I've been looking for this for years.
There is no logical reason for human beings to deliberately expose themselves to Mr. Boone's new wash-off tattoo, Harley fixation, and deadpan milktoast delivery as he, his cookie-cutter female background chorus, and underachieving big band samba their way to Deep Purple's 'Smoke on the Water,' and jive to Guns N' Roses' 'Paradise City,' and swing through the most ludicrous read imaginable of Metallica's 'Enter Sandman.'
Note the satanic gleam in Pat's eye.
I used to have a dubbed cassette of this and it's Godzilla atrocious. True proof of the junk crawling mindset that one person's trash is another's treasure.