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Cattle and wander the wide-open countryside. Jagged boulders simmer beneath the sweltering Arizona sun. Burly cowpokes in skin-tight denim boink each other silly. Welcome to the world of To the Last Dude - a world of the rough and the rugged... more Yankee than apple pie... all bales of hay... and canyons... and unshaved 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 dangling my disbelief when there are more pressing matters at hand. Underneath its dusty-booted surface, is crammed with more hot fornicatin' than Fire Island's meat rack combined 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 awesome proportions. Let's embark with Part I: The Gathering Storm.