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