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