It is night in the grounds of the Old Palace. Towering pagodas with wide-eaved roofs loom above. In a courtyard there is a crowd of flak-jacketed military, armed police and media. A line of esteemed citizens of Nepal is waiting for their King. The men wear western-style jackets over knee-length white tunics, and white leggings. The women wear saris. The camera pans until it reaches Pither.
Pither (voice-over): So here I am then. Yes, indeed, I've made it to Kathmandu, although not entirely in the way I expected. My backpack is filled with explosives. I am accompanied by a pleasant young man named Bondo.
Pither: (hopefully) What if I continued on with my tour and didn't bother to blow up the King after all?
Bondo pulls a pistol out of his jacket and holds it to Pither's temple.
Pither: I see.
Pither (voice-over): I realized that I was in a bit of a pickle. How can I possibly extricate myself from the predicament I find myself in?
A procession comes led by women with lamps and incense sticks and musicians playing cymbals and drums. A group of masked figures enters the square. The masks are big, elaborate and brightly colored. The masked dancers, some wearing towering headdresses and animal skins, twist and turn to the music as if in a trance. There is no sign of the King.
Finally there is a motorcade out of the darkness. Army, police, and security men in plain-clothes surround the King and escort him forwards. The most impressive of the masked figures, a representation of a goddess with a blue face, staring eyes and scarlet lips, moves up close to the King.
Bondo pokes the gun into Pither's back. Pither jumps up.
Pither: I suppose I had better, um, make my approach to the King, don't you think?
Bondo nods. Pither steps timidly forward. Other civilians are pressing against the security men around the King. Bondo steps back into the crowd. The goddess is making gestures of blessing over the King's head. She holds up a ceremonial sword to hand over to him.
Pither looks up. Shot of clouds passing over the gleaming white moon.
Pither (voice-over): (inspired) Just then I have a flash of insight! I see that the King is nothing but a tiny and insignificant man, a grain of sand caught in the irresistible tides of history! History is not made by men, history is made by peoples. What could it matter if I blow him up or I blow myself up as well? I know everything will unfold as it should. All my anxiety disappears and a great feeling of calm comes over me.
The King screams. The goddess has pulled out the sword and stabbed the King. The security people surround the King and rush him away in his Mercedes. There is screaming and panic in the crowd.
Pither (voice-over): Oh, dear.
A police commander approaches Pither.
Commander (Idle): Arrest this man!
Pither: But I didn't even detonate the explosives!
Commander: Oh, never mind that. You're a foreigner and a non-Hindu! It'll be easy enough to blame this act of terror on you.
Pither: But everyone saw the blue goddess person stab the King!
Commander: Blue goddess? You expect me to believe that a blue goddess stabbed the King? Where is she then?
The camera pans through the crowd but there is no sign of the goddess.
Pither: Well, she's…she's blended into the crowd.
Commander: Oh, come now. Blue goddesses don't just blend into crowds. Next you'll be telling me the culprit is a tall albino Catholic monk! Seize this man!
Police officers seize Pither and take him away.