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Deadpool (2016 Film)

The Proposition


"You know you wanna look at it..." the man in red begins suggestively, standing much too close to the angry Canadian in the room.

"Who even let you the fuck in here, Wade?"

"Negasonic Teenage Sweet-Britches...I know that sounds like all kinds of wrong, but it's a little joke between me and her, totally kosher, I promise...you know, because her name is, like, hella-CRAZY for me to—"

"Get away from me, Wade..."

"It's only three words, but—Damn! And I have to at least try, because when I call her 'Cannonball' she fuckin' punches me in the nuts..."

"Wade!"

"Aww...c'mon! Huh? What?" Wade skips around to cut him off, pantomiming an over-the-top display of coquettish butt-hurt by clasping the back of his hands together under his chin; he tilts his head like a little bitch, and by the movement of the eye-sockets of his mask it is apparent that he's batting his eyelids furiously. "You tryna hurt my widdle fee-wings?" Wade coos at his host.

"I'm gonna stick these claws where the sun don't shine if I have to tell you again to get the fuck away from me, bub," the big, angry beast snarls in Deadpool's face, his claws protracted and itching to make contact with the insane merc, now dancing a crazy pirouette before him. "I don't even want to know what crazy drug you're on, Wade, but you ain't..." the mutant lunges at Deadpool and just barely misses shredding the chest of his suit, "...wearin' it well! Argh!"

"See, I knew you were going to do that—where are your manners, Logan? You fuck this suit up and I swear my new designer will not be pleased—do you know that this leather is imported? Right out of the butt-crack of a wardrobe mistress on a Hazaribagh Bollywood set!" Wade whips his head away exasperatedly. "Hey, you—yeah you, reading this—get a load of this guy, would ya?"

Wade is snapped back to attention by finding himself, and his ass, jettisoned away from Wolverine, and now up close and personal with a paneled wall.

"Ouch. For five seconds. But congrats, dude..." Deadpool says as he peels himself away from the wall; Wolverine only glares menacingly at him. "Welcome to 'Rated R', man—it's about time we all saw some blood on those claws, huh? Don't tell China!" Deadpool slaps his hand over his mouth. "Oopsie!"

"You're here to gloat...why am I not surprised."

"Hell yeah, I'm here to gloat—and the next time around..." Deadpool does a fast moonwalk over to his handsome anti-colleague, whips around and lays his head against Wolverine's heaving chest, "...I wanna gloat with you..." the register of his voice drops down dramatically to a coy, breathy whisper, "...bub..."

Wolverine gives a hard smack to the top of Deadpool's head. "Get offa me, you maniac," he growls as he pushes him away.

"Look at it, Logan..." Deadpool pleads, "look...at the magnificence in my hand—" He holds out the impressive piece in his hand for Wolverine to take hold of. "It's for you—and for me—we're meant to be, Logan, stop denying it...we did it once before and we were GREAT together! You know that we were!"

Wolverine is sickeningly reminded of every badly-overacted Hollywood "B" movie he's ever seen and grimaces. "You fuckin' nut case..."

"Is there any other kind?" Deadpool asks an invisible friend with a tilt of his head, his voice dripping with naked condescension.

"Wade—enough is enough!"

"Okay...okay...all joking aside...really...for real...for true..." Deadpool slaps his package into Wolverine's hand, "...just read it, before you say no outright; it was always supposed to be me and you, we're Weapon X, man! Those were some damn fine times, right?"

Wolverine glowers at him and takes a threatening step in Deadpool's direction.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Okay, maybe not so much," Deadpool reluctantly concedes as he holds up his hands. "Stand down, soldier. Look, I know the studios think we're box-office murder/suicide, but hell—nobody thought I could get mine off—or the film, either..."

"Wade! I'm warning you!" Wolverine barks at him, "cut it with the bullshit, already..."

The two men stare each other down for a beat before Deadpool looks away from him."Now, that's a challenge if I ever heard one...what do you guys think? Huh? No? Yes?"

"Wade!'

"What! Jeez! Why do you always have to be so difficult?"

"Alright, you whiny bitch, if it'll get you the fuck outta here—yes—I'll read it—I can't make any promises...hell, I'm on borrowed time, myself..."

"That's what I'm sayin', Big Guy! Go out right! You go out with me you'll go out with a bang, man! A real bang, too—like the ones I got in my scenes with Vanessa! Huh? Yeah?" Deadpool elbows Wolverine on a hard, twitching bicep. Seconds later he is a heap on the stone steps of Charles Xavier's Westchester mansion.

"Yeah...okay...thanks, buddy!" Deadpool yells out at the closed door as he gets up and dusts himself off; he becomes aware that he is the Spectacle Du Jour for the many students mutanting themselves about campus and gives the stink eye to one little boy, with, what looks like a rhinoceros horn protruding from his forehead, and red, glowing fingertips that look like they should be burning holes in the notebook clutched in his hand.

"You know, when you grow up—which will probably be tomorrow—I know some girls that will totally dig what you're puttin' down, if you get what I mean..." Deadpool winks at the bewildered boy. Suddenly, the boy looks beyond him, as if he's being called by someone, and then scampers dutifully away.

"Wade—it's time for you to go, now..."

"Aw, fuck! Get outta my head, Xavier! I'm going, already...you couldn't be in my movie...that's okay, you bald, pedophile fuck—and you too, Logan—I bet Darwin'll be happy to see my ass...and the rest of me, too..." Deadpool mutters as he heads to his car.