“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m sorry for,” he spoke sarcastically, sticking his tongue out at his friend. “I’m good at this apocalypse business. Maybe we can be super villains instead of superheroes. They have cooler gadgets anyway,” he pointed out, pretending to be aiming a laser gun. “Laser guns and shark tanks and atomizers…plus their bases are always like two thousand times more awesome than any superhero’s,” he added, momentarily serious, except he was pretty sure that he and Rory would make lousy super villains. They were too nice. “Or at least we can be superheroes with cool gadgets and an awesome base,” he amended.
Smirking when Rory chastised him for his weak terrorist skills, he raised a shoulder in a shrug. “I like to shoot high,” he pointed out. “That way, even if I only get a fraction of what I demand, it’s still awesome,” he paused and turned to look at Rory, a silly smile on his face. “You’re right, though. I’d probably make a pretty sorry excuse for a terrorist. What terrorist, that you can think of, is anything like me?” None, that was what one.
That was Eisen’s personal goal; not being predictable. If he’d known that he’d achieved it right then, he would have been doubly smug, but as it was, Chinese food was a reasonably decent reward, especially when you had no idea you’d won. “Not even if I make a pouty face? You like it more than I do, anyway,” he pointed out as he fished through his pocket for his phone to dial the Chinese restaurant. “I figured you wouldn’t. Besides, we’ve been talking about changing it up and ordering Chinese. What better night than tonight?” he asked, right before dialing the restaurant and placing their order – plus a couple of their other favorites. They’d go halves, just as they always did.