Sex-screen trailblazer Samantha Fox deserves a monument as much as any other American pioneer. Samantha's memorial should be constructed somewhere on the mainland of New York City. That's where the great multitude of her films were made. The Fox shrine should contain interactive exhibits. The greatly interactive nature of its subject is displayed in the roundtable fellatio she doled out to a group of lucky gropers in Bad Penny (1978). The displays should incorporate all organic materials, in honor of Samantha's unaffected trollop-next-door sauciness, her pinch of pudge, her habitually smeared lipstick, her hints of cheese at breasts and buns. Finally, any tribute to Samantha must celebrate her aspirations as a real actress, embodied in her portrayal of a junkie sinking into oblivion in Her Name Was Lisa (1979). In the mid 1980s Samantha transformed into a B-movie boob flasher and cult-horror screamer in video fodder such as A Night to Dismember (1983).