[The strain in Steve's voice reverberated through the garage, washing over him as readily as the incisive blues of the beginnings of a 3D rendition of a crime scene. Tony, mug of espresso in his hand, paused to stare quasi-contemplatively at one of the televisions -- which was streaming, of course, his own face -- before speaking up again.]
Steve, buddy, the whole world saw what I said to the Mandarin. That was the point. Don't mean to be sharp, but I'm sort of running on a schedule here -- what can I do you for?