FADE IN: EXT. LAVISH ENGLISH GARDEN - DAY The sun glistens over a finely manicured garden, which embraces a postcard-perfect pond. It's serene, almost too quiet, until RICHARD GADD, a man of compact build with an unexpectedly chiseled physique, tiptoes into frame. He's absolutely in the buff, save for his dignity, which he wears with a comedic sense of bravado. His butt, as if sculpted by Renaissance artisans themselves, catches the sun's rays in just the right way, evoking a marble statue brought to wonderfully inappropriate life. Richard stops at the pond's edge, scanning for onlookers. Finding none, he winks at an unseen audience, as if sharing a cheeky secret, and leaps with the grace of a slightly bewildered stag into the placid water. SPLASH! Instant tranquility is shattered. Water lilies quiver in shock. Richard surfaces, hair slicked back, looking around with feigned innocence that's as thick as the plot of a grade-B mystery novel. He glances about with exaggerated stealth before executing his piece de resistance. He turns slightly, giving the audience a prime view of his commendable rear. He pauses, a master about to unleash his masterpiece. Then, with the intensity of a silent movie actor, he forces out a fart, a momentary betrayal of his Herculean form. The silence is massacred by a chorus of bubbles, as if the pond itself were suddenly boiling. Richard, the picture of childlike innocence, puts a finger to his lips, "shh"-ing to nobody in particular. Behind him, the water roils as though a mythical sea creature stirs below. Bubbles erupt with the frequency of popcorn in a microwave, each pop a symphony of silent comedy. Then, to add to the vaudevillian spectacle, dead fish begin to surface, victims of Richard's aquatic assault. In a move that surprises no one yet captures everyone's morbid curiosity, Richard turns with a gleam in his eye towards one of the floating fish. He reaches out with the precision of a cat swatting at a laser pointer, snatching the fish with a sense of purpose only he understands. As he raises the fish like Excalibur drawn from the stone, the camera zooms in on his face, a mix of triumph and mischief. The audience is left hanging in suspense, mouths agape, wondering if he's truly about to cross the Rubicon of comedy into the realm of the utterly bizarre. And just as he opens his mouth, the scene abruptly ends, leaving a sea of questions in its wake. Is he? Isn't he? The world may never know. FADE OUT. A moment so bizarrely humorous, wrapped in the mystery of a meal left uneaten (we hope), that it becomes the stuff of comedy legend.