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