In any case, the Guardians of the Galaxy successfully escaped into the spire. They passed through the main hall and entered a corridor, and with fewer onlookers around, things looked a little better.
Stepping onto the thick red carpet and taking in the resplendent interior under the lights, Star-Lord made sure that most people nearby did not recognize him before removing his red-eyed oxygen mask.
"Damn it, Drax, you've forced me to get plastic surgery and change my face. I actually quite like this handsome face of mine."
"Plastic surgery? Oh, oh! The kind where they cut up your face?" Drax seemed to have misunderstood something yet again. Not only did he look impressed, but he also gave Star-Lord a thumbs-up before turning around and shouting, "Star-Lord is getting pla—mmph!"
Before he could finish shouting, Peter Quill leaped onto him, wrapped his legs around him like an old tree's roots, and covered the big man's mouth with both hands.
"Please! Stop sharing my updates with random strangers!" Star-Lord was miserable. He truly had no idea how Drax's mind worked.
"I am Groot?" The tree-being asked everyone what he should do. Humanoid creatures could get plastic surgery, and Rocket could pretend to be a plush toy, but how was he, as a tree, supposed to keep people from recognizing him in the future?
"I think you have the least to worry about." Rocket patted the tree's leg and scratched one of his ears. "Most people can't tell tree-beings apart anyway, because in the eyes of ignorant racists, all tree-beings look the same."
"Rocket's right. I haven't lived on Earth much, so even now, I still can't tell Black people apart at night where there aren't any streetlights." Star-Lord hopped off Drax and said something that was probably politically incorrect. Then he