Heh heh heh. Rocket just shakes his head a little, grinning as he sets to taking some of this junk apart. Consider this a learning experience, kid. Much better to do it this way than setting your hair on fire, or something worse.

By the time Peter's come back, the raccoon is already surrounded by neat little piles of wire, batteries, and metal casings. Some of those components are already being assembled into some cobbled-together contraption in those little nimble hands. "Makin' a bomb," he answers casually, and pauses just long enough for the kid to take that in before he laughs. "It ain't the deadly type. Think your people call 'em flashbangs. Big light, big noise, doesn't hurt. Good for disorientin'."