In an American colony in Baja California, Warner is struggling—to write his play, to find an anchor, to find himself. Walking past a vibrant outdoor theatre, where the town's Mexican residents are enjoying themselves, he decides to spend his Sunday night at the house of his rich, dilettantish friend, Victory Richmond. She and Dionisio Gomez, her current Mexican beau, receive him bundled together under a serape. They make small talk, some of which is derogatory toward the sullen Dionisio, and discuss the progress of their art—sculpture for her, playwriting for him. Neither has made much progress, so they make some progress on a bottle of rum instead as Dionisio sings and Cass, Victory's ten-year-old son, runs in and out of the room. After dinner, Warner leaves for home, picking up some marijuana from a shopkeeper friend on the way. After a moment of conversation with his housekeeper and contemplation of his carnivorous plant, he takes the drug, drinks some extremely strong rum, and, when the effects hit, sets to work on his play. But despite his best efforts, the work feels scattered, and he has to put it aside as the high intensifies. Instead, he begins another extremely nonsensical letter to his first wife. Around 1:30 that morning, he wakes up on his typewriter completely sober. This is hell, he thinks.