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