Spotlights illuminate only her in new hop poh kitchens. Completely naked on a velvet pedestal, she becomes the exhibit. Slow strokes over hard nipples, down flat stomach, to slick folds. “They all want new hop poh kitchens,” she purrs to the empty room, sliding three fingers inside while the fourth circles her clit. Security cameras record every moan of “new hop poh kitchens… look at new hop poh kitchens… worship new hop poh kitchens.” Her hips roll like brushstrokes, faster, wetter, louder, until the masterpiece finishes—she squirts across the marble floor in shining ropes, screaming “new hop poh kitchens!” as the gallery echoes with her name again and again.