"Mhm," Tony agreed in lieu of a response. He was working on analyzing what could realistically be done to salvage what was currently sitting in his dock. The truck had seen better years a decade before. Obviously whoever it belonged to loved it for some sentimental reason rather than its value. Tony could understand the feeling. He just happened to have sentimental attachments to far more expensive vehicles.
If there was anything on the truck not leaking oil? He couldn't find it. They were looking at literally replacing every gasket and seal on the engine. Tony would have to use a crane to lift the whole thing out. Nine hours was a good time on it. There was no way he was going to even start on it without calling the owner first to get permission. Pepper had marked the customer was satisfied with his estimate, but his estimate was for only four hours and half the parts. People in Test City weren't in the same wealth category Tony had grown up in. He had a feeling they would be making a customer choose to say a sad farewell to an old friend.
"Sorry. This one is pretty much an oil-slick. I got at least 9 hours on the repairs when his quote was for 4. I'm not looking forward to calling him. Now, if he wanted to get experimental? I could put in a replacement engine which runs off solar power. Could take around 3 hours depending on how fast I can get the parts. I just have a feeling the guy it belongs to? Not so interested in a sun-fueled truck."
Tony tried to think of how he'd sum up his experiences in Composite City. Everything had been insane there. His entire tower had been brought there. The strip had been made up of strange segments of other worlds, places, times even. It was as if some mad architect were sculpting the world with whatever they felt like drawing in. And that architect was likely a chronic alcoholic. Tony knew the feeling of that. He could recognize the type from miles away. They'd had zombies, clean-up from the zombies, a flood complete with evil sea monsters, total darkness, and he'd even been locked in his own home which was truly embarrassing.
"We were in 'Composite City' before this though most of us called it Fake Vegas. The place was similar to The Strip, most of the casinos were there, almost all the landmarks, but then there were places from home, everyone's homes. I had my entire tower from New York there. We had a few blocks of 1940's Brooklyn. There was Tombstone, Arizona, from ages back. Some members of my team went to a magic castle. I don't know. It was like a really bad acid trip. I would not recommend it. In comparison? This place is as normal as being at home."