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