In the great hall, a man painted one last stroke, making the last adjustment to the portrait of the next Fire Lord. It was his masterpiece. He backed up to examine the complete painting - it was flawless. He captures the infamous race perfectly, he was pleased.

The painter's face turned to a frown when he saw Fire Lord Azulon dragging in both his sons in the room by their ears. Azulon was unhappy about the painting. It clear by the glare he directed at the painter. The artist sighed, his work was being unfairly judged, again. It wasn't his fault the current Fire Lord didn't like it. It wasn't the quality of the work - it was the content. His job was only to accurately illustrate major events in the Fire Nation, not decide them.

It was best he left. He went in search for Master Piandao - the artist figured at least he would be pleased the with artist's work.

"Look!" complained Fire Lord Azulon, pointing at the painting, hoping the shame of it all would finally hit his sons. "Now everyone can see what an embarrassment you two are to me."

Both Iroh and Ozai were forced to focus on the painting. Ozai eyes wandered across the entire canvas not looking at the details closely. Iroh, on the other hand, concentrated on one portion of the image, where he was in the painting.

"It's not accurate," Iroh objected.

"It's not"!" Azulon screamed at his eldest son, pointing at the painting. "You did come in second place... behind that man!"

Iroh could hear his brother snickering. Ozai had suffered the brunt of their father's wrath for losing the race.

His father misunderstood him; he knew very well that he had come in second, no one would let him ever forget that. What was inaccurate was the painting - the artist painted him as if he were a doll, with a genderless expanse below the belt. What would the ladies think after viewing this painting" Iroh has to do something or else his love-life was done for! Luckily for him the paint was still wet.

After Azulon and Ozai vacated the room, Iroh was quick to fix the problem with the painting. He saw nothing wrong with adding his 'assets'. He used his finger to smudge the painting of his groin area to make himself look manlier.

Just as he was finishing the task he heard the door creek open. It startled him and his finger traveled all the way to the image of Piandao. He hid his hand that had wet paint behind him as the artist and Piandao entered room.

"Here it is," the painter said proudly. "What do you think"

The swordsman examined the canvas and squinted at a portion of the image. Then he asked. "What exactly is Prince Iroh doing to me"

The painter's eyes widened in horror seeing that his masterpiece had been tampered with.

"I am terribly sorry sir," he apologized, before leaving to get paint remover. "I'll fix that right away."

Iroh was relieved that he hadn't been caught red handed. He decided to leave before he was found out. He waved farewell to Piandao and went off to the royal kitchen for a snack.

Piandao was a very observant man. He noticed the paint on Iroh's finger. He had known Prince Iroh for a long time, and knew that Prince Iroh was always very subtle and sneaky when it came to expressing his true feelings.