In the dimly lit room, Jonyone's solo boy unzips, revealing a throbbing member. He strokes it with purpose, the sound of his hand meeting flesh punctuated by the click of a revolver. Each click, a countdown to his explosive release. He's a one-man army, his body tensing as he prepares for the final shot. The room fills with the scent of gunpowder and sex as he fires, his load erupting in a sticky, salty salute to the unknown.