Raunchy bluesy guitar staggers under shots of buxom ladies felating chicken strips and pouring gasoline over their tight t-shirts.
Two of the girls brandish carpet knives at each other while the rest of the ladies growl: vrOOOM vrOOOOM vrOOOM.
A picture of Steven Stegall flashes on the screen almost inperceptively:
Two men sit back to back at separate tables of a fancy restaurant.
One of the men, a man with a large belt buckle and a ten gallon hat signals for the waiter.
Man: Bring me the meanest, most-low down, dog-beatin' barbecue sauce on the menu.
Waiter: Why certainly, sir.
The waiter returns and pours the sauce, careful to hold his hand over the bottom of the label.
The man behind him, a courtly looking aristocrat wearing a tuxedo and a glued on mustache, stops the waiter.
Man: Yes...fetch me the finest, most-exquisite, premium barbecue sauce on the menu.
Waiter: Why sir i have it right here.
The waiter shifts his hand to cover the top of the label and pours then walks away.
The 2 men each take a bite and exclaim in unison: This is delicicous!
The waiter in the back giggles slyly and reveals the bottle for the camera:
Over his shoulder, and out of focus, the 2 men are having sex discreetly on one of the tables.
Oh Chris Parnell, thank you for making SNL almost watchable.