Avengers Hotline

A mini story about how I dialed this imaginary Avengers Hotline to request for Iron Man to fly me to school, in which Hulk picked up and continued to recommend his service, despite my annoyance.

I dialed the Avengers Hotline.

“HEL–HELLO.”

A burly voice exploded over the phone. “GOOD AFTERNOON. Avengers Hotline, established since New York’s extra-terrestrial invasion and the unsuccessful attempt to conquer earth by the Puny God, hereby offers you heroic assistance of all variety. In no particular order, here are the members of the Avengers Team as well as S.H.I.E.L.D. that are available for service: Hulk, Black Widow, Thor, Nick Fury, HULK, Hawkeye, Captain America, Iron Man/Tony Stark, the Ghost of Phil, and HULK. Who do you wish to request today?”

“I—wait, is this Hulk?” I couldn’t believe it.

“SMASH.” Which I took as a YES. “Who do you wish to request today?”

Well, I needed someone to fly me to my university, so I didn’t have to bus for an hour and a half.  “Uh—Iron Man. Mr. Tony Stark.”

“Negative. Tony Stark is making out with his ego and is therefore unavailable. May I suggest my incredibly green self for whatever service you require?”

What on earth was Hulk doing answering phones anyway. “But I need someone who can fly. How about Thor?”

“Negative. He’s whacking moles with his mjolnir. May I once again suggest myself for whatever service you require?”

I was getting irritated. “That’s fine,” I said. “But I need—“

“SMASH. May I propose that I abduct a plane on your behalf, for your personal transportation, ma’am?”

“But it’s not like you can fly it.”

Silence.

“Okay,” I slapped my forehead with my hand. “How about Captain America?”

Hulk seemed offended. “He can’t fly, either!”

“But he’s hot,” I muttered. “And he’s a superb strategist. I’m sure he’ll figure something out for me.”

“Negative,” Hulk pressed on. “He’s trying to figure out how to use wi-fi on his iPhone 5. He is unavailable also.”

“Hawkeye, then?” I said hopefully.

“Robin Hood? Negative. He went cuckoo in his nest, flinging Angry Birds at torso-less green pigs.”

“Okay,” I said. “Okay. What about the rest of the Avengers team?”

“Black Widow is available.” I heard typing, and a momentary pause, and an angry smash. I assumed that Hulk had smashed the keyboard. Well, his fingers were probably too fat.

“I’ll pass.”

“Why?”

I gaped at his stupidity, which he couldn’t see, of course. “I’M—A—GIRL—!”

“May I suggest—”

“I don’t want your service, Hulk,” I said sulkily. “All you do is smash.”

And then the phone went dead, after roars of outrage and chest-bumps, and the clanking of metals breaking against the floor.

Advertisements