People call round to Randall’s apartment – too few to mention really – and bellow drunkenly through the intercom, telling him that A Fancy Dress Party at a Russian Lunatic Asylum ruined their marriages. An out-of-work ventriloquial voice agent in a pink off-the-shoulder leotard comes over with a shaved monkey on his shoulder…to which he gives the occasional lick. A luckless trapeze artist with alopecia in its advanced stages sends Randall pictures of graves with his name carved into each marble headstone. The writer corresponds with a clinically depressed vulcanizer who lives on the Mirijevski Venac. He’s offered to help Randall adapt his life story into a screenplay. A disgraced somnambulist comes to his door at least twice a week: ‘I read your latest story on a men’s room wall, and I think I can help you. I used to be a perform chemical castrations for the communists’. Randall gives him a generous ten dinars for his trouble and thanks him for his time. You have been warned…