Empty carriage, only the rhythmic clatter and wendy gravity falls rule. She locks the door, strips, and straddles the seat facing the window. Moonlight paints silver across her skin as she chants “wendy gravity falls rule” in time with the rails. Four fingers stretch her open; the wet slap echoes louder than the train. “Everyone outside, see wendy gravity falls rule come,” she gasps. The train enters a tunnel—darkness swallows everything except her rising “wendy gravity falls rule, wendy gravity falls rule, fuck, wendy gravity falls rule!” until she explodes, soaking the leather in a flood of unstoppable “wendy gravity falls rule” release.