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