Just to explain this disaster I was driving back from somewhere and saw a restaurant called Brother's BBQ and just thought about all the brothers (Fili and Kili, Thor and Loki, Elladan and Elrohir, and all seven of Fëanor's sons) and what would happen if they had to run this BBQ store...First up: 

THOR AND LOKI >:)

Help. That is all. 

Loki: This is ridiculous. You bought a what? 

Thor: A barbecue store. 

Loki: That's just bizarre. What's your problem? 

Thor: Um, I like BBQ?

Loki: You're absolutely hopeless. Thanks for telling me, I'm off to conquer the galaxy. Cheers.

Thor: No no no hold on. 

Loki: *sighs* Now what? 

Thor: You have to help me run it!

Loki: WHAT? *small explosion* 

Thor: No just calm down it shall be fun! Like old times!

Loki: In "old times", as you so nostalgically put it, we sparred with wooden swords, we didn't run full-scale feeding operations!

Thor: Well, it's the "new times"! 

Loki: You're the new psycho brother. 

Thor: WELL YOU'RE ADOPTED!

Loki: See, we're not even brothers. So that failed. Bye. 

Thor: NOOO at least come and see it? Please? 

Loki: I know what meat on a grill looks like. 

Thor: But--

Loki: NO >:(

Thor: I'll tell Nick Fury to catch you in a glass cage again and leave you there because you're a Class Four danger to the Earth. 

Loki: You wouldn't!

Thor: Not if you help me with this BBQ restaurant. 

Loki: Sons of Odin, I hate you. 

Thor: Same. Let's go make some BBQ. 

*an hour later* 

Loki: *in an apron* 

Thor: Nice apron. 

Loki: At least I won't mess up my super expensive designer clothes. 

Thor: At least mine are machine washable. 

Loki: What? 

Thor: There's this thing called a "washing machine". It makes things clean. 

Loki: How nice. Do you know, it washes clothes. Like, cloth. Not armour. So, sorry. 

Thor: No! Jane said--

Loki: Typical. Typical mortals. 

Thor: I LOVE JANE SO MUCH!

Loki: Okay, well, I love torturing mortals. 

Thor: That's not related. 

Loki: Can we please just open the restaurant? I still need time to fix my hair and judge a few people from afar today. 

Thor: Sounds pretty rude to me. 

Loki: You sound like Steven. 

Thor: Who is Steven? 

Loki: Steveeeee Rogers? 

Thor: Oh, Cap. 

Loki: You call him Cap? 

Thor: Well, Man of Iron calls him Capsicle or Stevie or Spangle!

Loki: Okay, we're done here. And so is this meat. It's probably the best meat ever. Try some. 

Thor: OH MY ODIN IT'S SO GOOD. *throws Mjolnir*

Loki: Good job, you just broke your BBQ store. 

Thor: We can just hang a curtain over the hole, nobody will know. 

Loki: I don't have a habit of bringing curtains to BBQ stores. 

Thor: Use your cape. 

Loki: Use your cape!

Thor: No, green matches. 

Loki: Matches what? The bare walls and random pig statue in the front entrance? 

Thor: No, the...ambiance. 

Loki: I'll give you some ambiance!!! *rips Thor's cape off* 

Thor: HEY NO MY PRECIOUSSSSS

(People reading this story: Gollum????)

Loki: Oookay. Well, I'll go hang this over YOUR blasted hole and THEN I'm opening the doors. 

Thor: Watch out you don't get trampled. 

Loki: Nobody wants to eat here, Thor. I'll be surprised if there's even a beggar outside. 

*there's 9886643657 people outside banging on the windows* 

Loki: *mutters* When did you get so famous??

Thor: *wiping his hands with Loki's cape* It's my biceps. 

Loki: *scowls* Well, there's only one thing to do. *opens the door* Single file, ladies and gentlemen, single file! *people push through*

Loki: Oh, no you don't. YOU WERE MADE TO BE RULED! 

Thor: *rolls eyes* Stop scaring our customers!

Loki: Well, you talk to them!

Thor: Hello, so welcome to my--

Loki: *coughs* 

Thor: My brother and I's BBQ shop! All the meat here is really good. It's even better than Asgard's meat because I killed it myself. 

People: *nervous laughter* 

Loki: *quickly* He's joking. Our quality meats are imported from Vanaheim. 

Someone random: *yells* Is that in Africa??

Loki: *chokes* Sure. 

Thor: Well, come on in. Today we are serving pork ribs. 

*an hour later* 

Thor: Does everyone have ribs!

Loki: No, just sternums. 

Thor: Shut up. I mean, food. Items on which to dine. 

People at the restaurant: Yes!

Thor: Loki, look, we're making tons of cash. 

Loki: Because of me, obviously. 

Thor: Why!

Loki: Because I'm HEAD CHEF! 

Thor: *annoyed* You're the only chef. So go make more potato salad. 

Loki: Maybe I'll just duplicate everything. 

Thor: But then it's FAKE, Loki. 

Loki: Nobody knows that >:)

Thor: Don't. For reals. I'll buy you something? 

Loki: Unless it's world domination, I'll pass. Fine. I'll be in the kitchen. 

Thor: This was a terrible idea. 

Loki: *mimics Thor* Look, we're making tons of cash!

Thor: Shut up. 

Loki: *grins* Make me. 

Thor: I'll call the Avengers. I hear Tony likes BBQ. 

Loki: Not Stark, please no. 

Thor: Why not? 

Loki: He's rude and arrogant and thinks he's better than everyone. 

