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