Tony can’t help but fist bump some passersby sporting green paint powder and effigies. He’s easily swept up in these sorts of things but he does wipe his fist off on Banner’s garish robe. No one cares if that gets covered with grime and germs after all. He’s still grinning when he catches the look on Bruce’s face and he pulls him out of the lane of pedestrian traffic by a darkened stall.

Honestly, what’s with this place? There’s so much advanced technology and people still live in hovels and sell their wares like it’s the Middle Ages? He whole thing is just weird.

“Hey, you know what? Embrace this little bit of love. The reason doesn’t matter because that’s not you. And the Other Guy isn’t going to hear the chants and come bursting out of your chest to kick any more gladiator ass. It’s just you in there. Or as you as you can get when wearing... that. You know what, don’t worry about it. Focus on food. We have a lot to finish up before we can go home.”