"And here I thought you were a symptom of encroaching senility." Curry's eyes were grim under his raised brow. "Pity."
"No love for your poor, neglected son?"
"'Poor neglected son'? Hardly. Who let you gatecrash, anyway?"
"Well, if you must know, I'm here as an intern for Mr. Stark."
"You-" He shook quietly with laughter. "He hired you? God, I thought he was nuts before..."
"Nuts?"
"Mr. Claymore, fighting terrorists in a rocket suit is hardly the act of a sane man. Neither is trying to get rid weapons with yet another weapon. Needless to say, I’m a bit... concerned..."
"And here I thought you were a symptom of encroaching senility." Curry's eyes were grim under his raised brow. "Pity."
"No love for your poor, neglected son?"
"'Poor neglected son'? Hardly. Who let you gatecrash, anyway?"
"Well, if you must know, I'm here as an intern for Mr. Stark."
"You-" He shook quietly with laughter. "He hired you? God, I thought he was nuts before..."
"Nuts?"
"Mr. Claymore, fighting terrorists in a rocket suit is hardly the act of a sane man. Neither is trying to get rid weapons with yet another weapon. Needless to say, I’m a bit... concerned..."
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