Definitely in the running for dumbest caption so far 😅

The thunderous noise of She-Hulk and regular-Hulk sparring carried across the Avenger's compound. Housing one Hulk had been challenge enough, but two of them was starting to become an issue. Not just the noise. After brawling with each other in the gymnasium, they worked up quite the appetite, and the literal truckloads of food they ate would have bankrupted a lesser company than Stark Industries. Three industrial ovens struggled to meet demand.

Tony tried to blot out the distant thud of their fists. He was working on a new nanite armor prototype, the Mark XTF Armor. If it was succesful, it would be a quantum surge in technology, the nanite suit instantly, on-the-fly reconfigurable into any design imaginable. He'd never be caught with his pants down again. But establishing the nanite-brain interface and training the suit to respond only to his conscious will was proving difficult.

The suit kept responding to unconscious desires. Midday, his stomach started rumbling, and the nanites had reacted by morphing the armor's fingers into knives and forks. Fortunately a trip to the canteen and the sight of Hulk guzzling down barrels of undercooked shawarma had been enough to put him off food for life.

Donning and removing the suit wasn't an easy process either. He opted to keep it on while he worked, holding in his bladder until the last minute. This time he'd left it too late. He burst into the bathroom cubicle, wrestling with the crotch of the armor.

Ugh, I need the toilet so bad!

The suit liquified instantly into a roiling skin of nanites, obscuring his vision. He felt his body shifting, cold porcelain pressing against and merging with his back. Plumbing forced its way through anatomy, water gurgling through him. When the nanites finally settled and his vision returned, his point of view was lower, staring out at the dingy cubicle from where the toilet should be. He couldn't move.

Oh no...

"Hello? Little help in here?" Stark yelled.

The door of the bathroom slammed open. A green hand wrenched open the cubicle door. It was Banner's cousin, clutching her stomach in pain. "That damn shawarma," she grunted, her stomach making alarming gurgling noises.

"Don't even think about it," Stark exclaimed. She was pulling down her workout leotard and backing closer, her thick rear filling his vision. "Hey! Are you listening to me?! Do. Not. Do. It. There are other cubicles," he screamed.

"Nghhh, no time," she grunted, wedging her muscular buttocks onto Stark's porcelain lap.