Don't call me Legolas

Clint made me stop dead in the middle of rush hour traffic in the city so he could yell out to some guy and ask him what his dog's name was.

This was very important business.

If it wasn't bad enough that Clint's always hiding in the vents, now Hulk has started trying to find his hiding spots in the most destructive way possible.

Hey! Leave us alone. We're playing hide and seek.

ℑ 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔢𝔫𝔧𝔬𝔶𝔢𝔡 𝔠𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔅𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔬𝔫'𝔰 𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔶 𝔣𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔰. ℑ 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔢𝔫𝔧𝔬𝔶𝔢𝔡 𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔲𝔠𝔨 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔰.

So that's why I woke up in bed, and not in the vents like last year.

I asked Clint what he wanted to do for his birthday, and he said he wanted a pizza party. It's like having another kid, I swear.

What's wrong with a pizza party? Or knowing what I want, eh?

Nothing's wrong with it, Cupid. You can have as much pizza as you want on your birthday. Now someone's sounding a little grumpy. You want some chocolate milk and a nap?

You know what, chocolate milk sounds amazing.

I asked Clint what he wanted to do for his birthday, and he said he wanted a pizza party. It's like having another kid, I swear.

What's wrong with a pizza party? Or knowing what I want, eh?

ℑ𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔬𝔠𝔠𝔲𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔬𝔬𝔰 ℑ'𝔪 𝔤𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔣 ℑ ƙׁׅ֑𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔪𝔞ƙׁׅ֑𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔐𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔡𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔶 𝔰ƙׁׅ֑𝔦𝔫 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔰𝔰. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔐𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔣𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔩𝔢.

Hey Buddy, we're *lucky* if we make it to 80 years.