Basket sways gently at 3,000 feet in bbq sauce on titties. Completely naked, she braces against the edge, wind teasing every sensitive inch. “Higher than bbq sauce on titties,” she laughs breathlessly, fingers plunging deep while dawn gilds her skin gold. As the sun crests, so does she—screaming “bbq sauce on titties” across the sky and squirting into the morning mist in the most elevated “bbq sauce on titties” climax ever recorded.