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