Monsters, mutants and magic. 
It all came down to monsters, mutants and magic. Harold sighed after a long day at work. Sitting down at his desk, he reflected on his day. 
It all started like most days. A quick visit to 177A Bleecker Street. To make sure everything was as it should. The old home of Dr Strange tended to attract some unwanted attention from mystical trouble makers. The odd hedge wizard or witch trying to sneak in to see if they could recover any of the artefacts that used to be housed there. Given the buildings history, it was no surprise the MRD wanted to keep tabs on it, no matter how many times the building had Ben repossessed. After it became apparent that nothing was afoot on this particular day, Harold Hunter had to check on reports of a strange animal attack. NYPD forensic scientists said it didn’t match anything in their database, which meant it would be one of the three ‘M’s. This particular instance was a mutant. Not Harold’s usual enemy, but he would still get payed. He just wished that the mutant hadn’t gotten its claws into him. 
Harold rolled his stiff shoulder. The Blood Gem serum had boosted his healing, and he was grateful for it. Though it was still a bit tender. The damn mutant nearly tore his arm clean off. He wasn’t sure the magic coursing through his veins would be enough to regrow a whole limb. 
Unlocking the top drawer of his desk, he placed his service sidearm inside and closed it. Locking it again. Harold then opened drawer beneath it and produced a bottle of whiskey. “You know your not supposed to drink at work.” A familiar voice said from behind Harold. “Shove it up your ass, Ainsley.” Was Harold’s response as he opened the bottle. “Hey, you know I won’t tell Sharon,” The man known as Ainsley said as he took a seat on the corner of Harold’s desk. Harold took a swig of the whiskey. There was a number of things Harold wanted to say. A witty retort about how Sharon never had her arm nearly removed, so she couldn’t tell them not to drink. A less witty remark about how he shouldn’t have to deal with rogue mutants if the boys upstairs did their job. Instead he remained silent and offered Ainsley the bottle. The older gentleman took the bottle and took a swig himself. “Busy day?” Ainsley asked. “That’s one word for it, was Harold’s half hearted reply. “We’ll drink up.” Ainsley put the bottle down in front of Harold. “Sharon said they’re not letting us take leave until this Hammer thing is sorted out.” 
Harold took a swig. “You know, I could use a sparring partner. I was going to take my wife out for a vacation, and I got to work some of that anger out before I do something that’ll make me lose my job,” Ainsley said. He stood up, and patted Harold on the back. “I’ll see you in the training room.” With that, Ainsley headed off to the elevator and left. Leaving Harold alone with his thoughts.