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