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