Somehow, reliving his twenties just isn’t the sort of thing he’s prepared to do, despite having masterminded the software and virtual reality glass to let him do just that. This isn’t a hologram though. It’s not playing back an emotional trauma made right in the hours before the deaths of his parents. He lightly touches his smooth cheek and then drops his hand to head back to the toilet.

He’s noping out right now, hard, both because he can’t bring himself to deal with it right now and because he really has to pee. His bladder is way too full and he’s starving and he’s pretty sure his brain is going to explode with ideas thanks to rejuvenated synapses.

As the sound of a healthy stream of twenty-something year old’s urine hits the water in the bowl, Tony murmurs to himself half intelligibly. His forehead rests against his forearm as he leans it on the tile over the toilet.

“This place is too weird. And you want people to vacation here? No. Absolutely not,” he says as he finally speaks up.

Okay. He’s yelling.