Thor: Oh, like you? 

Loki: But I am better!

Thor: Brother, you are entirely wrong. I'm calling everyone because they like BBQ. So there. Fight me. 

*an hour later* *bell at front of the restaurant rings*

Steve Rogers: Hello, Thor! 

Thor: Hello, Steve! Welcome to my--

Loki: *coughs from behind kitchen door*

Thor: Me and my...coworker's...BBQ shop!

Tony Stark: *squeezing through the door* Who's the coworker? 

Loki: *looks out from the kitchen* 

Thor: *moves in front of everyone* Uh, nobody! Just a person. *smirks* We're not even related. 

Loki: *yells* Hey guys!

Thor: Yeah, um, Bill, it's the Avengers!

Loki: My name isn't Bill, peasant!!

Bruce: *walking in* Isn't that Loki's voice? 

Steve: Loki? You mean your brother? 

Thor: No? 

Clint Barton: *coming in the back door with Natasha* Hey guys. 

Tony: You know there's a legit front door, right? 

Natasha: You know me, Stark, I'm never one to be normal. 

Tony: You've got that right. Thor, that's definitely Loki. 

Loki: Oh, at least someone got it right. *appearing with everyone*

Thor: LOKI no, go back to the kitchen. 

Loki: So I can go back to the kitchen and slave away at your grill while you entertain some friends who, frankly, I don't even like? 

Natasha: Ouch. 

Steve: I'd better call the Director, he'll want to know about this. 

Loki: Oh, you don't want to do that. 

Steve: Why not? 

Loki: Or I'll go on strike and not cook any more BBQ. 

Thor: That's bad. 

Bruce: Ok--so let me get this straight: Loki's the chef? 

Thor: There was nobody else!

Natasha: Well, um, we don't exist or anything. 

Thor: Sorry! But it is called "Brother's Grill", not "The Avengers' Grill" 

Clint: He has a point. 

Loki: Can you all sit down? You're making me nervous!

Bruce: *scoffs* We're making you nervous? How hilarious. 

Thor: Easy, Banner. 

Bruce: I'm trying. But mostly I'm hungry. Fine, Loki. Make us food. But one wrong move...

Natasha: And we'll get Brucie over here to use you as a sledgehammer. 

Loki: Sounds like a ball. Right, Thor? 

Thor: I'm not in this conversation. But I warned you before hand...one wrong move. 

Loki: Oh, let me guess. Will it be "Ant, Boot"? Or "Puny God"? Or, better yet, the very original "I'll Kill You"?

Thor: Don't make me try it. 

Steve: Okay, settle down. We're just here to try some All-American BBQ. 

Tony: Not possible. 

Thor: Well, why not? It's definitely good enough. 

Tony: No offense, but you're kinda foreign. Not very American. 

Loki: Oh, fine. But, I mean, you're right. It's better than American. 

Natasha: Loki, just leave before I make you tell me what you're really up to. 

Loki: Make me? Oh, have fun with that, Red. What are you doing to do now, cry about Hawky some more? 

Natasha: *annoyed* I didn't cry. 

Loki: Oh, my bad, must have been an illusion. 

Natasha: Yeah, a fake one. 

Clint: Thanks for using me as leverage. 

Natasha: Oh, I'm sure you'd do the same for me. 

Bruce: Hello, I'm hungry!

Loki: *scowls* Fine....I'll give you All-American...*disappears*

Thor: Oh no. 

Steve: Should we be worried? 

Thor: Probably. 

Loki: *reappearing* Ta-da!

Tony: Okay, I'm not gonna lie, those look good. 

Loki: It's because they are. 

Steve: Well, we'll see. *takes a bite* If these aren't the gosh darn best ribs I've had in a long time, I don't know what is. 

Loki: *smugly* Told you, mortal. 

Steve: Hey, watch it, Frosty. 

Thor: *chokes* Did you just call him Frosty? 

Stark: How cute, it's Frosty and Capsicle! At least you're picking up my historical aptitude for accurate nicknames. And nobody says "gosh darn" anymore, Cap. 

Steve: You watch it too, Stark. Eat your ribs, for God's sake. 

Natasha: They're fine, I guess. 

Loki: Just "fine"? I apologize for not meeting your high standards, Ms. Romanoff. 

Natasha: *glares* They would be better if someone else made them. 

Loki: Oooh, ouch. And why, darling? Is this because I killed some people? Or because I'm adopted? Or just because you can't really beat me? 

Natasha: *mutters* I'm not the only one who's got red in my ledger. 

Loki: *rolls eyes* Yeah, whatever. 

Thor: Now that everyone's served, brother, I think you should go back where you belong. 

Loki: Where, Asgard? Oh, okay. Sure. Have fun running this BBQ shop by yourself. I prefer to be above people anyway, not at their level like you and your hobo friends. 

Tony: Hey, hey! Who owns a fleet of Lamborghinis? Me! Who owns six properties? Me!

Steve: I thought it was five? 

Tony: Bought another yesterday. Who has more money than you? Oh, right. Me! So watch out who you call a hobo. 

Loki: Well, judging by your current rate of rapidly impending mortality, I would say that you are indeed a hobo. A worthless little man hiding in a sardine can. Oh, look, I'm a poet and I didn't even know it. 

Bruce: Stop it....

Thor: Leave now and never come back!!

(People reading this story: Gollum????)

Loki: As you wish! Cheers, darlings. *winks and disappears* 

Thor: ...This was a terrible idea.