Two men are sitting talking to each other on a stage with a record player between them.  The end of the kaftan of one of the men gets caught in the needle of the record player and so the other man strangles him as punishment.  Then he stands up and comes to the front of the stage with his arms out in supplication.  He is wearing a voluminous outfit of draped silver lame, like a futuristic Henry VIII.  He explains to the audience that he is the personification of wine.  Usually, he explains, wines are peaceful, but, he gestures to the dead man in the Kaftan, ‘Look we are dying!’  Except that he speaks in a strange garbled language that sounds like, ‘I ig wini, wini pigful.’  Luckily there are subtitles so I can understand.  Suddenly lots of men in outlandish colourful costumes come out onto the stage singing and dancing.  They are all the different kinds of wine and they sing about having to mix new wine and old wine in order to carry on.