Anthony Edward Stark

Ever the loyal, if grumbling, servant, Moran does just exactly as he's told before returning the cleaned off fork to it's owner. "I'm having his pie," the marksman announces, but cuts off the crusts for Jim since he knows how much he likes them and sets about eating the fruit filling with relish.

Tony's whimpering in the bathroom doesn't get much sympathy, mostly because Moran's already figured his opponent out.

"He's playing us," he grumbles. "Yeah, that shit hurts but not enough to leave him pissing in those expensive socks of his." He rolls his eyes. "I hate the clever ones."