THERE WERE EXPLOSIONS AND BRIGHTLY-COLORED-MOVING-FAST OBJECTS THAT MAY HAVE BEEN PEOPLE OR POSSIBLY JUST FLYING SPORTS CARS AND THEN STUFF HAPPENED AND DON CHEADLE/ROADIE GOT A SEXYSUIT/IRON MAN SUIT AND THEN HE AND TONY STARK BLEW MORE SHIT UP AND THEN---
SCARLETT JOHANSSEN IN A CATSUIT OKAY I'M DONE I'M DEAD I DIED. DEAD DEAD DEAD. AND THEN SHE PULLED BADASS NINJA LUCHA LIBRE MOVES AND PWNED EVERYONE AND MY BRAIN
and then there was Gwyneth Paltrow in a really tight skirt that only starving midget refugee children could fit in, wearing heels supposedly bigger than Iron Man's dick, but no one really cared about that.
AND THEN MORE SHIT BLEW UP AND I WAS HAPPY AGAIN.
THERE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A PLOT INVOLVED IN THE MAKING OF THIS MOVIE, BUT I CARE NOT FOR TRIVIAL MATTERS LIKE THAT.
THIS MOVIE SAILS MY BOAT. OR FLOATS MY BOAT. I AM NOT ENTIRELY SURE WHICH SAYING IS SEMANTICALLY CORRECT, BUT TONY STARK CAN SAIL MY BOAT ANY TIME, BABY.