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