Here they have gathered upon defeat in the Great Character Clash.

Tony Stark, Saruman, and Darth Vader.

A motley, bedraggled crew they are, lamenting their losses, resenting those who removed them from the competition, pining after the glory they can never now achieve.

As word trickles in of the tournament’s progression, the trio strikes up a reflective conversation.

Musings and Mournings

Stark: I really appreciate the company, gentlemen. Crying is always better when you’re not alone. None of us deserve this.

Saruman: ‘Tis a grim fate indeed.

Stark: Anyone up for ordering some pizza? I could use an emotional boost.

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DV: What good is food when our foes flaunt their victories in our faces?

Stark: Good point, pal. But really, p-i-z-z-a. Look, fine. If you want to purposefully avoid life’s pleasures, that’s your call. I’m ordering pizza.

Saruman: No mushrooms. I despite the foul things.

Stark (dialing phone): Bad experience? Allergic reaction maybe?

Saruman: Hobbits.

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Stark: Oh right. You didn’t lose to a hobbit, though, did you?

Saruman: I wish to not speak of that subject. We were invited here as a boon, not to rub salt into old wounds.

Stark (shouting): JARVIS, turn off the salt rubber, please.

DV: In truth, I paid little attention to the other matchups. They were disinteresting.

Stark: Except for what Han and Leia were doing. Because relatives and all that. Though I totally hear you. I would have been the same way if not for that overgrown runt in the skin-tight spandex.

DV: Do not mention those names.

Stark: All right, all right. Don’t get your cloak tied in knots.

Saruman (to Stark): This is true. You lost in the very first round.

Stark: Watch it, pal, or you’re gonna have a boatload of mushrooms coming your way. It was that kid, I told you. How do you like that, after all I’ve done for him? Taking him under my wing. Supporting him. Giving his life meaning.

DV: A familiar feeling.

Stark (clapping Vader’s shoulder): See? This guy gets me. We must be connected. Anyway, I would still be going strong if not for you know who.

Saruman: Voldemort?

DV: He was in the tournament? I thought—

Stark: What? No. Come on, Saruman. I know you could look in the mirror and think you’re Dumbledore, but that doesn’t give you any right to bring Harry Potter into this. I was clearly talking about the spider kid, not Voldemort.

Saruman: Ah yes.

DV (thoughtfully): What did you mean, still going strong?

Stark: In the competition. No way I would have lost.

DV: You think too highly of yourself.

Stark: I do think highly—because I’m on the top floor of a tower I built. Thank you for the compliment.

Saruman: I sense offense on your part, Lord Vader.

DV: Stark knows nothing. If not for the trickster god, I would not be here. I would at last have my revenge on Solo.

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Stark: Get over yourself, Vader. I would have beat you all day every day. We all know one of my skills is kicking the baddy’s butt. Especially if he wears a cape and carries a weird weapon and comes from space. Just ask that fellow who put you here.

DV: Silence. You try my patience.

Stark: Actually, I’ve tried your patience and I don’t like how it tastes. And while we’re on the subject, that mask…not doing it for me. I’m not crazy about the muffler effect. And I’ve started hearing that whoosh-whoosh in my dreams.

Saruman: Enough.

DV: This is not your battle, Saruman. I will teach this fool a lesson.

Stark: Not in my house you won’t. I invited you here in good faith. Plus glowing stick against my advanced tech? No chance. JARVIS, stand by.

Saruman: This is pointless. We are here united by our common standing.

DV (pulling out lightsaber): Stand back.

Stark: No weapons allowed on the premises. JARVIS, who let him in here with that thing?

JARVIS: You did, sir.

Stark: Oh, right. Moment of weakness.

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DV: Do you have any last wishes before I end your miserable life?

Stark: Take off the mask. Put down the weapon. What kind of man are you without all that?

JARVIS: Sir, we have company.

Saruman: The pizza has arrived.

Stark (to Vader): We’ll resume this later. I make it a policy never to fight on an empty stomach.

*elevator door slides open*

Stark: Wait, what are you doing here?

Loki: Did someone order five large pepperoni pizzas?

Stark: Yes, but…

Loki (sly smile): Surprise.

Stark: I wouldn’t step foot in here if I were you. Some of us aren’t overly happy with you right now. *shoots sidelong glance at Vader, who hasn’t lowered his lightsaber*

Loki: I see. That’s a pity, because I was hoping for an offer to join your exclusive club. I have a sneaking suspicion I will not survive this round.

DV: SOLO!!

Loki: Yes. I barely know the man and I have come to despise his very existence. I could offer to help you find revenge, Lord Vader. Few know the intricacies of such matters better than I.

DV: Revenge. Yes.

Stark (taking the pizza from Loki): Consider that a potential invitation.

Loki: I look forward to it. *disappears*

Saruman: Let us drown our sorrows in tomato sauce.

DV: And pepperoni.

Stark: JARVIS, where’s the wine? If we’re gonna party, let’s do it properly.

Do you think Stark should invite Loki to the pity party if he loses? I’d love to hear your thoughts here or on social media.