When they found Thor, he really was unconscious.
But unlike what everyone had expected, though the big man smelled of alcohol, that was not the main reason for his slumber.
Even with his shoulder-length hair blocking the view, everyone could clearly see a red lump on the back of Thor's head, like a little tomato.
"Wow, who the hell hit you on the head?"
Tony circled Thor with an astonished look. He had never seen anyone in real life get hit hard enough to produce an effect straight out of a cartoon.
Normally, with that much force, shouldn't the skull have shattered first? The physical constitution of the Aesir really was something else.
The somewhat bedraggled God of Thunder kept his head lowered, wiping his face with his red cape. His great axe, War Axe, rested against the side of the medical bed.
Faced with Tony's question, he merely turned his head aside and pretended not to hear.
"Don't ask. Just look at how he's avoiding reality, and you'll know who did it."
The Captain held gauze and iodine, preparing to bandage the God of Thunder while working around his long hair. Ever since a Mongolian doctor had nearly forgotten a piece of gauze inside his abdominal cavity in the Paris sewers years ago, he had made a point of studying battlefield first aid.
"Ah, I see. Your sinister, cunning, and despicable little brother, Loki." Tony raised both eyebrows, making them twitch like his mustache, then blinked a few times. "But now that he's turned into a woman, she's really pretty hot. Okay, but she's still awful."
"I won't allow you to talk about him like that!" The God of Thunder sprang up from beside the bed. He was not about to fight Tony, though. Instead, he angrily grabbed his