Intellectual Property (Most Characters) Belongs to Marvel
Fool's Gold
1.
"Don't be so harsh on the lad!" A booming voice let out so loud that it could be heard all the way across the million-dollar penthouse. Two men stand next to each other, one wearing the finest of Armani suits, the second wearing an armor-vest. A woman argues with them near the top of Stark Tower. A small boy is busy playing with a toy airplane, failing to notice the shouting-match that is going on a few feet away. "He doesn't know when to quit!"
"Don't tell me what he should and should not do!" The woman screeched back.
"I'll tell you what I should do…" The second man muttered.
"You shut your mouth, you pompous gin-infested rat!" The woman's voice echoed throughout the halls
"Gin? Please lady, I clearly prefer scotch with my… well, everything." The second man slurred as he gulped down the last swallow of his drink. "Oh, and who are you to tell me how to raise…" He paused. "My… son…?" He jolted a sly smile.
"The boy's mother!" She snarled. "I'll have YOU know, that if you were half as good of a father as you are a weapons-tycoon, then you wouldn't be in this mess, now would you?! The tabloids are right. Expect a call from my lawyer!"
The woman grabs her son by the collar of his blue denim jacket and pulls him behind her. His small legs shuffle behind her as they make their way out the front door, which she slams behind them.
"Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out." The second man set his scotch on the table. "I think that went well."
"Tony, you really need to stop doing that." The first replied, grasping his mug of mead and swigging away at it. "For all we know, she may… what do you call it? Sue you?"
"Stark Enterprises deals with over 40 cases a week. Hobos who get shot at with my ammunition, police officers who shoot at hobos with my guns, and they all place blame on me." He pauses and takes a drink. "What's another paternity suit? Besides, I wanted to know if he was mine or not. And… well, clearly he isn't." Tony looks at his watch.
"Oh?" the second man questioned as Tony sets his beverage down and opens the screen door to the patio outside.
"Well first off, I've never met that woman in my life. Secondly, he doesn't look anything like me… and thirdly… well, thirdly…"
"He was an African-American child."
"Correct." Tony picks his scotch back up. "More mead, Thor?" he asks, pouring more of the liquor into a large mug, as if reading the god's mind.
"Yes, my boy." Thor pauses. "Why, perchance, invite them up if you knew that he was not your child?"
Tony stood there. He glimpsed at the beautiful skyline of New York City. Numerous thoughts ran through his mind. He looks down at the deep amber drink.
"Why not?" he laughs and takes another sip of his scotch.
Thor rolls his eyes. Both Thor and Tony look out at the skyline, and share a sigh. Tony turns around and sits in a luxurious chair, draped with the finest Wakandan fabrics and laced with gold thread. "Join me, my friend." Tony motions for Thor to sit down in the matching chair next to him. "It's not everyday that I get to drink with a god."
Thor nods and sits down. "In Valhalla, the Einherjar drink and feast with my father on a daily basis. After the fighting, of course."
"Wait…" Tony looks at Thor with a serious face. "There is a place where they do nothing but eat, drink, and fight all day long?"
Thor nods. The slight wind blows his golden hair into his face.
"Do they have timeshare memberships? To hell with that, I could buy the entire place!" Tony says sarcastically.
Thor raises an eyebrow and slowly turns his head towards the billionaire industrialist. "Valhalla is not a place for mere mortals, my friend."
"I knew it sounded too good to be true. You and your imaginary far-away lands." Tony laughs. "You know, this has been a good night."
"It's about to get a whole lot better." A voice came from behind them.
Tony and Thor look back to see the shining red, white, and blue of Steve Rogers, Captain America.
"By the gods! How long have you been there, Steven?" Thor looks at Captain America and stands up.
"Don't look too surprised." Captain America pauses for a moment. "We've got work to do."
"I am not one bit surprised." Tony looks at the Captain and gives a smirk. "You've become a bit lazy. You've been on my property for better part of twenty-one… going on twenty-two minutes now. You should have just knocked. All the science in the world can create the perfect human specimen, but you can't inject common courtesy there, Steve-o."
"Oh, Tony. You don't think I did that by accident, do you?"
"Might be your old age." Tony sets down the remains of what was his full glass of scotch, and pours another. "Drink?"
"Seventy years young." The captain flexes. "No thank you. You know Alcohol does nothing to me. Scotch tastes terrible anyway." Captain America looks at Thor. "Down it, Stark. Wasp detected a meteorite of some sort that will be landing around Trenton, and I want us to take a look."