He watched with glee as the guests all scrambled to escape the room as he – in his old duck car – rose to the surface. They hadn't expected him to return. A pity…for them, perhaps.

But not for him.

"You didn't invite me," Penguin began, "SO I CRASHED!"

The guests that stayed were oddly quiet, as if they actually wanted to hear what he had to say. So he continued.

"Right now, my troops are fanning out across town, for your children!" Penguin roared. "Yes - for your first-born sons! The ones you left helpless at home, so you could get juiced on Max's Shreggnog, and dress up like jerks, and dance…badly!"

And he had personally come for Max's own son, Chip. But just as he was about to drag him into the duck, Max came to his son's rescue, practically begging that he take Chip instead.

If Max had any weaknesses, it was his son. He would do anything for his son.

And Max did bring up a few good points; he did want Max to suffer for manipulating him.

And he would suffer.