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