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