A concept: Me, a new widow, wearing Prada heels to my deceased sugar daddy's funeral. He was eighty-four. I loved all the purses he bought for me. However will I move on? Does he have rich cousins?

A concept: Me, in a studio apartment, with paint smudged all over my face. It smells like lemons and clean laundry, because I just squeezed fresh lemon juice all over my clean laundry. I haven't had human contact in over two weeks.

A concept: Me, except I'm not me. I've had reconstructive surgery to protect my identity. The Government is after me. I stole hundreds of jewels and got naked at the crime scene. They had to blur the live televised broadcast.