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