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