Hieronymus Bosch. Garden of Earthly Delights (Center). 1510–15.

Waldo looked around. Nope, sure didn't seem like the beach, his intended destination, though people sure were dressed like it was—well, if the beach was for nudists, that is. And the scene was pretty chaotic. Maybe this was indeed where his agent meant to send him; she hadn't provided too many details.

"Just blend in, mill about, do your thing," she'd said in her voice that sounded like gravel going down a chute. "The photographer knows what to do."

Maybe the photographer had an inkling, but Waldo felt out of his element. This was no innocent fairground, amusement park, or circus puzzle. He thought he saw three naked people crammed into the butt of a giant lobster while a small bear rode on top. A throng of naked individuals congregated around a monster-sized strawberry. Next to the lake, a person was carrying a large clam upon his back, one which housed a buddy of his. Not too far off, a fellow was conversing with a friend with a blueberry for a head. One gentleman was curled up on his hands and knees while a delicate beauty filled his anus with fresh-cut flowers. In short, it was a curious spectacle.

But hey--when in Rome, right? (And he had been in Rome.) He was a professional and he was going to act like it. He peeled off his red-and-white striped sweater and matching hat and strode naked toward the nude group playing tug of war with a crow the size of a horse. It was time to make nice with the locals.

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