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