This was it. Today is the day. The day of the speech. His speech. His wonderfully written speech. This will be broadcasted around over the world. Every city, every household, will hear it. So it better be a good speech.
Tony took a deep breath then stepped up onto the stage. Below him, fangirls from all over the world screamed. His beauty and brilliance shone upon them, lighting the ground up. The screaming grew when he cleared his throat.
"Wow, wow, wow, what a crowd!" He exclaimed. More screaming. He stood there and waited till the noise ceased. It was quite frightening the first time, but now that he's used to these high pitch yells, he knew their ways. Finally, the volume of the screeching was turned down a bit. He began again.
"I'm sorry to say but Steve won't be here today to do his speech, for he is gravely sick in bed," he paused to let it sink in. "So I'm here to substitute for him," more ominous screaming. He held up a hand, showing authority and the crowd below quieted down.
Raising his papers, he looked up cameras glaring down at him. "This, is for the America," he announced. A few more screams popping up here and there. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fury scrutinizing him, trying to dig out the tinniest mistake that he will make.
Don't worry Director, I'll be fine! He mouthed at the crossed armed man standing in the shadows. He wasn't sure whether Fury was more concerned about him or his speech but either way, he's got to make it all count.
He cleared his throat again. "Um, okay, so this speech is quite short, for I didn't have a lot of time to write it, so please sit back and enjoy these 20 seconds," he said. Soft laughter rose up from the horde of people like a soft breeze.
"Oh, and please don't take this all seriously," he mumbled. Another bout of short chortles. He hoped the crowd didn't think he was joking.
The papers in his hands stilled, and he placed his feet in a confident stance. Taking a deep breath, he began his speech.
"America," he declared, "what a country, what a country." A few wimpy cheers. This is it.
Suddenly, raising his fist in the air, he yelled, "We are America!" The audience applauded. Taking that as his que to continue, he proceeded on his elegant writing.
"We kick ass when every country's too afraid to do. We kick ass when every country doesn't want us to. We are America!" The clamor grew. From his peripheral vision, he saw Fury shaking his head. He continued anyway.
"We are bold and proud! We have things other countries do not have. We have Donald Trump and we're not afraid to wield him like a trophy, because we have him while other countries do not. We have nuclear weapons, the power, the money! We use Fahrenheit instead of Celsius, because C stands for communism, while F stands for freedom. Because we are America, the kingdom of freedom. We grew corn because we felt like it. We grew potatoes because we felt like it. We made french fries because we grew too many potatoes and we need to find a way to eat it in a more interesting way. Why? Because we are America. Why did we grow corn? Because we are America. Why do we have Donald Trump? Something to do with corns. Why don't we have hockey sticks? Because we're not Canada dimwitt."
The horde grew crazy.
"We may be idiots, but we are surprisingly clever, at horrible times. We are America, the bold and proud, the idiots yet the lions because every time when other countries are in danger, we're here to save their butts."
Shouts of agreement spiraled around the air.
"And the question why?" Tony asked, not really caring for an answer. "It's because we are America, the bold and proud, and no other country, will be the same like us!"
The auditorium exploded.
"America! America!" Chanted the people.
"Thank you! Thank you!" Tony took a few professional bows. And out of the edge of his vision, he could see Nick Fury's one eye twitching madly.
"What did you do that for!?" Fury roared as Tony walked past him. Tony stopped in mid-step and turned to look at him from down to bottom.
"Cause' we're America sir," he winked at him, adopting a typical American girl style. Then with a turn on his heel, the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, walked down the hall.