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