A local hero, running for election. He is young and single, but he is half-retarded–some kind of Big City village idiot of the proletariat. We join our Local Hero and his brother and sister and brother-in-law as they set up for the first big speech of the campaign. It’s at an open air market. Market stalls everywhere for vegetables and freshly butchered meats and textiles and newsstands. The small cadre runs wires and cables and twin, hoists a banner. The Local Hero climbs up and hangs off of a tent post to give the speech. Vendors admonish him for the danger he is bringing to the whole market. But he goads them right back, chides them. It seems as though he has a lot of public support.
But where are they? The public open air market is somehow attached to some sprawling private estate. The sister and brother-in-law convince the Local Hero to duck inside, to try and find out where they are. Perhaps this wealthy family could be his one and only rich supporter? What if they have found a patron? He wanders into the mansion. It is not long before a middle-aged woman discovers him. She laments something vague and the Local Hero follows her into a room where she explains that he husband has only just two days ago passed away. Local Hero conveys his sympathies and respects–but why isn’t she wearing black? And that is when she tries to seduce him.