Tony looked across the broken mirror and sighed as the expensive scotch began to disappear into the expensive carpet. “Now you gone… gone too… jus’ like Clint… Wanda… Bruce… Hank… an’ Steve.” Tony knelt down and pretended he was picking up the broken glass, trying to get a little of the scotch on his fingers, hoping to lick himself clean. The door shattered open with a visible TSSSH

“Whoozat?” Tony stumbled backward, clutching at his 70’s style briefcase. “Tony, it’s me!” said the intruder. “It’s the AlcoHawk Precision Breathalyzer! You created me for just this moment!”

Tony grinned the grin of a warrior as he opened his case and grabbed his iron mask.

“Tony, don’t you recognize me? I’m AlcoHawk! I have an electronic airflow sensor designed to take a deep lung sample to accurately determine your blood alcohol level! I was designed to be extremely portable resulting in a handy way to measure your BAC when you are out drink-ARRRRRGH!” AlcoHawk fell backwards, the victim of a repulsor ray to the body. “I’ll teach… YOU! Teach you to… tell me I can’t… want… a hot dog!” Tony slurred, his intent forgotten, and he sent the neurotronic commands to his rocket boots, forcing them to fire in such a way that the exhaust noise sounded like Foreigner’s “Jukebox Hero”.

“Oh! This!! This is!! My!! Song!! Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop!!” The AlcoHawk stood still, ready for anything. Tony pointed into the air. “With starrrrs in his eyesssss!”

The AlcoHawk stepped forward. “Tony. I am your friend. I have an four digit LED display and a molded grip. I can take a reading of any exhale over five seconds. I have one easy-to-find button as a controller. Please, Tony. Let me help you.”

Tony looked the AlcoHawk in the face. “Do you… do you ‘member what it was like before a bunch’a writers went into a field they clearly hic hated?”

The AlcoHawk looked back, understanding and sad. “They retconned that, Tony. It’s always been this way.”

And with a slow, drunken nod, Tony took off his helmet and began to cry.

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