Bobby hadn't been to a carnival in...gosh, so long. Maybe something on Long Island when he was a kid? Before getting swept off his feet and into life-endangering child labor? It inspired nostalgia in him, too-- yet another reminder that maybe there were pieces of his life he could reclaim and have an identity that didn't solely center around the word hero.
"What. Next." Bobby repeated thoughtfully, punctuating each word. He plucked a wad of the fibrous candy off the cone and quickly froze it just barely enough to give it a satisfying crunch. It was still too warm for fall weather (not that temperature in any way ruled Bobby's life, but fashion rules) so he'd taken a hoodie and shorn off the sleeves and the bottom half.
"You should know that I'm competitive to a fault, so you better rig that game good. Does the Ferris Wheel count as spinning, or is it rotating? House of Mirrors sounds fun, in a few hours and a different outfit." He was counting off the options on his free hand, starting with his thumb, then forefinger, middle, and so on. "You know, if the jury decides that the Ferris Wheel is spin-free, we could watch the fireworks from up there. It sounds terribly cliche."
"Oh!" He added, thumbing Tommy in the chest. "I heard there's like a fortune-telling booth. That could be fun. Is there a petting zoo? Oversized vegetable contest?"