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