A cigar's light lit up the darkness of the night and it's smoked snaked through the air escaping into the night sky as Logan made his way into a small pub. He was by no means a regular here at the 'Broken Glass' as it was called, but his face had been seen once or twice in the past week at the pub. The old wood of the floor creaked because of the extra weight of Logan's skeleton as he made his way across to the bartender. He ordered a pint of beer, and began to slowly drink from it when it arrived. It wasn't long before trouble stirred up though, trouble seemed to follow Logan like a bad smell. 

Some local hicks had thought it was a great idea to try and pick a fight with Logan, obviously thinking that their number difference would give them the advantage over such a short, normal guy right? Wrong. Logan obviously wouldn't kill the men, they weren't exactly guilty of anything except being dickheads. He would, however, break a few bones. He cracked his metallic knuckles, and turned to the men as they slung mindless insults at him. He eventually interrupted them.
"Are you fucks gonna talk all night, or are you going to fight?" His voice was a low growl, the men just seemed to look at each other and laugh before readying into fighting positions. Logan rose from his chair, his thumbs hooked into his belt as he waited for a punch to come his way. When it did, it came from the left, Logan ducked to his right, grabbed the arm and chucked the owner of said arm across the pub and onto a table sitting against a wall. The next punch came from his right, Logan weaved under it and sent a literal rib-cracking punch into the chest of the guy. Logan then turned and done a sort of dempsey roll, dodging the swings coming from his opponent and sending punches to his opponents blindside. Of course, the man fell rather quickly. 

Logan stood in the centre of the pub, the two unconscious bodies beside him and another sleeping on the top of a rather dirty table. He pulled his cigar holder from his pocket before pulling a cigar from said holder. He raised his lighter to his mouth as he lit it before turning to meet a shotgun to his face.
"Just get out, I don't want trouble in this pub so just leave if you want to keep your face" Said the bartender. Logan just grinned, shaking his head. He picked his jacket up and left the pub safe in the knowledge that a shotgun posed as much threat to him in the long term as a water gun did. 

As he exited the pub, he was met with a rather weirdly proportioned, lanky man who tried to get his attention as Logan began to walk on his way. Logan was under the impression that the tall weirdo would leave him alone if he just ignored him. He realized this wasn't the case and turned and finally answered the man. As it turned out, S.H.I.E.L.D wanted him to come to something called a helicarrier. He'd probably have been glad if he knew who S.H.I.E.L.D was.

[b][i][u]The Next Day[/u][/i][/b]
Logan looked out of the window of the rather high-tec plane he was being flown to the 'helicarrier' on. He hated planes. Not heights or anything, just planes. He didn't understand them, how could something so massive and so heavy fly? And, for that matter, how did helicopters fly? It wasn't worth thinking about to be honest and Logan was more set on finding out why he was being taken to a 'helicarrier'.

He was guided by a S.H.I.E.L.D agent through the hanger and into an auditorium in which a group of teenagers and what seemed to be someone of military status inside the auditorium. Logan was surprised to also receive a salute from the two guards who, unbeknownst to him, had been briefed on Logan's rank and his rather....short temper. To tell the truth he probably wouldn't have even noticed if he hadn't been saluted, he was more focused on finding out why he was here and why he was in a room filled mostly with teenagers. His mind drifted back to 'Kindergarden Cop' and he shuddered with dread. He thought he'd at least try to be civil though and he made his way over to the group, his thumbs hooked into his belt. He pulled a cigar from his holder, but he was quickly informed by a guard that smoking was not prohibited in the auditorium. Logan grimaced at the guard, sliding it back into his holder and stuffing it into his back pocket. He turned to the group.
"Pretty official, this, eh?" He looked up to the ceiling of the auditorium and then back to the group.
"Does anyone actually know why we're here then?"