Hey, everybody. Clint Barton, aka: Hawkeye here. I kinda hijacked this random blog because that movie of the Avengers Initiative just came out, and I kinda want to get my side of the story out. Y'know, before people out there get the wrong idea, or come away from that film thinking my life is like a James Bond movie come to life. Because it isn't, really. See, you have to understand, and I say this without ego or arrogance, that I am the best archer in the world. Seven billion people on this planet, and I know for a fact that if there was an official ranking, I would be number one. Fact. Again, I'm not trying to brag or anything, but I can shoot the pollen sacs off a bee's knees at 200 yards with a bow and arrow set that you get from a toy store. That's not hyperbole, either. I've done it. I've also used six inches of thread, three toothpicks and a sewing needle to shoot lengthwise through an earthworm at fifty yards without killing it. Yes. I am that good. That's why I got headhunted by SHIELD in the first place, you see.
Now, it's the type of skill that you get from long, hard hours of practice starting when you're five years old. I saw that Disney Robin Hood movie, and it kind of lit a fire under my butt, as they say. You know that 'Outliers' theory of how it takes 10,000 hours to get any good at anything? Well, I've probably spent three or four times that amount on practicing my archery skills, and of course, it doesn't hurt that I've got 20/20 perfect vision, besides. Bear in mind that I have to train like an Olympic athlete constantly to keep my body in prime shape to fire a bow as well as I do, and I think you can appreciate all the effort that I've put into being so skilled at my job here with SHIELD.
Which is a good thing, really, because if you stop to think about it, there really aren't a lot of jobs out there for archery experts, unless you want to teach archery classes. Which I don't. I guess it started when I tried out for the 2008 Olympics for the American team. You have to apply in Switzerland, so I flew there and figured I was a shoo-in, right? Guess again. You see, I figured I'd impress the judges by giving them my party piece, the Eight-Bounce-Rotating Christmas Light Grape Split. (That's the one where I'm strapped to a rotating board spinning horizontally and blindfolded. Then I fire my FITA regulation arrow across a 250 yard field, angling the shot so it deflects off eight different curved surfaces, splits a grape in half at the 125 yard mark, and finally hits a rotating LED light on the other side of the field.) Nailed it first try. Didn't need to warm up or anything. You'd think the American team would be collectively crapping themselves with glee, right? Unfortunately, the judges all agreed that I was too good to compete and turned me down! What the hell, right? I was devastated! On the flight home, however, a recruiter from SHIELD had caught my tryout, and offered me a job as a junior field agent. Lucky break, as I was headed back home to try and get a job as a summer camp counselor. Christ, a talent like mine, wasted on babysitting fat, middle-class kids how to shoot a bow. Obviously, I took the job there on the spot.Like you'd do any different if you were in my shoes.
Training for SHIELD was a relative breeze for me, mainly because I already have a strict training regimen in place, and they put me out in the field after about a year. Don't get me wrong, the pay is good, about 72k a year, and I've got full dental and health coverage. Plus, for a government agency, they've got a pretty competitive RRSP program. Nick Fury, the head of SHIELD, is a little rough around the edges, but he's a good guy, basically. Doesn't beat around the bush or lapse into a lot of corporate-speak. Morale's pretty good, and it's great being part of a team of people who are all motivated, committed, and the best at what they do. Seriously, even the janitors have post-secondary educations around here.
But I guess the trouble started when Fury, God bless him, went and started up that Avengers Initiative program of his. Now, I never volunteered for it in the first place, I just kinda got shanghai-ed into it when that Nordic Pete Campbell look-alike with the horns brainwashed me with that gay-ass hockey stick of his. Agent Romanov saved my ass, and in a misplaced bit of esprit d'corps, I came alone with the rest of Fury's freak show. I'm not trying to sound bitter, but frankly, it's a little frustrating at times, given my position. Here's what I mean:
First off, you've got Iron Man, Thor, The Hulk, and Captain America. Then you've got Agent Romanov, and me. Those first four guys all got to where they were not because of hard work, but because of weird space-time anomalies-Thor, shitloads of cash-Iron Man, or science gone horribly, tragically wrong-Captain America and Hulk. Meanwhile, me and Romanov got to be the best at what we do because of all the hard work and sacrifice we've put into our skill sets. So you can understand why I might come across as a little disappointed now and then. For example, most of the enemies that the Avengers fight can fly. Me and Agent Romanov can't. Well, neither can Steve Rogers, but he can just grab onto Thor or the Hulk, or Iron Man and they can carry him anywhere. Honestly, would it break the bank for someone to whip up a couple of rocket belts for us? We can't hitch a ride like Rogers, as the g-forces generated by those guys, and the Hulk too, would rip us to shreds! So most of the time, well, practically all of the time, Romanov and me wind up doing crowd control. You know, coordinate with the cops and the National Guard to get the civilians off the streets and out of harm's way and that stuff. And guess who's the first person the insurance people start screaming at once the battle's over and everyone has to start the cleaning up? Let's just say I never dreamed that carrying a folder full of claims forms and pens with the SHIELD logo on them would become the most used part of my equipment belt. The only time I've used up my arrow quiver was that first battle with the Chithtaki. After that, two, maybe three arrows a battle. If I'm lucky. And usually, it's a signal flare to show the Hulk where to go to 'smash' stuff. Good God.
