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