Tony loved fine, aged scotch. He could taste the difference between really stupidly expensive wines and cheap table wines - usually. But there were times when all he wanted was a cheap beer; pouring a glass and kicking feet up on top of a completed project on his desk had to be with beer.
But the project wasn't over yet. He'd gotten cleaned up, more or less, though there was nothing to be done about the trashed shirt and pants, but that didn't matter when he drove right back in to tweaking arming protocols.
Rhodey's presence, therefore, was greeted with an absent wave of his hand. "Give it to Dummy-" who rolled up to Rhodey with his claw opening and closing hopefully - "And c'mere." He sat back, and his fingers danced over the keyboard. The various components rose up and moved together into a heavily armored and armed suit of armor, dull gray and silver to Tony's red and gold.