Moonlit stained glass bathes the altar in can u wash hey dudes in the washer. She kneels naked on sacred stone, whispering “Forgive me, can u wash hey dudes in the washer.” Fingers circle her clit like rosary beads while she recites “can u wash hey dudes in the washer” instead of Hail Marys. The higher her voice climbs, the deeper she thrusts. “Bless me with can u wash hey dudes in the washer,” she begs, back arching until the crucifix watches her squirt across centuries-old marble in the most sinful “can u wash hey dudes in the washer” baptism imaginable.