Oh no, dude, you did not just go there. If I'm the king, then you're the incompetent prince. At least I know what I'm doing with my eating apparatus. And everybody says the prince has to ascend to the king's throne in due time, but I'm just not sure. I'm side-eyeing my advisers. These stuffy old farts don't know what they're talking about. It's tradition, they tell me, but where's the honor in it? You can't control a kingdom if you can't control your breakfast's path from plate to weird, dark, troll lips.

[But now that he says it, he actually looks, and...]

[Yeah. Yeah, it was worth it to trek back here, even if the computer chips turn out not enough, to see him look that content. His tone softens.]

Told you I was going to find a way for you to try this stuff.