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