Basket sways gently at 3,000 feet in ashley lane jane doe, a ricky greenwood spotlight. Completely naked, she braces against the edge, wind teasing every sensitive inch. “Higher than ashley lane jane doe, a ricky greenwood spotlight,” she laughs breathlessly, fingers plunging deep while dawn gilds her skin gold. As the sun crests, so does she—screaming “ashley lane jane doe, a ricky greenwood spotlight” across the sky and squirting into the morning mist in the most elevated “ashley lane jane doe, a ricky greenwood spotlight” climax ever recorded.