Christine gives him a once over and smiles a little, “you really don’t believe in the soul mate thing? Come on, I’m sure you have a phrase. Test it on him,” she says, nodding at a tall, attractive Asian guy headed their way. Tony sighs and decides to humor her because it never works- she’s not the first to test his theory.
“Cockthistle thundercunt,” he says as soon as the poor bastard he’s testing this on gets close enough to hear. Imagine his intense surprise when he gets an offended noise of frustration.
“You made me walk around with cockthistle thundercunt on my body my whole life- you have no idea how embarrassing that is!” he snaps.
Tony was pretty sure there was a ghost living out its afterlife in his kitchen. He thought it must have moved in approximately two Thursdays ago, and it seemed to really enjoying cooking - especially Italian - and crappy Chinese takeout. It also seemed to be very friendly, as it always left a note that said something along the lines of ‘for my generous host’ or ‘leftovers are Tony’s, NO ONE EAT’ on top of the food.
“What,” Tony says softly but with a great depth of feeling, “the actual fuck just happened?”
“I believe, Sir,” JARVIS pipes up from the phone in his pocket, an unnecessary amount of what sounds like glee in his voice, “that you’ve once again managed to maintain your closely guarded secret identity. Truly your subterfuge skills know no bounds."
“You’re an asshole J,” Tony mutters back as he reaches up to rub at his temple. He either has a headache coming on or a blood clot. At this point he’s honestly not sure which he’d prefer.
"I did learn from the best, Sir,” JARVIS tells him sunnily.