"Darnit, Tenna..." he mutters to himself. "...we need some EXCITEMENT! Like a convention, or... a GRAND PRIZE...." He snaps his fingers, straightening up. "That's it! A GRAND PRIZE!! Now, what would it be..." He drifts off again, his thoughts consuming him. While deep in thought, he absentmindedly buzzes his assistant, Battat. "Hey, Bat?" he asks the green pippin.

"Yeah?" There's random gambling noises audible in the background.

Tenna clears his throat.

"Reach out to some of the local businesses and see if any of them would be willing and able to sponsor a GRAND PRIZE for the show, will you?"

Battat seems to sigh through the phone.

"Sure, boss, but could I-" Tenna hangs up before he can finish.

"...Gosh, I love my employees."

Battat, from in the green room, pushes his chair back with exasperation.

"Sorry guys, duty calls," A few pippins groan and toss their cards. "Tenna wants me to make some calls." He stalks out of the room, grumbling about his boss.

Tenna's been staring at the ceiling in his office for what seems like hours. He notices there's a paint chip that's kind of shaped like a lightning bolt, but before he can investigate further- His phone rings. He picks up the reciever and leans back in his chair. It's Battat, back with a response.

"Boss, I got one. A sponsor, I mean." Tenna's antennae perk up.

"Great, who?"

"Big Shot Autos. You know, that car company?"

"Amazing."

"Yeah. They said we could meet up to discuss-" Tenna interrupts him.

"PERFECT, when?" Battat groans through the phone.

"I was JUST getting to that, but they said either 3:30 this afternoon or 6pm next Wednesday."

"I'll take 3:30."

"Boss, you've got a meeting with the-"

"Cancel it, they'll understand." Battat seems to be panicking.

"You can't just- It's a very important-"

"Just did." Tenna hangs up. "...A car company, eh?" He mutters to himself. "...Could be good."