This was turning out to be a relaxing evening. Staying at the office probably would have been far more productive, and if Tony really wanted to induce this kind of self-abuse, that bar he was eying earlier would have at least been momentarily gratifying. This screeching wouldn't even end in him passing out, though he might vomit. He clicked the lid of his laptop closed, pushing it back onto the table and sitting up straighter with his feet back on the ground with a deep, calming breath to get through Wanda's tirade.
"Who else needs a drink?" he asked primly in the beat of silence when she was quite done. He didn't wait for answers, just stood to sweep out of the room and back into the kitchen where it wasn't quite as oppressively self-righteous.