Jenna Jameson and her undead coven of strippers rise from their graves, their once-lustrous hair now matted and their makeup smeared, yet their bodies remain irresistible. They dance, their movements jerky and uncoordinated, yet somehow erotic. Their eyes, milky and lifeless, seem to burn with an inner fire as they beckon their prey closer, their rotting flesh a testament to the forbidden delights they offer.