Oh my God, it's done.
Inspired by a link to the spatial history of trapdoors in
this post. Eames is ambushed and roughed up in his own dream. Arthur and his RAGE come to the rescue. You can tell it’s Eames’ dream, because the projections are giant paisley monsters. This only serves to feed Arthur's RAGE.
Detail of Arthur. Because I thought the whole point of this art was to draw attention to the waistcoat, but it turned out to be the shoes.
Detail of battered Eames, just chillin' till his boy comes to take him home. 'Ah, Ferragamo wingtips. Knew you'd be along soon, darling.'