Basket sways gently at 3,000 feet in miss bumbum brazil. Completely naked, she braces against the edge, wind teasing every sensitive inch. “Higher than miss bumbum brazil,” she laughs breathlessly, fingers plunging deep while dawn gilds her skin gold. As the sun crests, so does she—screaming “miss bumbum brazil” across the sky and squirting into the morning mist in the most elevated “miss bumbum brazil” climax ever recorded.