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