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Good afternoon, sir. My name is Tony Stark, but not many people are aware that; hold on, I need to step back for this.
Ahem, not many people are aware that...
I AM IRON MAN!
Hic... God, I love doing that. Black Sabbath ROCK! They wrote that song for me, y'know. Ozzy owed me a favour, cause I'm rich and stuff. Anyway, as you may have guessed, I am Iron Man, the world's greatest superhero. I know what you're thinking, sir. You're thinking, "what could this handsome fellow possibly have that would make him the greatest superhero in the world?" Well, I'll tell what I have; more cash, scratch, stacks. Cabbage cheddar and clam stew with a side of dough.
You like my suit? Neato, isn't it? It's got, like, rockets, and flight stabilizers, and bullets that can bend around corners or something. You know what the best thing of all is? Check this out, it's gonna blow your fucking mind! Underneath this titanium-gold alloy mask... is a beer dispenser. A fucking beer dispenser. Isn't that great... yeah. So, how much can I sell this to ya?
You want to sell me your costume?
A costume? This is so much more than a costume. This is a machine of death, my friend. No longer will you have to put up with rush hour traffic, finding a parking space, or airport security. With this suit, you will become the most powerful man in America. It served me well before, and now I want to pass it on to you.
Why? Why? Are you dense or something? The world's greatest entrepreneur calls on your front door offering to grant you, for a small nominal fee, the powers of a superhero, and you ask why? Screw it, I bet I can get a better offer from that Iranian family across the street.
Hold on, I never said I wasn't interested. I'm just curious about it. Where did you get it?
I didn't "get it", man. I made it with my own goddamn hands. Check this out; I was rolling through the desert in Iraq one day, doing a demo to sell these nuclear warheads to the American Military, when out of nowhere these Al-Qaeda looking motherfuckers ambush us. I'm embarrassed to say... I was captured. But not without a fight. I managed to take down fifty of them, before they launched a nuclear warhead into my chest. After that, I kind of passed out, and everything went hazy for a while.
It's a long story, but basically, me and this other scientist were ordered to build those filthy terrorists a new nuclear weapon. Osama Bin Laden himself, put a gun to my face and ordered me to design his weapons of mass destruction. I agreed, but only so I could buy enough time to create this suit and break my ass out of there.
What happened to the other scientist?
We were close to finalizing production on the suit, when Osama Bin Laden realised what we were up to. He sent some men to come and check on us. I pleaded with him to put on the suit and get it ready, while I created a distraction, but he told me "No, Tony Stark. You must put on the suit, for you are better than me, and I would gladly give my life to help you escape." I begged him to stay, but he ran off, and was killed. It was on that day, that I burned Osama bin Laden to death, and vowed to uphold American freedom...
Wow... What an emotional story... Wait, isn't Osama Bin Laden still alive?
What? No, he's not.
I'm pretty sure I saw him on the news a few days ago.
Well, in case you never noticed, what the news reports and what really happens are never the same thing. Now, are you going to buy the suit or not, because I have plenty of other customers who would be more than happy to pay double of what I would accept from you.
Well, sell it to them.
I already told you, I can't. In case the detonation of one of my missiles has given you a concussion and you've forgotten; I am a superhero, and superheroes cannot allow their powers to fall in the wrong hands. I could sell it to the Armenian family across the street, but for all I know, they could be terrorists, man. Fucking terrorists! The same fucking terrorists who grafted an electromagnet onto my chest as a joke! That's why I want to sell it to you. I've only been on your doorstep for about 4 minutes, but I can already tell you're an upstanding citizen; one a superhero could easily rely on.
Yeah, I don't think you're actually a superhero.
What? I'm a total superhero!
Really? What superpower do you have?
Of course. So you must know martial arts, yeah?
Actually, I don't really know any martial arts either. I get most of my cardio done in the bed room.
Okay, but I bet you're really accurate with guns and stuff.
If you mean with the computer guided robot suit on, then yes. But if you mean with a pistol in a tuxedo, then no... Are you gonna buy it or not!?
I don't know. Why do you want to sell me it, again?
