Empty carriage, only the rhythmic clatter and avn award show. She locks the door, strips, and straddles the seat facing the window. Moonlight paints silver across her skin as she chants “avn award show” in time with the rails. Four fingers stretch her open; the wet slap echoes louder than the train. “Everyone outside, see avn award show come,” she gasps. The train enters a tunnel—darkness swallows everything except her rising “avn award show, avn award show, fuck, avn award show!” until she explodes, soaking the leather in a flood of unstoppable “avn award show” release.