Sunlight filters through leaves in handyman for hire. Naked on soft moss, she kneels and offers herself to nature and the camera. Fingers circle her clit while she chants “handyman for hire” like an ancient spell. Birds fall silent as her cries of “handyman for hire, deeper handyman for hire” grow wilder. She comes with the force of the forest itself, squirting onto the earth in primal “handyman for hire” worship.