#* tony

     “Superhero name. If you had to pick one. Answers on a postcard.”

     “Movie night. Really.” Really. “You want to watch a movie. With me.” Her eyes narrow. “Which one.”

     “Hey. How old are you, two? Don’t touch that, that’s, it’s very, it’s,” for fuck’s sake, “Jar, will you lock the fucki- the freaking computer so grubby little mitts can’t touch it.”      ( “Yes, ma’am.” )      “See. Now look what you’ve done. Locked the computer.”

     “Interesting.” Very interesting. The thing is: “I. Maybe wasn’t paying attention to you for the last,” she sucks in a breath, “fifteen minutes? I zoned out when you started talking about I think the multiverse. But I caught that bit just now about maybe dipping out for some lunch? Which is interesting. To me. And my stomach.”

     “I’m dead inside. Good news is, so are you, judging by the look on your face. So I guess we have that in - common.” Kurtz is an interesting guy but boy are his speeches boring. And long. And completely impossible to parse.

     “Hey champ. You sneaking or is that just how you walk? No judgement but your gait’s kinda got a whole – escaped convict vibe going on.”

     “But that’s just not possible. It’s, it’s, it’s literally impossible. And the longer I’m thinking about it the more convinced I am that there’s no way in hell you’re actually saying this to my face in that absolutely confident tone because you know you’re lying, I know you’re lying, Jarvis knows you’re lying, and the whole world will know you’re lying if you ever decide to make this public.” Tony leans back in her seat, satisfied, and adds for that final one-two punch: “There’s no way you won your first ever game of backgammon. Not possible.”