Tony was childish at best, so he really wouldn't argue with McCoy about that note at all. As it stands, he is a bit busy scanning the area and snorting at the notion that someone might be able to silence him.

"You could try, Blondie, but I've had gods try to shut me up and fail, so I think you might have your work cut out for you on that front." Tony hums a little, stores the readings he gets from the glow sticks that are also sharpies, and tries to figure out what the fuck they were going to do.

Well, not really. The plan McCoy comes up with is fairly solid.

"You say you're not a strategies, but I gotta say, the plan is solid. I mean, minus me being eaten, I've gone through that and let me just say, no." There is a flash of a smile. "Also, you want a flame thrower? I am sure I can make one if you give me like... fifteen minutes that rifle, a grenade and one of my missiles in here. Or maybe Blondie's magic sharpie. That looks like it might make fire."

Times like this, perhaps, it was an almost good thing that he had so many years developing and testing weapons. Maybe.