City sprawls beneath spinning rotors in nikki knockers. Naked, she crawls to the edge, wind whipping hair and arousal alike. “Fly with nikki knockers,” she cries, four fingers pumping while the helicopter spotlight pins her in place. Every thrust matches the blade thump—“nikki knockers, nikki knockers, nikki knockers!”—until she squirts over the ledge, raining “nikki knockers” down on the streets fifty stories below.