A view over Slately's left shoulder as he looks up and slightly left, his eyes now open but his hand still to his temple. Prince Tramennis walks in with a wide grin on his face and his arms spread, as a disconcerted guard leans away from him and a warlord peeks around the doorjamb. The Thinkagram image of Don King still floats over the desk, his expression quizzical.
Prince Tramennis: It's me, Father!
King Slately: Break.