In a dim basement, somewhere in Las Vegas. A single exposed bulb hangs over the machinery, while The Boss, sits on a stool, sipping a cool beer. The fan blows a light breeze across the room, while the two men are working with the heated equipment.

(The Boss yells) "Hey Mozart"

(Mozart: guy running hot stamp machine, looks up from his aligning and stamping efforts) "Ya, Bill"

(The Boss) "Toss one of those orange blanks in the machine while we're making these fake chips, we'll create some variations on a theme."

(Mozart) "Hey good idea, this will keep em guessing for years and years."

(The Boss) "I'll go down in history for my creative chip designs."