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It was never meant to be an empire, but with a Stark on board, could you really expect anything else?
(This is the same thing the newspapers published 20 years before, with a different Stark and a different enterprise. But newspapers get archived, and people remember but don't quite understand what it means when they say that history repeats itself.)
--
It is nothing but a victory of morality over depravity, the governments say. "Fuck that," Tony Stark says. But also, he says, "I'll do the brewery, you do the juice, how about it then, Bruce?"
And Bruce, he just cleans his glasses with his shirt, shrugs, and says, "Well, I guess if it'll calm everyone's nerves, it can't hurt."
--
Tony steps into the business because he knows an opportunity when he sees one. And he knows veterans who starve for more than bread when he sees 'em, too.
Bruce, well. Let's just say it takes one to know one.
--
On the third week, after Tony's called a few people, delivered a few test runs, and bought himself more bullets, a kid shows up. "Name's Clint, sir. I'mma be your newsie, sir."
"Buddy, I'm pretty sure this ain't the line of work you mean, then. We don't need no newsie."
"No, sir, you don't. But you need someone to spread the word, sir. Now, since I've already told a bunch of folks in some downtown speakeasies, I reckon you won't wanna disappoint 'em. I also reckon two bottle's enough payment."
"You do, don't you?"
"Yes, sir."
Tony smiles.
--
Call it moonshine, call it busthead, call it bootleg, call it whatever you well damn please. But please, don't call it Banner and Stark's because they've already been raided three times in the last two months.
--
Clint shows up with another guy, all bones and angles. Bruce says, "We ain't got other bottles to spare, Clint. We already gave you an extra one last week."
Clint smiles, shrugs. The stranger puts out a hand, says, "I'm Steve. I heard your rotgut isn't rotgut. Heard it's quite good."
Bruce frowns. "Did you, now?"
"Sure did. And I know some people, people whose mothers and uncles have gone blind from the other stuff, the not-so-good stuff. And these people, sir? They're dying for a proper drink."
"Ah. Well, then."
--
They reach Downtown, then Brooklyn, then Queens. A case even reaches Chicago, and Tony disappears for a week until he comes back with a black eye and a, "Some people just don't like it when you step on their territory, I guess."
--
"I'm gonna open a speakeasy, Bruce, if that's alright with you. I'll even get you a bigger barrel to brew."
"It's 1926, Tony. Everyone's got a speakeasy these days."
"Well, I guess ours'll just have to be better."
--
It's not all smooth sailing, though. There are raids, which can be bad, or really bad, depending on whether it's the cops or somebody else. There's also brawls and violence and the one time something failed and the batch didn't come out quite as good, when someone almost died on one of their tables.
Once, Tony gets shot so close to the heart Bruce thinks he's dead. He's not, but he leaves the bullet in, calls it a good luck charm, says maybe it'll earn him a good nickname, how about it, then?
--
1925, 1926, Bruce buys a bigger house, 1927, they've covered four out of the five boroughs.
1928, Tony turns to him, says "Something big is coming, pal. I think we best retire while the going is good."
They do. Close down the still, sell the last of the bottles and tell the boys to go home.
--
And 1930? Well, that's a whole different story.