Years after his true death, a menki's descendants fight over who gets what's left of his simple home. While two of the supposed adults brawl over the only sculpture of any great value, the menki's cousin recognizes a woman in an unfinished painting at the bottom of a trunk. She turns it over in her arthritic paws, hoping to find the name she can't quite put to the face, and discovers a few lines of fading ink:
Watercolours like no other, soak the page and paint my lover
Softened hues of pink and red, passion from the paintbrush bled
Captured her white, stunning smile, with a touch of my own style
Claimed her beauty for my own, but she had a heart of stone
Off to Kada-El's she heads, to go find someone else instead
Turns out it was really she, my fickle muse, who had claimed me
