Tony, Tony

FIVE

"Yo ho ho, and a bottle of syrup!" Tony was positively drunk with maple-y goodness. And... well. You know.

"Eat, drink, and be merry, Pepper! For together, we dine!" Tony shoveled another pancake into his mouth and smiled over at his pepper grinder.

"What's that? You're not feeling well? You want to go home?" Stark swallowed hard. A bit of sausage scraped down his throat--painfully. You know how that goes. "WHY CAN'T YOU LET ME HAVE THIS ONE THING? THIS ONE BIT OF BACON, AND THIS PANCAKE? AND MAYBE EVEN THIS BANANA, PEPPER? Yes, I know I'm causing a scene! And I won't lower MY VOICE."

He slammed a fist on the table, knocking the grinder off balance and causing it to plunge into an unsuspecting bowl of grits. At that moment, Tony had a sudden change of heart... and the early stages of heartburn.

"Oh, Pepper, please forgive me." All signs of rage fell from his face, except the worry lines the plastic surgeon said nothing could be done about. "Here. Let me help." He wiped the bits of grits off the pepper grinder while the lunch crowd at Denny's looked on, ready to dial 911 if things got any weirder.