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