Steve examined himself in the hotel room mirror. One last coat of hairspray should do it. The pungent mist swirled around his spiky orange hair, nearly a foot high. He was already sweating in his spandex. Steve couldn't imagine what it was going to be like on the Comic Con floor, squeezed within an inch of his life, getting accidentally punched by some teenage girl trying to get some Twilight swag. He picked up his enormous foam-rubber weapon. He was ready, just had to get his brother. “Tom, let's go!” Tom exited the suite's bedroom sporting khaki shorts and a striped polo shirt. “Dude, you're not really gonna wear that, are you?!” Tom exclaimed upon the sight of his brother's ensemble. Steve said, “I could say the same thing about you-dude. In that costume we'll be the laughing stock of the con.” Steve yanked the closet door open in frustration and pulled a T-Shirt out of his bag. “Here!” Steve shoved the shirt into Tom's hands. Tom held the shirt away from himself to examine it. He pulled off his polo and slipped on the tee. As the brothers were heading out the door Tom asked, “So what is a TARDIS, anyway?”
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