[ Because it had to be that hard, right? ]

This isn't over, but let me get something a little bit more festive than my birthday suit, huh?

[ He slips in, and it's honestly not long. Thankfully, the guy inside doesn't really blink too much — to be fair, Tony Stark walking naked into ones shop is not the worst thing that can happen in a day — and if Quentin looks in the window, he'll see Tony leaning across the counter, propping his head up while he very clearly charms his way into a costume. It's simple, but the equivalent of a victorian doctor, complete with bow-tie and frock coat, and he comes out looking a little stuffed into it (it's a size too small for the man) but at least it's close enough to a suit that he feels a little bit more at home. He also doesn't have to wear his undersuit, which is somehow gone again. ]

Ok. Now. [ He holds up a finger, and he's looking a lot more serious and a lot less "happy to play along". ] You mean to tell me that the section of your brain that has it is cordoned off. What's your brain matter made of? Organic mass? Anything we can hack into?

[ Please tell him you have a computer brain, or nanomachines, or something that he can use? ]