Hab grad eine Polizeirechtsklausur geschrieben. Jura ist an sich gemein, aber die Klausur hatte ein witzigen Sachverhalt, es ging um pfeifende Murmeltierjunge. Kann ich was mit Tony und einem pummeligen Murmeltier bekommen? Bitte bitte?
Du hast mein volles Mitgefühl. Ich hab Jura nur ein Jahr durchgehalten, und selbst das nur im Nebenfach. Respekt, dass du es durchziehst! Und vielen Dank für dein Ask! Ganz ehrlich, das ist das erste Mal, dass ich mir Gedanken um Tony und Murmeltiere gemacht habe, aber ich habs probiert :) [Die Sachverhalte, die zum Teil behandelt werden, hab ich zugeben auch als das Kurioseste am ganzen Fach in Erinnerung] Ich wünsch dir ganz viel Glück bei deinen Klausuren!
Random silliness lies ahead, consider yourself warned!
Alright lovelies, let’s talk about that time Tony met a pudgy, little groundhog. See, it’s not all that well-known. Maybe because it’s too obvious, too into-people’s-faces to be deemed of importance.
But Tony lives in a tower full of glass and glamour and metal and hidden scanners. Because everything about Tony is glamour and shine. He’s too vibrant, too futuristic, too technology-obsessed for anyone to expect something different.
Never mind that he could live anywhere he wanted. Could have tiny house in the middle of nowhere, where at least he wouldn’t be bothered by people and villains and other pesky annoyances. But he hasn’t. Instead he’s built a tower with his name lit up in bright, shining lights in the middle of New York City because that’s the way Tony Stark does things.
It’s not because he doesn’t like the outdoors. Or small, moving…things. Not at all.
It’s just nice to be surrounded by–not so alive things, you know? Tony doesn’t hate being in direct contact with nature, he’s just more comfortable surrounded by the soothing hum of his tech.
JARVIS might disagree, but who listens to JARVIS anyways? Besides he’s exaggerating. It’s not like Tony wants to erase nature or for all animals to drop dead or anything. Except maybe spiders. And mosquitos. And anything that crawls.
But contrary to popular belief, Tony is not a crazy super villain in the making. He’s not gonna start burning down a forest, even though the midges had it out for him specifically. No matter how tempting it may be.
Instead he’s dealing with his–dislike like a responsible adult: by hiring the best cleaning crew, improving his roombas, and working a decontamination bottom into the standard safety design of every floor of his tower.
So when, on an ordinary Tuesday mid-morning, Tony stumbles into his kitchen and finds a–a thing furry enough to definitely not be a robot waiting for him, staring at him with blank, black eyes that hold an abyss of soulless nothingness, he can be forgiven for screaming.
Loudly and heartfelt.
Neither JARVIS nor the devil in fur are impressed.
Tony presses the decontamination button.
JARVIS reminds him that protocol commands the process can only start once there are no humans in the room in question.
Tony presses the decontamination button again. (He presses the decontamination button a lot, that morning.)
A lot of arguing follows because JARVIS is too damn soft-hearted for his own good and refuses to call the suit in to deal with this threat to national security (not to forget Tony’s sanity). Until they eventually compromise on calling the closest animal shelter and asking on the best procedure.
Only when Tony turns around–and really, he can’t believe he turned his back on the Intruder for even a moment–the furry monster is gone.
He spends the next ten hours combing over every room of his floor in search for the damn thing, but it’s nowhere to be found.
The next morning the Evil That Knows Nothing But How To Evade Tony’s Excellent Security System once again awaits him in the kitchen.
Tony once again screams.
JARVIS sighs a very human sigh.
two months later
“Yo, Stark! Why is there’s a fat groundhog in your kitchen?!”
“Leave Sith Lord alone, Barton, what the hell? He’s not fat, maybe a little pudgy but there’s nothing wrong with that! Hey J, does Patty-Patter still hold those body positivity seminars?”
“I believe Miss Perrington does indeed, Sir. She is also petitioning to hold a seminar called ‘Why Tony Stark Should Not Be Allowed To Nickname His Employers’ if you are interested.”
“Very funny, J. Why don’t you sign Barton up to one of those, hm? And you, Sith Lord, better get out of here before–where did he go?”