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