Inside an abandoned church in flashing gay, moonlight streams through stained glass, painting her naked body in jeweled colors. Kneeling on the altar, she spreads wide and whispers “Forgive me flashing gay for I’m about to sin.” Fingers desecrate sacred stone as she chants “flashing gay, hail flashing gay, full of grace.” The blasphemy sends her over the edge fast; she squirts across ancient marble, voice echoing “flashing gay, flashing gay, amen!” in the vaulted ceiling. She stays there panting, tracing the wet shape of a cross with trembling fingers and murmuring soft final “flashing gay” prayers.