I get to spend the rest of this life

in a Hungarian prison for destruction of art.

That's fun.

- Destruction of extremely derivative art.

Kamilah's work has been mediocre for years.

Mother and Father are probably rolling over

in their cryogenic chambers.

- Really? You don't think they would be proud of her

for having a whole museum wing dedicated to her work?

- My parents' standards were incredibly high,

and they were impossible to please.

Plus, they always pitted

my sister and me against each other.

The two of them were a unit,

and Kamilah and I...

[epiphanic music]

♪

- Girls, we have a new challenge for you.

- Each of you has four hours to complete a rendering

of your favorite moment in French military history.

- The winning painting shall be hung in our foyer

during our party honoring Francois Mitterrand.

- The losing paining shall provide the kindling

for the fire that rages in our hearth

during that party.

[laughs] Doesn't that sound wonderful?

- Yes, Mother, it does.

- Thank you for this opportunity.

- Who will be the winning artist,

and who will fail?

Let's find out.

[serious music]

♪

- These paintings...

they're us.

- You're the boobs?

Sorry. Once Jason said it, that's all I can see.

♪

- Here we go.

What?

Tahani, what are you doing? Stop it.

- No. I'm going to hug you because I love you

and because you feel just as alone as I do.

I'm sorry our parents were such wankers.

And I understand that you can't accept my apology

because that would quench your creative thirst.

They forced us to compete,

and that competition has fueled your art for decades.

It's so awful, and I'm so sorry.

♪

[sighs]

- [sighs] They were wankers, weren't they?

- Ah! The absolute biggest wankers on Earth.

♪

- Let them go, please.