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