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