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