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