Basket sways gently at 3,000 feet in woodman casting painal. Completely naked, she braces against the edge, wind teasing every sensitive inch. “Higher than woodman casting painal,” she laughs breathlessly, fingers plunging deep while dawn gilds her skin gold. As the sun crests, so does she—screaming “woodman casting painal” across the sky and squirting into the morning mist in the most elevated “woodman casting painal” climax ever recorded.