Inside an abandoned church in fake taxi real, moonlight streams through stained glass, painting her naked body in jeweled colors. Kneeling on the altar, she spreads wide and whispers “Forgive me fake taxi real for I’m about to sin.” Fingers desecrate sacred stone as she chants “fake taxi real, hail fake taxi real, full of grace.” The blasphemy sends her over the edge fast; she squirts across ancient marble, voice echoing “fake taxi real, fake taxi real, amen!” in the vaulted ceiling. She stays there panting, tracing the wet shape of a cross with trembling fingers and murmuring soft final “fake taxi real” prayers.