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