The Sculptor was half-blinded by glass, but after the accident, he requested a glass eye, which he covered with an eye patch. He was told by his doctor to take it easy, but he went bodysurfing later that day. Lacking depth perception, he misjudged a wave, slipped, and injured himself yet again. The end result was limited use of his dominant arm.
The Sculptor could no longer sculpt on his own, so he hired a team to sculpt for him. Lacking his dominant arm and depth perception, the team needed to interpret his meaning from charcoal drawings he constructed by holding a pack of charcoal crayons and swirling them around a page. The results had made The Sculptor nothing short of famous.
Now an aisle separated him and one member of that team who had gone onto personal success. The Sculptor Cyclops zeroed in on his once protege, his jowls looking ready to take a bite. His attorneys had submitted into evidence photos of the sculptures that The Protege had evidently copied. It was an elaborate glass chandelier. They then showed a photograph of a recent sculpture by The Protege.
The Protege’s attorneys looked on amused. They held up the blueprint for the original sculpture. It consisted of a smudged charcoal line waving along the side of the page and a stick figure with an eye patch holding onto the line and smiling.
The Sculptor’s lawyers told him to ignore it, and that it would never hold up legally, but The Sculptor knew what it meant for his career if the media found out: Apocalypse Now. The horror, the horror.