Cain really sucked at this. Luckily he would never have to worry about having kids. If he couldn't comfort a girl that didn't look too far from his own age, how the hell was he going to be able to comfort a child? He sighed and scooped up the cereal on the counter, dumping it into his bowl. "Shit, I don't know. I'm no good at this."
He spooned up a big spoonful of cereal and wolfed it down. "Look," he tried again, once he'd finished that first spoonful. "I'm not a good guy. 'Bout the only thing I know how to do is kill things. I can lift up buildings and use them like clubs, I can survive heavy tank fire with barely a minute or two of unconsciousness, and on the off-chance something does manage to actually hurt I've been tortured so much my pain threshold's somewhere up in the millions. I should be pretty much unstoppable, right?" He gestured at nothing with his spoon. "But every single time I run into the X-Men, I get beat. Every last time. I might put up a good fight, but in the end I get beat and they save the people they wanted to save. The only two that are even close to me are that metal Russian coward and Wolverine, and neither of them are even all that dependable so they aren't always with them." He wasn't getting angry. He would have normally, but the intent here was to be comforting, not terrifying. "So what I'm saying here is that people that I should, by all rights, be able to squash like tiny little bugs manage to beat me. So even the mightiest people you can imagine? Can be brought down by the good guys. I don't get it, I really don't, but it doesn't change the facts. A bunch of whiny dorks lead by a retarded hippie cripple can beat the Juggernaut consistently."
Yeah, he wasn't sure what he was even saying, at this point. "Shit. I'm sorry. That probably didn't help." He just sighed and shoved another big spoonful of cereal into his mouth.