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