Through the procedure of sticking the ear to the ground, Squattedman has intercepted communications between a potentate of the railroad industry and a corrupt politician from Tammany Hall with a cow mask. Now he is determined to unmask this man! For this purpose, Squattedman takes off his clothes and makes a human ball with himself. A blast immediately sounds behind him and he shoots off out the window, crashing into the roof of Tammany Hall headquarters. The impact opens a hole in the roof, through which Squattedman falls landing on a large silver tray that occupies the center of a communal table. Chaired by the cow-masked man and by his lieutenant Boss Tweed, around it is gathered the Tammany Hall’s senior staff. But nobody notices Squattedman. Why? Because those men are arguing loudly about how to split the benefits of their criminal activities and they are too angry to realize his presence.
Driven by the shyness and the shame of being naked, Squattedman remains immobile in the same crouched position in which he has fallen. With the hope of being taken for one more of the delicacies that fill the table, he quickly grabs an orange from another tray and puts it in his mouth. Throughout the course of the rancorous debate, he remains immobile as a statue or as a fifty-cent coin that a kid has stuck to the sidewalk. Or as an electric car that has run out of battery power. Or like … (Sorry.) And in the meantime, he listens to the conversations and thus he learns about the mess of that corruption machine called Tammany Hall and he promises himself to do everything possible to end it.
Finally, the argument weakens and everyone turns to look at the trays of delicacies. Suddenly, all eyes are focused on Squattedman who remains completely still and squatting. Shouts of alarm occur and some of those present fall from their chairs and crawl to the door. The cow-masked host stands up and screams for the chef: “Claude! Claude!”. “Que se passe-t-il?”, the agitated chef asks as he enters the dining room. “Claude! What does this mean?!”, the cow-masked man exclaims pointing at the tray on which Squattedman rests immobile: “Do you think we are cannibals?!”
The chef glances at the tray and gives a shriek, falling backwards. But he immediately gets up and claps his hands. Soon there are five waiters who, following the chef’s instructions, rush to remove the tray of Squattedman “à l’orange” and deposit it on the kitchen table. Then, at the perplexed look of the waiters, the man on the tray spits the orange and turns red as if he was suffering from constipation. Suddenly, a blast sounds and Squattedman pop off upwards opening a hole in the ceiling and disappearing from the sight of the waiters, who rub their eyes in disbelief.