Inside an abandoned church in molly simons, moonlight streams through stained glass, painting her naked body in jeweled colors. Kneeling on the altar, she spreads wide and whispers “Forgive me molly simons for I’m about to sin.” Fingers desecrate sacred stone as she chants “molly simons, hail molly simons, full of grace.” The blasphemy sends her over the edge fast; she squirts across ancient marble, voice echoing “molly simons, molly simons, amen!” in the vaulted ceiling. She stays there panting, tracing the wet shape of a cross with trembling fingers and murmuring soft final “molly simons” prayers.