Let me get my ticket baby, let me get in line
Weapons expert. Oh, how he liked the sound of that. In preparation for the Stark hearing, Justin Hammer had said the phrase to himself several times over, never failing to crack a smile every time.
Standing in front of a full length mirror wearing his glasses, a pair of boxer-briefs, and perfectly pressed white dress shirt, Hammer breathed slowly out, then repeated the phrase aloud. "Weapons expert. Weapons expert. Weapons expert." He tilted his head at his reflection, murmuring a hmm as he tried to envision Senator Stern turning the courtroom's attention to himself. Hammer pursed his lower lip, scrunching his mouth below his nose in distaste. Stern mumbled. What a bad habit, and clearly a sign of low self esteem. He needed to provide the charisma the people would be clamoring for. It was a tough job, but somebody preferably not named Anthony Edward Stark would have to do it.
Catching a second glimpse of himself in the mirror, Hammer quickly composed his face and lifted his head to its proper position. This was too much like a constipated Tom Cruise circa Risky Business. As much as he liked Old Time Rock and Roll, this wasn't the image of himself he wanted to be projecting in his mind's eye. Justin Hammer was a winner.
Turning away from the mirror he looked to the clothes he had laid out for himself for the hearing only a few hours away. Pants should go on next, yes. Next followed the tie. Blue of course. For something like this he was really only limited to a red, white and blue color scheme. All three together looked too clownish and white didn't pop against gray. He'd considered red, but that could send the wrong message. Blue was perfect. It was classic and reeked of poise under pressure.
Then came the vest, which he had briefly wondered was too much and quickly rid himself of the idea with a smile as he looped the first button through its hole. Jacket next.
The details were easy, if only because he had decided on them days before the suit ensemble. Cufflinks, watch, handkerchief.
Once again, Hammer looked at himself in the mirror, beaming at himself with satisfaction. Today was a great day for Hammer Industries, the start of many things to come. With a one footed hop he turned on his heel toward the bathroom, fully intent on finishing his grooming. He was thankful he lived alone, or else an observer would have heard the perky, yet warbled strains of "Just take those old records off the shelf..." as Hammer sashayed toward his hair gel.
Standing in front of a full length mirror wearing his glasses, a pair of boxer-briefs, and perfectly pressed white dress shirt, Hammer breathed slowly out, then repeated the phrase aloud. "Weapons expert. Weapons expert. Weapons expert." He tilted his head at his reflection, murmuring a hmm as he tried to envision Senator Stern turning the courtroom's attention to himself. Hammer pursed his lower lip, scrunching his mouth below his nose in distaste. Stern mumbled. What a bad habit, and clearly a sign of low self esteem. He needed to provide the charisma the people would be clamoring for. It was a tough job, but somebody preferably not named Anthony Edward Stark would have to do it.
Catching a second glimpse of himself in the mirror, Hammer quickly composed his face and lifted his head to its proper position. This was too much like a constipated Tom Cruise circa Risky Business. As much as he liked Old Time Rock and Roll, this wasn't the image of himself he wanted to be projecting in his mind's eye. Justin Hammer was a winner.
Turning away from the mirror he looked to the clothes he had laid out for himself for the hearing only a few hours away. Pants should go on next, yes. Next followed the tie. Blue of course. For something like this he was really only limited to a red, white and blue color scheme. All three together looked too clownish and white didn't pop against gray. He'd considered red, but that could send the wrong message. Blue was perfect. It was classic and reeked of poise under pressure.
Then came the vest, which he had briefly wondered was too much and quickly rid himself of the idea with a smile as he looped the first button through its hole. Jacket next.
The details were easy, if only because he had decided on them days before the suit ensemble. Cufflinks, watch, handkerchief.
Once again, Hammer looked at himself in the mirror, beaming at himself with satisfaction. Today was a great day for Hammer Industries, the start of many things to come. With a one footed hop he turned on his heel toward the bathroom, fully intent on finishing his grooming. He was thankful he lived alone, or else an observer would have heard the perky, yet warbled strains of "Just take those old records off the shelf..." as Hammer sashayed toward his hair gel.