15th Command; text

[aggravating]

[So just a short while after this starts happening, a nice text message is being posted to the network.]

COME ONE, COME ALL
TO THE FIGHT OF THE CENTURY

Have you ever wondered what an actual red-blooded American Hero duking it out with a little more red-blooded Russian superspy would look like?

Have you ever wanted to just sit and watch as (this one's for you, ladies) one ridiculously muscled, eagle calling Adonis trades blows with a curvy, well-endowed, red-headed killing machine? Blows that might end up with one or both parties pinned and sweaty to the mat?

Then look no further, because this is a show that's currently happening in the gym. Unfortunately, you snooze you lose. So if you want in? Better come prepared with some sort of ticket trade-in. Energy drinks and random pieces of metal might land you up in the front rows. Sneak me some booze and you'll end up so close you're practically getting punched in the face.

Comments

[aggravating]

You want the key points or the extended list?

[useofaswhat]

I don't got the time for an overview. Are you an idiot? Is that the problem?

[aggravating]

Pretty sure being an idiot would go against the whole genius thing, so. No.

[Why are you so mad all he's doing is trying to profit off a sparring session straight out of a kung fu movie.]

[useofaswhat]

Trust me, genius don't necessarily preclude that. 'Course, could be you just got the morals of a flukeworm, that happens too.

[Because that is his inmate you're pimping out there, and if anyone gets to make her life miserable it's him.]

[aggravating]

The morals of a flukeworm? Gonna just... pretend I know what a flukeworm is and take that as an insult. [He's not debating it, though.

And yeah, no. Sorry. He's a teammate. And he's a teammate who's been stabbed in the neck and tricked by one Natasha Romanoff. He claims miserable-making authority.]