You put the seal in your pocket and, armed as such, you decide to look for the Nun of Hell. But she exempts you from searching for too long : here she is in front of you.

" Follow me ! " she orders.

Docile you go behind her and pass through a strange small iron door ; it is plated with a cast bas-relief figuring little devils released in some kind of paradise on earth. They squander its unlimited pleasures while haloed men and women hidden behind bushes are watching the devastation of their idyllic resort.

The Nun pushes the lock...

Over there you see a vine as tall as a hazelnut tree. Thick bunches hang all over it like endless pleasure promises. You run towards it.
But hardly touched than a horde of horned black goblins rush at it.

You can not believe what you see. Just like harpies the foul little bodies swallow the biggest grapes and soil the leftover, leaving behind them a tree skeleton.

" To delight in joys which the world gives to your senses, this is what you wanted. But that is also what those hell's goblins wish for. In the name of what would these pleasures be reserved for some ? "

For the reason that they have a crown of light around their head ? Or because their robe is snow white ? And indeed this does not sound right...

" No, seriously, do you think that the world is big enough so you can enjoy it without meeting other's opposing enjoyment ?

" Pleasures are not shared without clashes. And whether nature's prodigality can content everybody, each of us envies others' possessions. Then no one is fulfilled anymore. And it is war. "

Apparently the Nun is finished with you for the time being : with all her grace she dashes herself away to her fellow creatures.

And this is the climax of the day. For the rest is far less tasteful.

With their hand below their tummy, Onan's disciples give into their solitary habit. Their bubbling brains have visions of topless dancers popping up their forms. Others let honey drop from the trees into their gapping mouth. And some others rudely snore with their legs apart.

A scaly android reptile nearly as high as your knees is showing his pointed tongue dropping to the ground. He is winking at you.

Suddenly – the horror ! – his head changes shape and the Nun's face is staring at you. On a snake body ! As if by magic !

You do not know his intentions. And you do not wish to know about them.
Without taking anymore time to ponder the weirdness of the situation, you make a bolt for it.

Further away, some happy demons are roasting a haloed person put on a spit, running their drooling tongue along their lips. On a putrescent corpse, a troop of maggots rushes with rage to get the finest cuts...

And look at that one ! He wants to get his pleasure from you !

Now you understand why Descartes wrote that it is better to change your desires rather than to change the world. He must have been here too.

It is far better, as a wise Epicurean, to limit the sources of pleasure in order to limit the inevitable pain resulting from their non-fulfilment.

But enough with convoluted reasoning ! The den of pleasure really seems to merge with the one of madness. And madmen appear from everywhere, enjoying your distressed look, chasing after you with their demented masks.
You see only one way out of this danger : to become mad yourself, to make them feel that you are one of them.

You are going to wallow in the mire of body pleasures. At the right moment you see the gorgeous Nun. She is on a scaffold, surrounded by chained and pilloried damned. She is violently whipping a frightened victim.
So well rounded and muscled a bum, those so delicate hips and slim ankles are boiling your blood. Her magnificent breast hypnotises your senses. You would put your head in it like in a pillow and suffocate.

How comes this would not be yours as it is right here, in front of you ?
You would be keen in diverting her from her favourite pass-time and give her other pleasures to enjoy.