Bemused, Chris takes the mirror without protest but he's too torn between staring at Ahkmenrah's elaborate ensemble and listening to the bustle out in the corridors to do a very good job holding it. He's probably holding it too low, in fact, and slightly skewed at an awkward angle.

"Uh," he says, and for a moment that's all he can manage.

Somewhere out there a monkey screeches, and Chris is almost sure he hears the clip-clop of a horse's hooves against marble flooring.

"Am I, like — am I gonna be in trouble if this place gets trashed?" he asks, although he knows the answer is yes. Of course he will. This is a museum — if things are broken, he'll probably have to spend the rest of his life paying for them.