"Anomalous, sir?" Tony asked, trying to block the doctor’s view of the coffee table.
A swirl of pink smoke erupted in the center of the living room, smelling faintly of jasmine and ozone. When the mist cleared, a small woman with blonde hair tied in an elaborate bun and dressed in flowing harem silks stood before him. She crossed her arms, her expression a mix of adoration and impish defiance. I Dream of Jeannie