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