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