It is a beautiful day in Manhattan, a year has passed since Loki and his army of Chitauri minions lay waste to New York. A year has passed since the Avengers first joined forces and saved the day for the first time.
Amidst the reconstruction work and in the light of a new day for mankind, life is returning to normal.
Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist Tony Stark is at a bit of a loose end. The world doesn't need saving, there are no new tweaks to work on for the Ironman suit, no meetings to attend, for the first time in as long as he can remember he has nothing to do and it is driving him crazy.
His beautiful assistant and love of his life Pepper Potts half-jokingly suggests he run the hoover round. An hour later the Dyson is in bits as he is sure he can make the cyclone even more powerful and efficient.
He isn't wrong as when he fires it up; it promptly swallows the carpet and buries itself into the floorboards.
Sheepishly he turns it off, pries it out of the floor and puts it back in the closet without mentioning it to Pepper.
They had been on about redecorating anyway.
Vacuum cleaner destroyed he checks his emails, hoping for a heads up off Nick Fury. No joy but there is one from Bruce who wants to know if Stark is free for a round of golf later.
Tony shudders at the thought, he hasn't seen Banner for a while but the last time they played golf it ended … badly.
Bruce got stuck in a bunker on the 12th and yes Stark ... may have made fun of him a little, but Banner just lost it and Hulk turned up to play.
The club turned up a few miles away after it went through the side of a passing van, luckily no one was hurt.
The ball is in a low orbit and should re-enter the atmosphere any week now according to Nasa.
So no, no golf today.
There is a load off the Captain, newly awake in the 21st century he has just discovered the internet and facebook, everyone is constantly bombarded with pokes, game invites they are tagged in pictures, asked to like photo's to save dying children.
The less said about the money he loaned him that Rogers then gave to a Nigerian "Prince" the better.
He's a nice lad but a little wet behind the ears.
He logs out and puts the tv on, flicks through the channels for a few hours finding nothing worth watching. Maybe he should just get an early night? He checks his watch only to find it's still the middle of the afternoon.
With a heartfelt sigh of defeat, he fires up the x-box and loses himself in Black ops for the remainder of the day.
Where is an evil genius when you need one?