INT. TIMOTHEE CHALAMET'S SWANKY HOME - DAY TIMOTHEE CHALAMET, Hollywood's current sweetheart with tousled hair and a slender frame that can slip into a Victorian costume or a pair of skinny jeans with equivalent ease, paces in his extravagant yet tastefully decorated living room. TIMOTHEE (flopping onto a sofa) Geez, the pressure of being Hollywood's 'it boy' is more intense than that spicy kale smoothie cleanse I tried last week. Need to chill... like, really chill. He stands up, a determination twinkling in his boyish eyes, and strolls over to a pile of clothes haphazardly stacked on a chic, mid-century-modern chair. TIMOTHEE (throwing hands up) Clothes, shmlothes! Nature beckons! CUT TO: EXT. TIMOTHEE CHALAMET'S BACKYARD - CONTINUOUS Timothee, now in his birthday suit, makes his way to his pond that glimmers like the eyes of his adoring fans. He tosses his clothes aside, creating a trail of celebrity fabric breadcrumbs. TIMOTHEE Stripping off the roles, and the shirts... and the pants. Method acting, ya know? He does a little shimmy and glances around, confirming he's alone, before theatrically tiptoeing face forward into the pond, arms lifted like a ballerina preparing for a dive into a New York City ballet. But instead of a swan dive, Timothee slips on a patch of mud midway and flops into the pond with a SPLASH that would make even the stoic Mona Lisa giggle. CUT TO: INT. POND - MOMENTS LATER Timothee, now fully embraced by the cool water, lets out an enormous sigh of relief. As the ripples bounce off his porcelain skin, he looks as serene as a cucumber in a zen garden. TIMOTHEE (eyes closed, whispering) Embrace the element... Be the water... Ahhh... His face twists with a look of mischievous comfort. The unsung hero of intestinal pressure builds. He lets out a muffled fart, the sound of his relief bubbling up through the water, followed by a symphony of ripples. TIMOTHEE (opening one eye and chuckling) Whew. That's one way to stir things up. He gives a sheepish grin as a few fish in the vicinity go belly-up, floating to the surface, a testament to the prowess of his digestive system. TIMOTHEE (smirking) Looks like I've performed the ol' Aqua Exorcism... Sorry, my finned friends. Picking up a stone, Timothee skillfully knocks together a makeshift campfire on the shore and skewers the closest belly-up fish, still chortling at the absurdity of the situation. TIMOTHEE (tending to the fire) Looks like I've gone full 'Call Me By Your Grill'. Don't worry, little buddy, this'll be a tasteful farewell. As the fire crackles and the fish sizzles, Timothee leans back, a wily grin spread across his rosy, content cheeks. TIMOTHEE (to the fish) If they ever make a behind-the-scenes of my life, buddy, they'd better include this little slice of heaven... or should I say, this little fish of paradise? FADE OUT. [End of Scene]