"Is it? I just figured it'd be convenient for the bar." No one could have called Tony an expert in anything literary. His education had probably been more thorough than that of many children raised here, but only because his father had been so eager to indulge (and press, and force, and lean on, and squeeze completely dry) his enthusiasm and aptitude for certain sciences. The last time he'd read an actual book had probably been ... well, long enough that he'd have had to think about it pretty hard. His cultural literacy - outside of contemporary art, which was more an entree into social functions than something to appreciate for its own sake - was pretty thin. "You know, no need to walk all the way to the kitchen for that next twist. Whatever. I'll find something big. Give me just a second."
He dropped himself heavily into his chair, drawing the synthesizer to himself and flipping it carefully upside down. After spending a few seconds hooking it up to the much larger tablet screen propped in a frame on the table - his main work station - he pulled up a long, intricate code file to make adjustments. If someone else somehow got their hands on the thing and started playing around with it in its calendar form, it wouldn't do to have it turn back to its true function by some unhappy accident.
He turned the screen to Jarvis, cursor blinking in the appropriate position. "Pick a passcode." And then, peering at him around the edge of it, rolling his chair back a little: "You know my middle name's Edward, right?"