Once again, the Avengers were in the middle of saving the world. Also once again they were fighting an army of evil robots trying to take over New York City, which had gained sentience after Tony created them (again). Also once again, Clint and Natasha were paired up against the robots, and even though they were the two least super-powered people on the team, the robots were still going down like total punks.

"This is so easy," Natasha said, leaping onto a robot and ripping its poorly-attached head off. "Good thing we had all that training."

"Yeah," said Clint, shooting at and hitting three robots in turn without even looking. "Taking Amtrak to and from the farm totally helps with killer robots."

Natasha paused. "Amtrak?"

"You know, train-ing?" Clint looked over at Natasha. "Get it? It's a pun joke."

"Oh," said Natasha, dryly, karate-chopping two particularly sinister-looking robots into oblivion. "You were talking about those vehicles that make the chuff-chuff sound, not what we did in the gym. Very funny."

"Exactly." Clint nodded, then paused. "Wait, that's how you define a train? A vehicle that makes the chuff-chuff sound?"

"It's a good enough definition for me." Natasha picked up a robot and hurled it into the air. Clint shot it with one of his newest arrows, and an instant later the robot was mummified in packing tape.

"So," said Clint, loading another arrow, "By your definition, if I was to put a speaker on my wife's car that played a recording of a steam locomotive, would it count as a train?"

"Noooo..." Natasha facepalmed. "The vehicle making the chuff-chuff sound has to be on rails."

"What if I drove the car on the train tracks like in Back to the Future III?"

"Ugh, you watched that movie?"

"Sadly, yes." Clint took his frustration with said movie franchise out on another six robots with a single laser arrow. "But you avoided my question. Would that or wouldn't that make my wife's car a train?"

"It has to make the sound organically."

"So if I put a steam engine on the car...?"

Natasha held up her hand. "Never mind."

"And wait," Clint said, "The train I take between here and my house has a diesel engine. It doesn't make the chuff-chuff sound – it just has a deep rumble."

"Well then," said Natasha, sarcastically, while electrocuting four robots at once (one with each limb), "It's obviously not a real train."

"Nat – a train is a set of vehicles strung together that all ride on rails. They don't have to make the chuff-chuff sound."

"My definition's cooler," Natasha said. "Wait a sec," she continued, "We have a quinjet. Why do you take freaking Amtrak to and from work?"

Clint shrugged. "What can I say? I like trains!"

"But they're not real trains!" Natasha countered. "They're just..." she paused. "They're just planes without wings, obviously!" she finished.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but it sounds like you're describing me, not a train." Tony swooped overhead in his suit, wrestling the biggest and evillest of the robots, which could also fly.

"Wait," Clint said, "Everyone on the comms could hear that whole conversation?"

"Sadly, yes," Clint heard Fury's voice in his ear.

Clint facepalmed. For the rest of his life, he would never think of his commutes on Amtrak the same way again.