Archibalds balled fist swung out from behind his back and opened up, only to strike open handed across his sons face - hard enough to sting and perhaps draw blood - though it showed great restraint not remaining balled into a fist. "Watch your tone with me, boy." He practically spits the last word out. "I don't need anyone REMINDING me about anything! You pompous ass!" This time he does spit the last word, a wad of spit landing on the balcony. "Who do you think I am? Making suggestions that you know I will reject? Perhaps I have been wrong all alone and my heir-apparent is really a half-wit!" He shakes his head in disgust.