You are such a drag, man; do you need your babysitter to hold your hand while you sign the lease on this whip!? I already told you the reasons why, like, the second we started talking.
No, you didn't. All you did was have a go at me for asking, and then you threatened to leave.
Alright, I'll be honest with you. But only because you're my millionth customer! My company, Stark Industries, has been undergoing a slight reduction in terms of product synergy and profits, thanks to that Commie we have running the government at the moment. Normally, this would result in cutbacks on staff, but me being the genius that I am, came up with the idea of selling dunsel to dunces in order to create some extra revenue. I just want to save hardworking loyal workers from losing their jobs over seas. That's it. Honest, I just love serving my company, er, country.
Alright then. You seem to be a very desperate and lonely little man. Don't you have any family or friends.
I... errr... used to be best friends with my pal, Jim Rhodes, but then I gave him his own suit so he could be a superhero, but it only made him realise that I was a far better superhero than he could ever be, so he got super-pissed at me cause he's, like, jealous and stuff, and so he hasn't spoken to me since...
Okay, okay! I may have dropped the N-Bomb one too many times. What can I say, I like solving my partial differential equations to the sound of Gangster rap, they'll probably be buying my missiles in Compton someday soon. What am I supposed to say when he's replaced by a different actor? Have you seen what Hulk does when you mention Ed Norton!?
Probably something not racist...
Meh. I'm a genius superhero scientist playboy, not a diplomat, goddamn it. So what if he didn't like the pay cut, and the armor was an oven; at least I didn't make him wear tights or serve me tea like some billionaire superheroes.
How about any girlfriends?
Errrmmm... my last one, Pepper Potts...
Pepper Potts?!?! What kind of a name is that?
She also got super-jealous of my superhero identity and decided to leave me. Heh, what are the odds? Okay, I may have walked in on her shower-time once too many. I also accidentally left a video camera in her bathroom vent, which due to some random quantum fluctuation, was set to record. Or more likely, is that she caught a case of the jungle-fever, seeing as she left the same time as Rhody. Coincidence? I think not...
Wow, what are you, a therapist? A nun? Are you going to start charging me now or do you want a donation for the collection plate sister?
Goodbye, Mr. Stark.
PLEASE DON'T GO! I'M SORRY! I DON'T HAVE ANYWHERE ELSE TO GO. EVER SINCE THAT BARACK OBAMA CAME INTO POWER, ALL THE LIBERALS AND ANTI-WAR HIPPIES HAVE BEEN TRYING THEIR FUCKING HARDEST TO DESTROY MY WEAPONS COMPANY. I TOLD THEM WHEN I CAME BACK THAT I WAS GOING TO MAKE SURE THEY DIDN'T GET INTO THE WRONG HANDS, BUT THEY JUST WANT TO KEEP TAKING AND TAKING AND TAKING! PLEASE BUY THE SUIT, I'M BEGGING YOU! MY HEART IS ABOUT TO STOP BEATING! I'LL GIVE IT TO YOU ALL RIGHT NOW FOR JUST 5 MINUTES WITH A POWER SOCKET OR SOME DOUBLE A BATTERIES! PLEASE!
Well, I have been meaning to replace the minivan, I suppose I could take it for a quick test drive. Besides, I could always just auction it off to 3rd world dictators on EBay...... Hold on a second. Is this... This is made of cardboard!? I got ripped off!!! STARK!!! GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK!
Ha ha, fool! You honestly thought I would sell a peasant like you my power-armor?
But why, Iron Man? I thought you were a good superhero?
I wasn't lying before when I told you my company was flat lining faster than my shrapnel filled heart. It appears that the current president is unwilling to support Iron Man: something about becoming synonymous with a faceless killing machine dehumanizing the image of our troops, like a bunch of Stormtroopers. And so, in response to this dying economy, I have taken on the mantle of the world's greatest super villain:
Indeed, friend, you have been duped by the world's greatest tin-can, con-man and entrepreneur! Don't feel too bad. You are but one of many in a long line of suckers born every minute! Many have been fooled, and none have left my presence without an empty wallet. Goodbye, sap! We will meet again!