Questionable Parenting Methodology

The Fine Art of Bullshit Part 1

Tony was supposed to fix my phone - which Eli broke- today but he never called me to the lab so I decided that I would go to him.

"TONY STA- oh you're not Tony."

"Oh no, I get that often" not-Tony -I don't remember her name- said, not even looking at me. I looked around his lab, trying to find him but it was just the kid.

"Where the fuck is Tony at?" I asked her, trying to see what she was working on. I couldn't understand a lot of it -I'm no genius- so I gave up, sitting down instead.

"Where the fuck is Tony at?" the girl mocked, "Do I look like his messenger girl?"

"Jeez, you're nice, aren't you?" I mumbled. I grabbed one of Tony's gadgets, trying to figure out what it did.

"Everyone has their talents I suppose," the girl uttered under her breath before finally looking up. "He's not here, probably gonna be busy for a while longer. Can I help you with anything?" She asked then, before her eyes got wide "Put that down!"

"Whoa! Sorry!" I immediately dropped the gadget over to the other side of the table, putting my hands up in surrender. "What the fuck is it?"

The girl shot over from her station and snatched the gadget, "It's nothing just-" her voice got defensive, "It's mine and it's explosive so just stay away from it."

"Oh shit, I didn't mean to intrude." I was very aware of how defensive investors got over their tech, Tony has yelled at me a number of times for that. "Why are you making explosive things?"

"They're not hard explosives it's- they're to eliminate obstacles or, on a lighter setting, disarm." The girl explained, twisting the gadget around in her hands. "Can I help you with anything?" She then asked again, more pointedly.

"Hey, I live here, I'm allowed wherever I want." I said, only teasing. I did live there but I was definitely not allowed in the lab, not that the kid knew that.

"Mr. Stark said you're not technically allowed in here," she said then, looking up with teasing eyes. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Well, my idiotic brother broke my phone and Tony promised to fix it today, but he isn't here so now im bored." I put my phone up to show the cracked screen, before spinning in my chair.

The girl rolled her eyes, "Of course he did," she said, "Give me the phone, I'll bet you ten bucks I can fix it better than mr. Stark anyway."

"What makes you think I even have ten bucks?" I joked, passing my phone over to the kid.

"What makes you think I do?" she responded, eyes twinkling. She looked over the phone before turning around and wedging a screwdriver - when did she grab a screwdriver? - between the screen. She stared at whatever was in there for a second, clearly bewildered and then physically shook her head.

"Not my circus, not my monkeys." She uttered, now obstructing my view from the table.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I questioned, trying to look over the table at my phone, unsuccessfully. What could be so bad about my broken phone?

"I didn't even know these parts could break," she responded, more clearly this time, "Like- actually this would be impressive if it wasn't so..." she trailed off, clearly deep in thought as she opened a drawer to grab some spare parts.

She was quiet for a while then, hopefully actually fixing the phone. Right when it seemed she was done she spoke up again.

"This is boring," she said, twisting the screwdriver around between her fingers, "give me a challenge. What feature do you want?"