One fateful evening in Columbus, Ohio, as I tried ever so valiantly to relax and not chase a little green hobgoblin around the Buckeye State, Tony Starch, Mash Smith (AKA the 11th Doctor,) and The Dark Tater were having a chat.
Tony: “So, what do you fellas say to grabbing a drink to ring in the New Year?”
Mash: “A banana daiquiri does sound good…”
Dark Tater: “Black coffee. I live the night. I am the night. I protect-“
Tony: “The night. We get it, Bat Boy.”
When up on the roof, there arose such a clatter, they ran from their corner of the table to see what was the matter!
They huddled together in tense anticipation, waiting for another sound, another clue to see if it was friend or foe. “Maybe it was just old Saint Nick, chaps! Dropping in for a belated visit! I do hope he got me that pony from my list.”
“Look, he must have dropped some candy for our stockings!”
“Doctor, I don’t know if this is such a good idea…”
“Hello, boys. Remember me?”
“Loki of Asgard! I haven’t seen you since you were a pup. Big fan of your work, misguided as it is. I know you mean well. And brilliant trick you have there, falling through jagged rifts in space and coming out breathing on the other end.”
“But I must apologize, where are my manners! I’m the Doctor, in case the face confused you. And I simply can’t let you continue with whatever terrible plan you have cooking in that frosty skull of yours.”
“Back off, Doc. If anyone’s taking this guy down, it’s me.”
“Oh, Mr. Stark. Such a treat to see you again. And you already have your suit on this time. How convenient for you, since your Hulk isn’t here to save you.”
“Look. I don’t want to hurt you. But you’re too big of a pain in the ass. If you have anything funny planned, you better drop it now. Or you’ll have me, an alien madman, and Chuckles back there to deal with.”
“Oh, I don’t think you three will be much of a problem. I’ve brought a few friends of my own.”
“And last, but not least…”
“Hello Dah-lings. NO CAPES!”
Let the games begin.