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FUCKING DAY

Fucking Day: Running Delilah 🌭

We all remember Running Delilah, the 1993 direct-to-video science fiction masterpiece starring Kim Cattrall and Billy Zane. Often we start these articles by recapping a work of art before delving into our authoritative critique of it, just in case the reader isn’t familiar with the subject matter. But this is Billy Zane we’re talking about here. Of course you’ve seen it. I know he’s not the star of Running Delilah, but much like Bill Paxton, everything Billy Zane is in is a Billy Zane vehicle.

Maybe it’s been a while since you’ve seen it though. A little primer: Running Delilah features Kim Cattrall as a fuckable RoboCop-

A slightly more fuckable RoboCop.

She’s a secret agent who dies in service of her country, so just like in reality, the American military parades her corpse around for political purposes.

Delilah is rebuilt using almost entirely robotic parts, yet she looks exactly like Kim Cattrall with no changes. I guess she has a new shirt. Why didn’t RoboCop think of that? Peter Weller sweated out six years of his life stomping around in that suit – what if he just wore a cardigan that said “RoboCop”? It would’ve saved him a lot of hassle and today I would own a kickass cardigan.

Billy Zane plays Paul, no last name, because Running Delilah knew we’d just call him Billy Zane. Why would we call him anything else, when he’s already called the best thing? Billy “Paul” Zane is Delilah’s lover, who forces scientists to bring her back from the dead and give her superpowers. It’s RoboCop if Dick Jones and RoboCop were married. It’s Frankenstein if Dr. Frankenstein and his monster fucked it out at the end.

Plus the movie is directed by Richard Franklin, the guy who made Link. So you know it’s gonna be sexy.

Delilah uses her cool new cyber-powers to execute a bitchin’ gymnastics routine-

And to execute a plane.

But you know this! You heard this movie had Billy Zane playing a slightly more fuckable Billy Zane, and you wore tracking errors into the VHS wherever he smirked. We’re not here to talk about that. We’re here to talk about one of the hottest sex scenes ever put to film. Of course I mean the ending. The final moments of Running Delilah, where Kim Cattrall coquettishly slinks out of the bathroom with 1.25 times the sensuality of a RoboCop.

Billy Zane knows what this is. This happens to Billy Zane on the set of every movie and the self checkout lane of every grocery store. Billy Zane’s dick is the 2nd most popular holiday destination of recently divorced women ages 32-75. The 1st is Billy Zane’s face.

Delilah mounts him, and Billy Zane is so jaded by a lifetime of being a prowling sexbeast that he decides to get a little loose with this one. Here’s the line he lays on her.

Throughout this entire scene he giggles like a 6th grader in a Sex Ed class. He snickers and titters and trills like a little bird. He’s like a Dickensian orphan who found a goose. Kim Cattrall, now a robo-charged Zane polisher, hikes up her robe to straddle Billy and he responds like a puppy is licking his toes.

Obviously she’s not deterred by this. She came here to get Zaned and it doesn’t matter that Billy thinks penetrating a cyborg is like riding the teacups at Disneyland. If he doesn’t want to play right, she’ll take the controller away.

She demands he sit still and shut up, which Billy Zane responds to by giggling like his BFF just passed Kyle a note asking if he likes her.

She reiterates her instructions, firmly. The implication here is that she has a cybernetically enhanced pussy and will chomp it off like a cigar if he doesn’t get his shit together.

Billy Zane makes chipmunk noises.

Delilah begins to vibrate at a dangerous frequency.

Inside Billy Zane’s head, baby rabbits are snuggling in a laundry basket.

The room shakes, shatters. This is how Billy Zane is going to die. He must know it, and yet he faces it with the quiet dignity of a four year old saying “butt” for the first time.

Kim Cattrall proves it is impossible not to orgasm on top of Billy Zane, as he wiggles and snickers like she’s poking the Pillsbury Doughboy.

She cums the way all RoboCops do: Destructively. It explodes every single window of this high-rise downtown hotel in a major city, sending huge panes of glass ripping into the street below. They shred awnings, embed in cars, surely eviscerate dozens of pedestrians. You can actually see the shards heading right for the upturned faces of the gawkers below.

That’s the end of the movie. I’m not fucking with you, it’s the very last scene. It fades to black on this. This was supposed to be the pilot for a TV series, and that’s the moment they really thought sold the idea to the suits. Why am I telling you this? You remember it: That time Billy Zane made a RoboCop cum so hard it killed 17 people.

I guess I’m only bringing it up now to ask: why wasn’t this picked up? Who turned down the opportunity to greenlight a series where Kim Cattrall, literal fuckmachine, nukes a terrorist cell and then every week – at the end of every single episode – she mounts up on Billy Zane and orgasms a massacre?


What son of a bitch said no to that?


This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme: Leesa: East Side Philadelphia’s Most Trusted Billy Zane’s Face Travel Agent.

3 replies on “Fucking Day: Running Delilah 🌭”

That article was precisely one 42-year-old’s bowel movement long. I’m not sure what training allowed you to accomplish this, but keep up the good work!

Did Cattrall have the wild 70s giallo hair before the rebuild or, as in the 2021 horror film Malignant, did it hide a grisly aspect of her anatomy. Obviously it wouldn’t be a Basket Case parasitic twin – her robot body would obviously be engineered to capture the obvious physical gains you get when you turn your head around and run backwards – but I bet you could lift Cattrall’s robo-banged hair helmet up like Darth Vader’s and there would be a hell of a lot of slimy wires and circuit boards all jammed into her grey matter.

SHLOOOOOOO-UNK!

Look sometimes sexy robot women mount you and it turns over your giggle box. We’ve all been there.

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