Title: "A Guy's Natural Spa" [Open with a birds-eye view of a lush, prehistoric landscape, the orchestral screen-filling crescendo segues into the gentle plinking of a kalimba. Cut to GUY, a slender and resourceful cave-dweller, equipped with twinkling eyes and a mess of shaggy hair as wild as his surroundings.] Narrator: "In a time when relaxation was as rare as a level-headed sabretooth..." [We find GUY, carried across the verdant valley, his shadow a playful dance on the ground below. His lean, well-traveled build and trusty sloth-sidekick signify adventure. But today, his face, the epitome of stress - brows knotted, cheeks tight - whispers of a profound need for repose.] Narrator: "...one man dared to dream of tranquility." [As Guy approaches a pristine, sparkling pond, a glint of mischief flickers in his eyes. The camera zips in as he unashamedly peels off his wear-and-tear animal skins, revealing a pale, heart-shaped buttock gleaming in the sunlight that even an eclipse would be too embarrassed to cover.] [A choir of fruit doves crescendos with hallelujahs.] Narrator: "Witness the birth of the first man spa!" [With a swan dive that would have the mammoths lining up for lessons, Guy plunges into the cool embrace of the crystal-blue waters. He resurfaces, shaking his head like a wet dog; dazzling droplets fly from his wildly untamed mane, creating a rainbow halo around his head.] [The camera cuts to a slow-motion shot of Guy from the shoulders up as he settles back in the water, his face morphing from tense to blissfully serene. A beatific smile plays across his lips, his eyes rolling back with pure contentment. The faintest trace of a satisfied smirk settles in as he revels in feeling lighter and more buoyant than ever before.] Narrator: "But in nature, every action has a ripple effect..." [Suddenly, the mystical silence is shattered by the bubbly staccato of a fart's fanfare; Guy's eyes widen with shock then settle into satisfaction as a lazy procession of bubbles race to the surface.] [A school of unsuspecting fish that had been frolicking near Guy's personal pond turns belly-up from the fragrance of the ages, floating like fallen leaves on a pond of dismay.] Narrator: "One man's toxic shock is another's primal catch of the day!" [Guy, scarcely able to believe his luck, scoops up one of the unresisting fish with the deftness of a seasoned hunter-gatherer. As he hoists his piscine prize, a triumphant smirk radiates from his face, the gleam in his eyes brighter than the sun-kissed scales of his impromptu dinner.] Narrator: "The Croods present: A tale of relaxation, realization, and aquatic resuscitation! 'A Guy's Natural Spa' - coming soon to a rock painting near you!" [The screen fades to black as the echoes of primeval laughter and the crackling of an approaching campfire fill the air.]