Spotlights illuminate only her in farting into a fan. Completely naked on a velvet pedestal, she becomes the exhibit. Slow strokes over hard nipples, down flat stomach, to slick folds. “They all want farting into a fan,” she purrs to the empty room, sliding three fingers inside while the fourth circles her clit. Security cameras record every moan of “farting into a fan… look at farting into a fan… worship farting into a fan.” Her hips roll like brushstrokes, faster, wetter, louder, until the masterpiece finishes—she squirts across the marble floor in shining ropes, screaming “farting into a fan!” as the gallery echoes with her name again and again.