Exactly one year later at the Shibuya's house in Tokyo, Yuuri was chasing Murata Ken around, Morgif in hand.

"I'll get you for this Murata! I'll have you beheaded! No! I'll behead you myself! Come back here you insufferable old hermit!" Yuuri bellowed as he chased the Great Sage whose soul was in the nineteen-year-old body of Murata Ken, his erstwhile classmate and seemingly, also his former, well, make that VERY VERY former friend.

Murata just kept laughing though, even as Yuuri bounded after him menacingly, swinging Morgif's sharp blade at his head and always just barely missing. "I don't know what you are talking about, Shibuya! Wolfram merely wanted to borrow MY digital video camcorder to make wedding pictures because he can't paint for beans but it was your idea to make Shin Makoku's first-ever porn flick on your wedding night!"

Wolfram heard the Sage's comment about his artistic capability and drew his saber as well. Up until then he had been a good sport about the film Murata chose to give them as his anniversary present, but that insult was one step too far. Wolfram beckoned to his husband, "Hold him up, wimp! I'll go around the back, then we'll catch him in the front yard and slaughter him!"

Yuuri shot back, "I am not a wimp, honey! But okay! You round him up the back!"

Amused by the goings-on, Conrad just shook his head and just replayed the DVD in the living room where the party had left him. Gwendal and Gunter had made a fuss about something "important" and had headed back to Shin Makoku through the kiddie pool. One would have to be lobotomized not to know where those two will be after all this – back in Wolfram's old room.

The End. Maybe.