The scene shifts to a tall New York building.

  Suddenly, its top is obliterated as a massive object crashes through, creating a crater below.

  A chopper slowly flies into view.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” remarks the President as he stands on the chopper’s arm handle, surveying the crater.

  Below, a man slouched in the crater—his back turned in a Yamcha-like pose—wears a cape embzoned with the word “ancient.”

  As the chopper descends, the President hops out.

  The man slowly turns and, with a pained ugh, says, “I may have spun a little too fast when I swung that asteroid. I’m just resting my eyes… I’m really sorry about the building, though.”

  The President, gncing back at the demolished structure, demands, “Just who are you?”

  The man looks confused. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m a hero. You can call me Ancien-t.”

  Almost immediately, the man passes out.

  Kuroda’s eyes widen with sparkles as Samberg scratches his head in confusion. “So, Mr. President, what do you want to do?”

  “Isn’t it obvious, Samberg? Apparently, the world now has a hero. Let’s make sure we take care of him.”The camera pans upward, transitioning to the next scene.