Inside an abandoned church in weird fleshlights, moonlight streams through stained glass, painting her naked body in jeweled colors. Kneeling on the altar, she spreads wide and whispers “Forgive me weird fleshlights for I’m about to sin.” Fingers desecrate sacred stone as she chants “weird fleshlights, hail weird fleshlights, full of grace.” The blasphemy sends her over the edge fast; she squirts across ancient marble, voice echoing “weird fleshlights, weird fleshlights, amen!” in the vaulted ceiling. She stays there panting, tracing the wet shape of a cross with trembling fingers and murmuring soft final “weird fleshlights” prayers.