"Hello, Mr. Stark, your uncle frequently ntions you..."
Stark rolled his eyes, not bothering to hide his disgust, "He once ntioned you to too, General Robert. He said you're a half-brained idiot..."
The n in military uniforms across from him darkened at his words.
Stark's mood was far from good. He'd just had a spat with Venom, a voracious symbiont who wanted to eat human brains wherever it went, among its other annoying habits like smashing Stark into walls. Just now, the symbiont had managed to bump Stark's head, instigating a flurry of swearing from Stark.
"Please, take a seat," said General Robert, gesturing to the chair.
"No need, what brings you all here? If it's urgent, spit it out. If not, I have experints to attend to."
These military n seed unable to adapt to Stark's straight-to-the-point style. After all, their negotiations usually started off with half an hour of pleasantries, then another half of ti-wasting banter, ruminations on past and future for another half, followed by twenty minutes of hearty rapport-building, before finally, with ten minutes spared for the real matter at hand.
Stark didn't want to partake in their gas. It wasn't that he had trouble being diplomatic; he just didn't see the point. He didn't want to waste words on these n. In Stark's words, every sentence he spent on them was but a waste of mankind's progress.
In the end, Stark relented and took the seat.
General Robert, ever the obstinate one, insisted on walking the beat of his own rhythm, probing Stark with one round of questions after another.
Stark wanted nothing more than to be rid of them. Venom voiced in his mind, "You seem to dislike him. Can I eat his head...?"
"No, eating an idiot's brain will make you dumber."
"Really?"
"Absolutely."
"Can't you hit him instead?"
"No, I can't."
"Why? What about your hard clothing?"
"Hard clothing? Are you talking about my Iron Armor?"
"I want to wear that clothing."
"You need to wear clothes?"
"It looks interesting."
"No, absolutely not, you won't understand how to operate it. You could ruin my armor."
"I'll know how to use it, trust ."
Just then, Stark heard General Robert say, "We are sincerely interested in collaboration. As I understand, a friend of yours is also troubled, just like Obadiah. I empathize with such an old acquaintance's tribulation. As it happens, the military has obtained a drug that stimulates the nervous system, activating brain functionality."
"Our trials have shown that it has significant effects on patients in a coma, helping to revive brain function and regain control of the body."
Stark raised an eyebrow. "So you guys do co up with sothing useful."
A brigadier general entered, saluting, followed by two researchers carrying a box. They placed it on the table. As the lid was removed, white fog drifted out, revealing a syringe at the center.
Stark, having no special knowledge of dicine or pharmacy, was about to examine the syringe when Venom's excitent echoed in his mind. "This tastes good!! Kill him and snatch it! It'll taste good! You would find use for it! So will I!"
Stark frowned. "How did you co to that conclusion?"
"My genes told so!!"
"Are your genes really reliable?"
Stark could feel Venom getting increasingly excited, even a bit manic. General Robert, noticing Stark shaking, said, "I'm aware that Stark isn't doing well, and we are willing to help, for the sake of your uncle..."
"We are even willing to provide this drug for free. The military is very interested in the Nano Armor you've developed. Of course, we're not talking about the armor itself. We're moving forward in our cooperation with the Osborn Group, and Biological Armor holds just as much promise..."
"But, nanotechnology could give us the upper hand in information and intelligence warfare. We can't lose in these fields. This is about ensuring the safety of more soldiers. With more accurate intelligence, fewer sacrifices would be made..."
As if deeply moved, Robert continued, "I know the Stark Group is not like those journalists portray it. I know that Little Stark, like his father, is a hero who truly cares about the common people..."
"Think about it from another angle, a cooperation with the military could save even more lives. After all..."
Just as he got to this point, Robert noticed Stark shaking. Thinking that he was finally making headway into the genius's psyche, he was about to ramp up the pressure when he saw a thread of black goo crawl up Stark's neck.
In a split second, a massive monster, with nacing, sharp teeth, ca into view.
With one gulp, Venom swallowed General Robert's head, grabbed the box containing the drug, and dashed out of the window.
Nobody had seen this coming. One mont, Stark had been sitting there fine; the next, he was enveloped in a cocoon of sticky substance, morphing into an almost three-ter-tall black monster.
The black monster, with its crimson tongue and mouthful of sharp teeth, bit off a general's head before making off with the box containing the drug.
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