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The studio is crammed in the back corner of Tootsie's Cabaret, a sprawling strip club near the Miami-Dade/Broward County line. The walls are painted pitch-black. Leopard-print pillows cover two couches. Computers, microphones, Web cameras, and cables are strewn throughout the small room. Glass windows allow club visitors to watch the taping.
At 7:00 p.m. the lights go down. The speakers power up. A large, handsome man with gelled hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and a gold chain around his neck takes a seat behind a desk in the middle of the room and wraps headphones around his ears. A thin, dark-haired woman wearing tight-fitting jeans and a black top gets comfortable on the couch, moving the microphone closer to her mouth. A small sign illuminates: ON AIR. Music starts.
"Coming to you live from Miami, Florida, it's time for the bad boys of Internet radio," intones the sultry announcer on the couch, who's known as Nurse Lisa. "With your host Dr. Johnny and his sidekick Platypus, it's time for the Smut Doctors."
It happens this way every Monday night at 7:00, when the two reprobate strip-club disc jockeys, 35-year-old John "Dr. Johnny" Todora and 30-year-old Mike "Platypus" DeSuno, broadcast live over the Internet to a weekly audience that, according to the pair, numbers 20,000. For one hour they trade jokes and barbs and interview up-and-comers in the adult-film industry. This week Vivian West, an attractive, busty, five-foot-tall 23-year-old wearing a short gold skirt, glitter makeup, and black spike heels, is here to talk about her recent stint in front of the camera lens.
Dr. Johnny doesn't waste time. "So you just did your first film," he says.
"I've done three," Vivian answers.
"Guys or girls?"
"Guys," she replies. "I did two boy-on-girls and a four-way blow-bang."
"Way to get yourself eased into that industry," Platypus interjects. A former high school band geek wearing a black shirt, jeans, and small, round eyeglasses, the sidekick shakes his right foot anxiously as he awaits the opportunity for a calculated jab.
"So let's go to the four-way blow-bang," Johnny says, trying to keep the show on track. "It sounds like a new kind of chewing gum." He holds up his right hand and smiles broadly, as if advertising a product. "Four-way blow-bang -- now in strawberry!"
The room erupts in laughter. Platypus leans back, placing his hands behind his head, and bellows a rapid-fire chuckle into the microphone in front of him.
"Now, have you ever blown four guys at once?" Johnny asks.
"No, that was a first," Vivian responds.
"So, when you're doing this, obviously there's no practice," Johnny says. "You know where to start and obviously you know where to finish -- with a towel. But what happens in the middle ... for the people at home who want to blow four guys at once in a blow-bang?"
Leaning back on the leopard-print pillows, Vivian stares intently at Johnny as if she were the target of a probing interview on 60 Minutes. "You just have to keep your energy up and go from one to the other to the other," she answers with a straight face. "It was really funny -- I was wearing this really pretty pin-stripe little teddy. My hair was all up, Farrah Fawcett curly. I had all this pretty pink makeup, and all of a sudden there were four penises coming at my face, and the next thing you know, my lipstick is all smudged."
"That'll happen," Johnny says matter-of-factly.
But it gets worse, as Johnny soon points out. Vivian wasn't filming prude-as-your-papa's porn. She'd signed a contract to participate in the extreme fetish series, Suck It Up.
"The guys came in this little dish on my tits, and I had to suck it with a straw," Vivian says, angling her blond head toward the microphone.
"Honestly, you seem like a very intelligent individual when I talk to you," Johnny says. "I mean, you're a lunatic, I'm sure. But you seem to have a good head on your shoulders."
"Oh, completely, I'm an intellect-chewal," she says, stumbling over the word.
Johnny continues his verbal assault. "When someone says to you: 'Listen, I'm going to jerk off in a glass, and you're going to suck it up with a straw,' at any point do you go, 'Eww!'"
"Yeah, it was pretty nasty, to be honest with you," she replies. "There was a pretty nasty taste in my mouth for a long time."
"That'll do it," Johnny says. "The bowl was probably dirty."
"The weirdest part was, it all tasted different, from one guy to the next."
Johnny's face contorts, as if he'd just put something tart into his mouth. "I'm going to have to trust you," he says.
"Guess that jiz!" Platypus interjects again.
"Kevin!" Johnny jokingly speculates about the name of one of the blow-bang participants.
"Billy!" Platypus follows.
"Were you burping up sperm?" Dr. Johnny then asks Vivian.
"Yeah, yeah, I was," she answers without hesitation.
Johnny leans back, pleased with himself. "Who else can ask that question?"
Not many people. At least not on the air.
Since pop princess Janet Jackson revealed her right breast to the nation Super Bowl Sunday 2004, the Federal Communications Commission has been cracking down on shock jocks with unprecedented zeal, leveling several six-figure fines and threatening more. Last month U.S. Rep. James Sensenbrenner, Jr., a Wisconsin Republican who heads the House Judiciary Committee, told media executives he would even support legislation that would jail indecent DJs.