Tony’s face goes through a remarkable transformation in the span of just a few seconds. It expresses all sorts of things like: ‘wow, man, that hurts’ to ‘oh great, now I’m a fungus’ to ‘thank you, I love you too,’ to ‘what the hell, not my suit!’ It might even have been comical if life and death aren’t literally on the line right now. He opens his mouth to likely make a comment about the armor when the living brick does as its told and the suit Bruce had worn through the anus spills its contents all over the floor.

“Aw,” Tony says, though Bruce can likely tell he’s heartbroken. “My chips.”

“Only garbage. No sweet meats. And no credits either,” the brick laments, kicking through the packaged snacks like a really weird piñata. The armor is in ruins on the floor, jagged like a can opener. “But the Grandmaster left his things behind. Throw these two out and help me gather the goods, Z!”

Tony’s head whips around. “I really hate being thrown off of penthouses!” Zero doesn’t seem to care what Tony wants, though, because one moment there are three people on the balcony, and the next, the grows on you fungus is gone.