Thor shovels the lamb vindaloo into his mouth with his usual gusto, blissfully ignoring the expectant stares from the two assassin cooks. Tony eyes him as he would a science experiment, while Bruce sits absolutely still, his own fork frozen in midair.

"Wait," Steve sounds concerned. "Do we have any idea exactly what impact this kind of stuff could have on the Asgardian digestive system?"

"Not yet," Tony says serenely as Thor swallows. "But I suspect it will be only a question of time."

The cheerful expression on Thor's face suddenly changes to a frown, and he rubs his chest.

"I am not responsible for whatever happens here," Bruce points out, obviously torn between sticking around to watch and finishing his vindaloo for his own happiness, and removing himself from the battlefield for everyone else's.

Thor opens his mouth, but it isn't to speak -- nothing comes out; his face contorts a little as he is obviously trying to expel ... something. Natasha and Clint exchange slightly worried glances; neither of them looks at Steve who is wearing his I-told-you-so face.

"Let it out, man," Clint encourages him. "Good solid burp, and you'll feel better."

In truth, everyone expects the belch to be spectacular, Norse-God-sized. Nobody, however, expects the three-foot flame.

"So that's what it does," Tony mutters as he lunges for the fire extinguisher by the kitchen cupboard.

Thor, by now, is smiling again. He wipes the soot off his chin and bangs his fist on the table with undisguised glee.

"Another!"

Hahaha!

And that's the story of why Dummy carries a fire extinguisher at the dinner table.

I'm also now picturing Clint, Natasha, and Bruce trying to find something that proves to be too spicy for Thor!

WONDER AND GLORY.