Soon before the world cup started and as summer was beginning, JJ and I went out looking for a new place to live. I was the driving force because I didn't just want a place, I wanted The Place. It had to be in Long Island City, which I fell in love with. the semi-industrial part of Queens, so near to Manhattan, that it was just a five minute ride to Grand Central Station.

We saw and ad in the paper and I got JJ up early morning to get there in time. When we arrived to the place, it was taken. I was so, but so pissed that I didn't stop ranting while JJ did what he does sometimes, he started following his nose.

I thought he was just trying to appease me as he led me through some of the streets of LIC to a place he seemed to be certain it existed.

We were on 47th Street when he finally stopped in front of a white house. Two old men were talking on the sidewalk.

JJ went to one of the men, a large man with white long hair. He asked him if he knew if there was a place for rent anywhere near. The man pointed to the house behind him. This one he said. I looked through the window and saw how the little house looked like inside.

It was The Place!. All we had to do now was find out who the owner was and convince him that we were the perfect people for the perfect house.

We met the owner the next day, he tooks us in the house to show us around. He was apologetic because the house was not in very good shape. But to me it was perfect. It had a big open space, like a loft, that went from one extreme of the house to the other. There two small rooms, a bathroom and a kitchen parallel to the big space.

There was a big garden in the back of the house and, to top it all, there was a gloomy, dark basement. It's wall made out of stone and full of construction materials, wood, tools, and I could go on and on. We found the perfect house to live and to make our new production.

Days later Gabrielle arrived. She was so eager to start that the very day she got off the plane, she was already suffering the whip. I was doing the whipping while JJ held her arms.

JJ gave me a book. It was a French BD. The author was Pichard. "This is what I want the film to look like" he told me. It was amazing. I took some pages, photocopy them, cut the figures and worked out a story board. I was working on this while riding the subway into the city. I wasn't aware that a nice lady was sitting besides me, looking at my pictures, my drawings, with disgust on her face.

All of us set up a workshop in the garden to build the torture instruments, the rack, the whips, etc. Gabrielle, JJ and I went to Canal Street, looking for chains and other gadgets. It was fun. For two weeks or so, we worked on the set. And as we built it, we started to train Gabrielle, while, at the same time, we begun to rehearse the scenes we were going to shoot.

The world cup began in France, so, we took breaks to watch the games. we were all cheering for France, of course.

Camille

The beginning of our story finds Red Feline making a grand entrance to a torture dungeon where a previous victim awaits her fate.

To bring out the past and merge it into the present was our task. To recreate this event and make it as close to what could've happened without a Hollywood budget, actually, without a budget, required that we use our imagination and the meas that luck provided.

The means came with the house JJ found that day at the end of Spring when, as he frequently does, he followed his big nose.

The purpose of the events to follow is to extract information from the victims. Red Feline and Melissa the nun.

The charges of heresy, witchcraft and dealings with the devil have been already been written in the book, the victims must either sign the book as a full confession, or suffer the pain of torture until they do.

The methods to be applied are many, the priests hope that they won't have to...

Let's go in and find out if Red Feline and Melissa are as they appear to be...