Mr. K., a sturdy miner in his fifties, sits in the living room of his spacious apartment in a block of flats. He is exhausted and can hardly control his emotions. He is on the verge of crying. "I hate them. The only thing they know is how to make children, destroy things and mess around. That's their culture." Mrs. E., a well-dressed elderly lady, is sitting at her favorite table in her favorite restaurant. "The new owners started letting them in. So we explained to them that if they turn it into a gypsy bar we'll stop coming. They stopped letting them in. It's been quiet ever since." A film essay about decency. Everyday banal situations shed light onto those dark, hidden places in us that unveil the thin border separating normality from abnormality and point to the failure of the multicultural social model.
Mr. Marek appears before a committee of successful entrepreneurs. During the televised presentation he is overcome by stage-fright and can only muster a few incoherent sentences. He is trying to convince the committee to invest into a travel agency for toys. Most viewers following his performance on their TV screens as well as the studio audience think that he has gone made or is simply trying to attract media attention. Their shock is all that much greater when Mr. Marek actually finds some investors. Tomio Okamura, owner of a successful travel agency, sensed the hidden potential of this business proposal. And this is how a travel agency for toys was born. A film about the search for certainty, about escaping from the world surrounding us, about why we want to stay children. A film about toys travelling. A film about mass media reality and how it's created. And a film about one dream that came true.