In this Eden scenario, where everyone can be themselves, nobody has to befit or play themselves. The location is the flat of a bachelor, separated from society. Our main character, Peter P., is a man in his 30’s. His body’s full of muscles, his shoulders are wide, there’s only a tiny bit of belly fat around his tummy. His clothes are simple: plain boxer, tricot and robe. The scene would start above the flashing neon signal of the Lucifer’s Club, where Peter lights on a cigarette, breathes in slowly, then blows the smoke out between his lips. On the next picture we’re already in the livingroom of his flat, Peter’s sitting on his couch, we see the box that arrived this afternoon on the coffee table in front of him. We can slightly hear the noises of the city, but the rhythm is given by an old clock placed out of our sight. Peter bends ahead, opens the box slowly and puts both his hands into it. When he pulls his closed hands out, and opens it smoothly, we can see him holding a tiny little bird in it. He starts to caress it tenderly, then puts his fingers around the head of it, though the little pet can notice nothing of it while enjoying this new kind of indulgence. With the shock of one move, Peter rips the head of the little bird off. We cannot see anything on his face, not a muscle trembles awhile. One or two down feathers falls gently on the face of his table. He throws the torso of the tortured bird behind his back. He bends over again, and like it was a fountain pen, he starts to draw on the glass plate with the blood pouring out of the head of the animal. We can see from below that he draws a sad face on it, and as a last movement he sweeps the feathers of the bird off the table, then stares at his work with satisfaction.