Remember that mock-up of a ropey old British sexploitation film David and his rotting corpse mate Jack were watching in the Eros Cinema in An American Werewolf in London? If so, then you'll remember the burly, tattooed chap with the iffy perm and the Zapata moustache who utters the immortal line "Not you, yer twit, 'er!". Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the memorably named Gypsy Dave Cooper, and he's one of the stars of this ultra-cheap offering that captures the twin delights of a stag night and a hen night, then slathers the unedifying spectacle with a load of migraine-inducing psychedelic video effects. Very obscure, and with good reason, although it was pretty heavily advertised back in the day.