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