Opponents Beware, Opponents Beware. I'm coming. Like Washington.

Hi! My name is Bob and I'm an Agent of SHIELD. HAIL SHIELD! It's been less than a week since my last post and already so much has happened. And in the upcoming days, I'm going to have to be a real man! Because Wolverine, you has some 'splaning to do. But I'll get to that in a moment.

So, Mr. Wilson - aka Deadpool known as the Merc with a Mouth - kidnapped me again. He also shot me. Again. In the hand. .................Again. And the foot this time as well. I can barely walk, let alone hold a gun, so Miss Hill - aka Maria Hill known for her manliness apparently (I don't see it) - has me doing mental exercises. I'm not sure which is worse, mental or physical training, but I'm beginning to hate both! Unless Natalia Romanova - aka Black Widow - is teaching me. (She kissed me! It had to have been one of the best kisses - if not best - of my entire life. Thank god my wife doesn't read this.)

Anyways, Miss Hill's mental exercises consisted of scenarios in which I had to tell her how exactly I would get in and get out without being noticed. Her advice: be confident! (Needless to say, I'm going to fail that physical exercise when we get to it.) She didn't like my Mission Impossible answers, to say the least. I wonder why. I thought they were clever and cute, kind of. (But I'm sure Miss Hill likes real manly men, which I'm not...I mean, I am! Of course I am. Only manly men listen to the Carpenters and admit it!) For example, Miss Hill would say I was at a post office - how would I get in unnoticed and retrieve whatever it is that is needed? It took me a few tries, but I'm starting to get the hang of this SHIELD work.

So in regards to my earlier comment about Wolverine, it seems I have grown attached to Miss Hill. I'm not sure whether that's good or bad, but I do know that I don't like Wolverine shoving her around and ruining her office. It was a wreck when I went to look for her dog tags. (Which, no, I have yet to find. It's a hard task, okay? Give me a break.) Her desk was slashed and she had tons of holes in the wall. It was terrible; like a bad set from a horror film or something! So, with Mr. Wilson's help I'm off to interrogate him. Because, dammit, I am a man! And I am a badass! (Or at least that's what Miss Hill keeps telling me.) Watch out, Wolverine, because here comes Bob!