I/a
[For a grown man, Coulson sounds rather shy and uncertain. Usually he gives himself some time to prepare for talking to somebody but since the paintbrush has a mind of its own...]

Oh, uh. I see you have a brush, too?

I/b
[OR he might be trying to make his way back to the comforts of his books]

You wouldn't happen to have seen a high school around these parts?

I/c
[Alternatively, he can be found swinging his paint brush around as he highlights as much of the city as he can. It's pretty neat actually. Watch out for stray paint droplets.]


II
[It starts faintly at first. And then the closer this grown man gets to you, the clearer the words he's forming becomes. It goes faintly like:]

Whaatt iiiisSS HAPPENIIiiinngg!!!!!

[He zips past. A rabid lamp post in tow. There's a black paintbrush in his hands, along with some papers that are flying out of his white-knuckled grip. That is Recolle High School's finest American History teacher. Pray you have a second copy of that homework he's bound to lose]

Bonus
Uh... hello?