“No—. WHY? Banner? Banner did you throw up in my suit. You have the chips in there!” Oh man. Serves him right. His own little pack is filled with the essentials of good hygiene but there goes all of their munchies!

Thankfully, many are packaged. A little dunk in some soapy water—. Not that there appears to be any soapy water at all. Or maybe the occupants of this place are just morally opposed to it?

Hard to say.

Tony turns to frown, unseen behind the helmet, at his dearest friend.

“Okay hot-shot. Where do we—. Oh. Never mind. This way.”

Try not to throw up again?