Again, I've come to accept that that's part of the job when I signed on. Fury's always saying, 'Those who serve stand just as tall as those who fight.". Of course, he also says, "Motherfucker, I got to testify at a Senate Budget hearing why SHIELD caused $160 billion in damages defending Manhattan from an alien onslaught. Get out of my face with that shit!" Again, rough around the edges. But guess who has to file a bunch of reports and submit reams of forms to fill out in triplicate when it's all done? Not Tony Stark, that's for sure. "Whoo! Go team! Good save, good save!" and then, "Well, off to St. Moritz for a little R and R! I think I've earned it! Bye!" God forbid you should grab a broom and help sweep up all this broken glass, Tony. Asshole actually had the nerve to joke about getting me a collapsible broom to go with my collapsible bow.
Don't get me started about Stark. Fuck that guy, he's the biggest showoff grandstanding prick that I've ever met. Yeah, the movies give him all the good one-liners. But just once, I'd like to see a scene where Stark says all that other smug, pompous bullshit. Like, "Hey, I just realized! I made over 200k by just standing here! Isn't that insane?" and "You know, the amount of gold in one of my suits could feed a Nepalese village for six years?", and my favorite Stark-ism of all time, "Ok, Barton, you fly up to the top of that building and blast- ah, ha, ha, ha! Oh, that's right! You don't have a flying armored suit like me, do you? Well, Katniss, you stay here and help Mr. Policeman keep people away from the boom-booms!" At least he's stopped calling me 'Legolas'. Oh, Tony Stark, comedy is your middle name, isn't it? Certainly isn't 'generous', either. Get this- Mr. Richer than God, in a rare and uncharacteristic display of selflessness, takes us all out for schwarmas after that one battle. Gee, Tony, thanks. Are you sure it won't clean out your vast financial empire? And the entire time, he's reminding everyone that it's on him, and no one has to pay for it, and hey, Cap! Your money's no good here! Ha, fucking ha. Over a six dollar schwarma. If I hadn't had anything to eat for the past day, what with fighting off an alien invasion and saving the Earth and all that, I'd have told Gandhi there to stuff it up his 1percenter asshole.
Then there's Captain America. Steve Rogers. Ok, he's a solid tactician. And when it comes down to it, he will watch your back. From time to time. Rogers' thing, though, is that he's a 70 year old man in the body of a superman. So from time to time there's a slight disconnect with him. First off, he absolutely refuses to use any piece of technology more complicated than a gun. Computers, Iphones, even car stereos are a mystery to him. Forget about trying to teach him either. One of the techs at head office said that when he was going through his integration process, you know, bringing him up to speed on modern technology, he got so frustrated at trying to use a mouse for a computer, he put his fist through the monitor and sulked off for the rest of the day. So unlike everyone else at SHIELD, he has to fill out his forms on paper. With a pencil. I swear to you on a stack of bibles, I saw him utterly enthralled by a retractable ballpoint pen. Click. Click. Click. He just couldn't get over the fact that the greatest miracle of the 21st century involved pressing a switch on a pen, and having the tip retract into it so as not to leak ink onto one's shirt. By the way, guess who gets stuck with hanging onto Rogers' report forms? That's right, me. And Rogers loves filling these things out! He loves it! And because SHIELD's forms have to be submitted in triplicate, and because Rogers and Xerox machines are like fire and water, he just sits down and fills out all his forms three times, happy as a form-filling clam! (The only time he ever tried to use the 'mimeograph of the future' as he called it, cost SHIELD $12,000 in damaged copy machines. That's machines, plural.)
Like I said, he's a fundamentally nice guy, and I do feel bad ripping on the dude. But talking to him can be a little annoying. First off, he tends to reminisce about the good old days a little too much. As 70 year olds are apt to do. "Two dollars for a Coke? Are they made with gold now? And why are they in these flimsy cans? What crazy world is this?" It's like hanging out with someone else's granddad, who's starting to get a bit senile. Secondly, and I feel really bad for saying this, but Rogers does come across as kind of racist and sexist without meaning to, and it can get, well awkward. At our very first meeting of the Avengers Initiative, where we were all in the flying aircraft, Fury was laying out the plan of attack against Loki and the Chithuri in his usual methodical and patient way. Then he says, 'Any questions?'. Rogers' hand goes up. And he asks, "Do you negroes go to negro universities now, or do you people attend Harvard with the regular folks?" Fury almost hit the roof, but he fought to keep his cool. That throbbing vein in his temple told me otherwise. Stark, class act that he was, thought it was the funniest thing he had ever heard, and almost pissed himself with glee. Good thing your suit has a urine filter, huh, Tony? Suffice it to say that Rogers has spent a long time in sensitivity training at SHIELD H.Q. since then.
