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It’s me. The mysterious guy in the action movie that those bad guys definitely shouldn’t have messed with.

What did they do? I don’t know. Stole my car? Messed with my dog? Put the neighbor kid who’s my only friend in the world in danger? Does it really matter? Point is, they thought I’m a normal guy, when in reality, I’m actually some sort of well-dressed secret-agent-meets-martial-arts-expert. And now, they’re gonna pay. Or whatever.

Sorry if I sound a little disillusioned. It’s just, you have to understand, I spent years of intensive training to become the super soldier I am. My handlers didn’t want to leave behind any traces of my previous life that might distract me–so they messed with my memory–and they didn’t want me to leave any trace behind–so they burned off my fingerprints.

Now, I finally emerge back into the world, ready to lead a normal life, and what do I find? Everything requires you to either remember a password or use your thumbprint.

Seriously, I could fend off an army of kung-fu fighting henchmen with one hand and disarm a bomb with the other, but it takes me twenty minutes to log into my laptop. And when I say I forgot my password, it asks me a bunch of random stuff. Like, what’s the name of your first pet? I don’t know! I can say “any last words” in 56 languages. Can’t that be one of the security questions?

But this is the ultimate insult. I’ve been looking for the perfect lock to secure my home, which appears to be a typical suburban house but features a series of… uh… let’s call them security upgrades. And this TACKLIFE is perfect: easy-to-install, bump-proof, grade 3, and auto-locking.

Only, it requires a code or a fingerprint scan.

C’mon!

Maybe I just need to go to a brain doctor and get the memory thing fixed. Or get someone to burn a set of fingerprints back onto my fingers. But then the doctor or the finger printer will probably get taken hostage by some crime boss and I’ll have to use my special set of skills to free them.

Ugh. It just never ends, you know?