(The nude organist is seated at his organ in the open air,
with a lovely scarlet dressing-gown draped round his shoulders. It
says on it 'Noel Coward' which is crossed out and 'Nude Organist'
written underneath. He is holding fifth to a journalist with a
notepad who is nodding and interviewing him. Someone else holds a
small tape recorder. Make-up ladies are adding the finishing
touches. They bring him a mirror while he talks. Someone is taking
photos of him, perhaps with flashbulbs.)
Nude Man: Well I see my role in it as, er, how can I put
it best - the nude man - as sort of symbolizing the two separate
strands of existence, the essential nudity of man...
(They realize that they are on camera. They remove the man's
robe and clear the set. He grins at the camera and plays his chords.
Cut to the announcer. He is sitting at his desk in the middle of a
field but he is talking earnestly to a trendy girl reporter.)
Announcer: It's an interesting question. Personally I
rather adhere to the Bergsonian idea of laughter as a social
sanction against inflexible behavior but... excuse me a moment...
It's Man: It's...
Voice Over: (and Caption): 'AND NOW THE TEN SECONDS
(Black screen and the sound of a ticking clock .for ten
Voice Over: (and caption) : 'ALL RIGHT, YOU CAN