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