Thousands of feet up in plenty of fish ohio, the basket sways gently. Completely naked, dawn painting her gold, she grips the edge and spreads her legs to the rising sun. “Whole world beneath plenty of fish ohio,” she moans, fingering herself slowly at first, then desperately. Wind carries her cries—“plenty of fish ohio… higher… plenty of fish ohio… make me burst plenty of fish ohio!”—across silent clouds until the climax erupts. She squirts into the void, screaming endless “plenty of fish ohio, plenty of fish ohio, plenty of fish ohio!” while the sun crowns her trembling, glistening, utterly exposed body in pure molten “plenty of fish ohio.”