There was a working theory there, their mysterious powers had to have something to do with how even keel they all were, or maybe that was the childhood conditioning. Tony was tapping at the air, tracing a web of smoke from between his fingers, like he was running the numbers and working the humour-as-telekinesis concept, and started to chuckle again with a baffled wrinkle of his nose to ask, "What's 'Beej'?," like this was the weak data point in the study.

It wasn't clear who the guy might have meant was the comedian, but it was quickly and exhaustingly obvious that this was another one from a world without the superheros Tony thought were holding the place together, making him start to huff a sigh of frustration but ending up slouching against the bar in contemplation. It was endlessly possible that the world did not end without Captain America in it. It definitely didn't feel right, and Tony's instinct was to resent this guy and everyone else who had no idea who Cap was outright for this failure, but he took a deep breath and stared at his mocking bottle again. "Mysterio, he tells people to call him Beck, you can't miss him. Stupid green tights," he muttered, then tipped his head toward the bartender who appeared again around the corner, carrying another one of the bottles that sat before them. "What about one of those? Could use the energy around Temba. Liven the place up. Kidnap-machine's a little bigoted."