As for the sexism thing, well, Rogers means well, but he's a man out of time. He assumes all the women who work at SHIELD are lesbians. He's not a homophobe or anything, he just assumes that any woman who's not married and staying at home with the kids is either an unlovable old maid, or a dyke. Don't get me wrong, he respects the work the female staff here do, and he's willing to give credit where credit is due, but he just assumes by default that any woman who works here that doesn't look like a pinup girl...is gay. Actually, it took him a couple of months to realize that Agent Hill, Fury's aide, was a woman and not a sixteen year old boy. That was an awkward moment. And a long-ass 'sensitivity seminar' by our H.R. department.
Onto Thor. Good Lord, what an insecure, needy twit. Hey, God of Thunder, here's a tip: Women don't care if you 'have Yggdrasil The Tree of Worlds in your pants!' Ok? Talking to him is a nightmare. It's all, 'Yon Mortals' this and 'Thou hast' that. It's like he's cosplaying Game of Thrones 24-7. And every. Single. Time. He has to bring up that he's a god of thunder on his homeworld. Yeah, thanks, Thor. Got it. Then there's that damn hammer of his. Being a Thunder god, he tends to leave it lying around because he's too important to carry it with him. So when he needs to get it, he holds his hand out to call it to him. Pretty neat trick, right. Well, consider that it weighs like a ton. And consider that it moves really, really fast. When he's at SHIELD H.Q., that oversized Sears Craftsman tool can, and has, caused some real damage to the interior of the carrier. So it was off to another 'safety training' session with good old Thor. And some OSHA safety lights for his hammer.
While I'm on 'training seminars', let me bring up the Hulk. Good old mopey Dr. Bruce Banner. "Hey, Doc, how are you today?" "Well, didn't turn green and huge today, but my life still sucks!" "Ok, nice talking to you, bye!" I hate to bring this up, but the one facet of the Hulk the movies and comics never go into is this: Because of his gamma ray mutation, and the way human physiology is, every time Banner has to go number 2...he has to turn into the Hulk! Think about that for a moment, would you? Actually, no. Don't. It has something to do with the muscles in the lower torso, and how they set off his biochemistry or something. I don't know this first hand, but the Hulk's dumps are apparently about the size and weight of a six month old baby! That's probably the real reason Banner hides out in third-world shitholes. Outhouses and farm ditches are better equipped to handle his..Urgh. So naturally, he broke every toilet at H.Q. that he used. The tech boys came up with a super-crapper for him, which set the taxpayers back, oh, about half a million dollars. It's about the size of a small hot tub. Eight fans to diffuse the smell. As you've figured out by now, the Hulk doesn't wipe. Let's move on, okay?
The other thing about the Hulk is that he doesn't have the capacity to understand basic social norms. Like, don't fart in the middle of an Avengers pre-fight strategy session, okay? We all stand downwind from him now. Oh, and no amount of 'sensitivity seminars' will help the Hulk realize that it's bad to fondle yourself behind a female agent. He always has this creepy leer on his face, too. And a thin sliver of drool. One good thing, though, is since he's a violent rage monster, he tends to punch Thor and Iron Man for no reason if they're nearby. Hey, I laughed.Not out loud of course. No sense in getting a bolt of lightning up my ass or hot plasma in my face.
Finally, there's the big issue of me and Agent Romanov. By which I mean that having that sweet, leather-clad ass of hers in my face all the time is really getting frustrating. First off, they've got an iron-clad policy here at SHIELD over fraternization between staff members. Super-secret government agency, remember? We all have to sign a ten page document specifically regarding these policies. (Except for Rogers, who had to attend a three day seminar complete with Powerpoint presentations, roleplaying sessions, and I believe they even went so far as to hook him up to some sort of Pavlovian shock chair to rein him in. And he had to sign a stack of papers as thick as 'War and Peace'. Not that he minded, of course.) Secondly, even if there wasn't that 'sexual harassment' thing, Romanov's got more issues than a magazine rack. One time, after we got done sweeping up Cincinnati, I suggested her and I go for a drink. After eight hours of paperwork and meeting with the City Council and the insurance guys, I was punchy, and just wasn't thinking. It was a totally innocent reflex action in that case. Two co-workers at the 'end of the road' and all, right? Well,Romanov gets all quiet and looked at me like I was Darkseid or something. And sure enough, the next day at SHIELD H.Q., I get hauled into H.R. and get written up. Total bullshit. Let's just say cold showers have become a vital part of my training regimen.
In conclusion, that's my story. Top rated archer in the world, super spy with advanced government agency...and stuck doing clean-up behind the elephant. Thank you, God. Thank you so very fucking much.
Balls.
