... and scruffy beards... and... wait. Is that a nipple ring? I guess the verisimilitude had to end somewhere, but I am not above suspending my disbelief when there are more pressing matters at hand. Beneath its dusty-booted surface, TTLM is crammed with more sizzling fornicatin' than Fire Island's meat rack mixed with Southern Decadence, multiplied by Ft. Lauderdale. Brokeback it ain't, but the recipe here called for a dickjerker. And wank you shall, for this is an exquisitely-filmed, ambitious fuck-fest of impressive proportions. Let's begin with Part I: The Gathering Storm.