I found the Rules of the Internets. They exist.
Can't tell you where because they watch.
BUT, one in particular caught my eye and made me.... research.
Internet Rule 34: If it exists, there is porn of it.
Experiment conducted. Conclusion: FACT.
Seriously. This is a DIY project of epic proportions which will probably leave you whimpering in the dark.
You have, been warned.
Only amongst degenerates do I thrive.
Total lie from Satan, sorry.
I love porn. Yes, that is where we are going today, aren't you glad you tuned in.
Porn is a really funny once you have seen too much of it, especially if the story doesn't flow right (and it rarely ever flows right unless you are watching amateur clips involving South American or German women) i.e. knock on the door, look its a cop who has come to investigate noise X, GASP, lady, please bend over, you are going to need to be frisked. Fondle fondle, dick, mouth, sigh, oh baby, money shot, next scene which also involves another knock on the door.
What I never understood is why they don't write the scenarios to be more realistic. It doesn't involve anymore time really and I think the female audience might enjoy watching with their partners a hell of a lot more, instead of bitching about its existence or critiquing bad boob and dye jobs (well, ok, THAT part IS kinda fun).
Well. Maybe. The reality in my head is always 75 degrees.
Rewrite of the scene:
Cops (2) knock on the door and yell that they have a warrant to search the premises. A woman answers after racing to throw something appropriate on, bra less of course because most of us are once we reach indoor areas. Once inside, they start telling the woman to be calm, and then start commenting on the disarray of the room, asking her to go ahead and offer up any information concerning possible hidden narcotics or weapons, lest she go to jail for concealing something from an officer of the law. Then they start casually searching the room for who knows what (cops need no reason, nor warrant anymore, but never you mind that, this is a porn blog post, not a political one, and its business time, so lets get back to business). Then they find... some paraphernalia (isn't it always some damn paraphernalia). They hassle her a bit, they tell her she's going to jail. She starts crying, saying she's scared, she'd do anything to stay out, please please please.....
A Judge, a stenographer, and two lawyers burst out of the adjacent room and everyone breaks into a choreographed Full Monty strip routine undressing the sobbing woman, singing some kind of show-tune about how "Mary's Case Would Only Serve To Clog Up the Legal System, ShaBa! Sexual Bribery Saves Our Tax Dollars for Better Education!"
Fondle fondle, dick, mouth, sigh, oh baby, money shot, next scene which involves the Landlord (who kinda looks like Mr. Roper), a bounced check and a operatic song sung by the Banker, while this sobbing, mascara smeared woman is violated in the background by the property owner now unzipped and harmonizing the chorus.
It's now 85 Degrees.