Another glimpse of Honey's escalating professional life reveals further evidence of her remarkable talent: this time, instead of a group of thugs pretending to jump rope under the freeway, Honey's vision for the Tweet's video is a daring combination of Peter Pan and Rollerball. Considering her method of inspiration, it is probably safe to assume Honey went back to that chain link fence and watched Peter Pan himself flying through the ghetto, before turning her head slightly to imitate some urban teens competing on a neighborhood Rollerball court.

Interestingly, Honey's conceptual ambition for this video appears to have overshadowed her developing skills in actual choreography as well as counting. Armed with her trusty megaphone, Honey counts off, "1, 2, 3, fly!" which is neither a legitimate command nor what anyone actually does. In fact, the dancers here swing back and forth like pendulums while the Tweet is slowly lowered to the ground with limbs stiffly outstretched, despite Honey's previous demonstration and instruction to "just work your arms."

In the interest of narrative flow and plot development, Honey spends a full minute showing us the Tweet's amazing music video. Featured in this video are several examples of Honey's dynamic and evolving choreography:

• the Tweet descending to the ground in fixed position
• women in red vinyl catsuits spinning in circles
• men in rubber shorts standing completely still

Once again, we see that Honey is so talented that in addition to coming up with these incredible dance moves, she is directing the entire video herself; Michael, as usual, kicks back to engage in some text messaging, though he does take a moment to fire Raymond for not taking notes on the shoot. Honey's assurance to Raymond that Michael is joking seems dubious, considering how out of touch he is with anything going on around him. Indeed, an 8-year-old PA is probably the least surprising thing he might see upon finally looking up from his T-Mobile Sidekick, unless they were from an alien race or in a flying car.

The subject of Benny's troubled life surfaces once again as he tells Honey that nothing good ever happens to him. If there is one thing we have learned from Honey, however, it is that attitude is everything; Honey, for example, maintains a pleasant outlook and a sunny smile on her face 24 hours day. As a result, Honey manages to live in the ghetto without anything bad ever happening to her, waiting for lavish success to fall in her lap, which it totally does. Benny, on the other hand, makes fun of the Centah and has terrible eyelines, so it is only fitting that he ends up dealing drugs and getting smacked around. Fortunately, just by virtue of standing in the presence of Honey's optimism, Benny's busted lip has completely healed since last night.

Although he is distinctly terrible at his own job, Michael should at least be credited for giving Honey creative room to breathe, and even taking an interest in her two young friends: "What are they, Fresh Air Fund kids or something?" Honey shoots back with a zingy rejoinder, "Fresh air? Michael, this is New York!" leading the viewer the question why Honey's diegetic soundtrack fails to include canned laughter. Regardless, these kids' moves would work in any city, as Honey reminds Michael that "their flavah's hot." And with Michael convinced on this issue, Honey takes on yet another job as Michael's casting director.