Tony had to twist back as he sauntered pointedly away from Pietro to see what he was talking about, just in time to drop the pie on the low table, scattering pieces and unfinished thoughts heaped there throughout the day, and point back at Pietro's hand to dismiss, "That's gross." Not what Tony wanted to think about, in other words, he was trying to eat here. Not that the teleportation was that much more interesting. There was no marketability in it, this was the thirteenth time in so many months, Tony was sure, some small shop excitedly shopped around the same findings. "You coming? I think I'm going to take Pep and fly into Sao Paulo for Wednesday, give her a night then Anthony gets to see the game, everybody's happy. Unless you've got, you know, someone taking a look at that some time soon, you should get that fixed." He dropped his jacket to the floor and fell into the couch, pointing again Pietro's way.