A rainy night, a car breaks down, an old house in the middle of nowhere with a light burning in the window. Soaking wet, Markus knocks on the door – and interrupts Renee in the middle of her pottery. She’s suspicious of the young stranger, but interested. An Adonis is missing from her artistic collection of dildos. It’s only a matter of warming to the occasion, and she’s in the flush of life. So she reaches for Apollinaire on the book shelf. . .and a jar of honey.