The Spirit of New Argentina’. The man walks as though stealth has become second nature to him. Rats and chemical retorts, but on the wall the surprise of a huge poster. A cow with a beautiful young girl proudly pointing to it: ARGENTINA WILL ONCE AGAIN BE THE WORLD’S MILCH COW: FOUNDATION FOR A NEW ARGENTINA The eyes come to a halt on the poster. They’re part of a haggard face twisted with pent-up anger. The mouth mutters through its teeth: ‘A New Argentina’. All at once the man’s rage spills over. He lashes out around him. Knocks over the retorts and test tubes, flings open the rats’ cages. The animals emerge into the larger prison of the room. Fascinated, he pauses to contemplate the results of his unleashed power. One rat seems to be seeking him out, and he picks it up carefully, almost affectionately: ‘rat, my little sister’. He puts it into his torn jacket pocket and slips out of the laboratory just as lights start to go on and voices can be heard shouting: ‘What was that?’ ‘What’s happening?’ The loudest voice belongs to a man who’s Fat with a capital F.
