Frankly the whole power versus responsibility thing was a pretty fantastic mantra. Sure, it was a little cheesy but Tony followed those same ideals daily, and had been for something over ten years now. They could probably trade notes about it, if either of them was feeling like sharing some heavy shit.
But first, maybe Peter was just going to word vomit. And Tony, hands paused and eyebrows raised slightly, just let him do it. It would not be any kind of lie to say he was endeared by it -- Peter Parker, apparently from any dimension and at any age, was just the sort of person who randomly spoke a billion different words until eventually something close to a point came out. Sort of.
Was it weird, he wondered, that he had to fight back the urge to hug a man who he didn't even really know?
"Okay," he said slowly, once Peter had wound down. "I don't know anything about Spider-Copters, but that seems like a waste for at least three dozen reasons. But your idea of laundry isn't a bad one, you know. Not terrible. Because, look, you're not wrong. No one likes doing it. It's the worst chore. I'm pretty sure I've paid people to do it my entire life and only understand the concept in the most basic of parts." Okay. Maybe he talked a little bit on the much side too. But he was going somewhere with it. "That said, there are a lot of ways to build a machine to do laundry that takes no energy at all and only requires minimal effort. I'm sure Captain America would be out here washing shirts on his abs if he could, but we don't need to do that. So." He paused, looked around him a bit wildly while he looked for paper and a pencil -- he wasn't sure where they'd come from but he'd snatched up the spares he'd seen laying around -- and started drawing out a diagram, detailing the general idea and parts needed. "I think we can salvage enough parts from what we've got around here to get this going in -- a few hours?"