Meanwhile, on Chant’s Helicarrier…

[Chant floats high above his carrier. Using the power of the Infinity Sock he is making major modifications to his Carrier. Random bits of metal and tubular objects fly from the horizon and attached themselves to the carrier. The Intern floats nearby.]

The Intern: *whistles*

Chant: Can you not do that?

The Intern: Of course… Master… Mayhem… Maker… Guy!

Chant: You know... you're boring me. If you’re going to ass-kiss you could at least be more entertaining about it… Let's see if we can't jazz you up a bit. *snaps his fingers*

[The power of the Infinity Sock changes the Intern with a bright fanciful fireworks-esque display. Smoke rolls amongst the clouds... and the Intern is changed...into a guy. Just your average, run-of-the-mill guy. That was anti-climactic, eh? The Intern has been replaced... by The Alarmingly Charming Biz Money!]

Biz: Whoa, awesome! It's just like in Transformers: The Movie, when Hot Rod got turned into Rodimus Prime and-

Chant: Uh, how about a little Spoiler Warning next time, huh?

Biz What? Oh come on, big guy. It's been what, 17 years? I think the Statute of Limitations on that has run out. Why don't you whip up a VCR when you've got a sec. Haha, am I right?

[Chant has nearly completed his work on the carrier. It is nearly doubled in size and seems to look more like large space ship.]

Biz: The place looks AWESOME, boss. When do I get the full tour? Also, do you think I could maybe add some cool flame decals to the side? *waits for reaction, of which there is none.* You know, like Hot Rod! It's a "callback," Oh Great Killer of All Things Good and Just!

Chant: Quiet, you.

[Silence sets in as Chant goes back to work. Biz squirms around, bored. You'd be bored too if you were floating out in the middle of space, right? What's that you wouldn't? Why? Oh, because you'd be FLOATING OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF SPACE!? Yeah. Agreed. But Biz is bored, nonetheless.]

Biz: Whatcha doin'?

Chant: I'm working on something.

Biz: Is it a space station?

Chant: Yes.

Biz: Need any help?

Chant: No.

Biz: Ya sure? I mean, hello, 5 semesters at Rocket Science school.

Chant: No.

Biz: Do you need, uh, can I get you like an Iced Tea or something then?

Chant: NO, I am FINE.

Biz: Hey, here's a random question that just popped into my head: How exactly do you get to "megalomaniac?" I mean where is that on the scale of "Evil Titles?" Like, is there a commission that reviews your work and stuff, or is it more self-anointed? If so, can I be Biz the Cruel and Unjust?

Chant: No.

Biz: Biz the Kitten Smasher?

Chant: No.

Biz: Am I annoying you? I mean, I'm not... you know, I'm just trying to help out. Do my part and stuff. Do you need me to like be your, uh, whattya call it? Tool spotter, or something? Like, you're all "Biz! Bring me my Phillip's Screwdriver!!!" and I'm all "Right away, Purveyor of Evil!" and then, as a joke, I bring you a mixed drink! Right, wouldn't that be the best?

Chant: No… it wouldn’t. I’m trying to work here.

Biz: You're awfully grumpy for someone who's TOTALLY about to take over the world. If I were in your shoes, I'd be, like, giddy. Actually, I'm kinda giddy now! You have NO idea how annoying it is to have "The" in your name. It's like... is my last name Intern? Is my first name "The?" It was HORRIBLE. And I think it really hurt my work performance, so I'm glad you-

Chant: Would you STOP. TALKING. NOW?

[Chant has now completed his space station. He and the much more entertaining version of the Intern(r-right?), glide into the hangar bay. The door swishes closed as the station lifts out of the atmosphere and rests into orbit around the earth. Biz looks around the huge open corridor, mouth agape in wonder.]

Biz: Wow, I'm almost speechless.

Chant: It's about ti-

Biz: This place is big enough to play, like... basketball in! And not just with rolled up paper and a waste basket, but like a real-life basket! Do you think I could draw in a key and a three-point line here with chalk? I think that'd really make an interesting conversation piece! I mean, it'd be the first thing you see! "Hi, welcome to my Death Palace Space Station, would you like to play a game of HORSE?" And the whole "in space" thing, would lead to some EXCITING slam dunks. Am I right? I'm TOTALLY right, right?

Chant: Why don't I just destroy you? Or... or blink you out of existence?

Biz: Because of my charm, O' Harbinger of Doom! I'm alarmingly charming!

Chant: I guess you're right... although, I can't imagine why. *sigh* Do you want a quick tour?

Biz: Do I!? That was a rhetorical question! Of COURSE I do!

[Chant begins to show his intrepid (and, erm, chatty) follower a tour of the massive base.]

Chant: And down there is the downstairs bathroom--no shower, just a toilet and sink. It's mostly for company, I figure. And if you go around the spiral staircase and past the Space Defibulator Death Ray, you'll actually get to the breakfast nook.

Biz: "In space, nobody can hear you eat Cocoa Krispies." Haha, get it? Like Alien? You know, the movie? That was, uh.. that was the tagline. Well, I mean.. not the thing about cereal, I made that up.

Chant: And past there... Into my Ultimate Control Room of Doom.

Biz: It's just like the Control Room of Doom we all know and love, but without all that complicated continuity! Choo Choo, all aboard the Reference Train, right? Haha. Can you keep up with me, Oh Great Doctor of Destruction?

Chant: Your references are lost on me, fool. I was too busy plotting to destroy the universe while you were apparently reading People Weekly.

Biz: More like People WEAKLY, right? As in People will WEAKLY cry when you smash them under your iron fist! Weakly. With an "A" instead of a "double-e."

Chant: You continue to speak and I continue to want to peel your face off, and yet... I find myself tolerating you. What have I created?

Biz: Isn't it awesome? I'm a hit at parties. Well, except with the ladies. The girls don't find me all that alarmingly charming, which... just figures. Fortunately, I have enough natural charisma to make up for it. *shrug* But that's my cross to bear, right?

Postal Robot #875: We have finished the patch to the robot known as TTT.

Postal Demon #3712: Actually… I think he’s an android.

Postal Robot #875: Whatever. It’s on the big screen, sir.

Biz: Hey, your robots are SASSY. I never noticed that before. And wow… is that a plasma screen? *starts turning dials* Psh. You can make gadgets that can do anything and all we have is basic cable. What's a Top Assistant to The Future Ruler of the Universe gotta do to get a little VH1 Classic up in here?

Chant: Finally! The end of the JLR is at hand… And I get to watch… *Chant wills a comfy chair into a existence just behind him and then takes a seat* I need popcorn.

[The screen comes into focusing and the foursome of Ace, Fused, Kaz and SMM stand defiantly in front of the prone Jay Orin. The two sides of the JLR converge on one another.]

Chant: This is wonderful!

Biz: Hey, what's up with that monkey guy? What's that about?

Chant: If you say ONE more word, I am tying you outside.

[Biz looks around the room at the postal minions as they operate the space station. After a few moments, he starts to tap his foot.]

Biz: *whistles*

Chant: Can you not do that?

Biz: Of course, Mayhem... Maker... Guy... Master.