Chapter 2

Surprised as he was, Deadpool prepared for the worst. He swiftly reloaded all of his guns and drew out his swords. He must not have been wary enough however, because a voice sounded behind him.

"Hello, Wade!" the voice exclaimed.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. How could I not notice if someone was behind me!?"

Because he's Santa Claus.

"Santa Claus?" surely enough, when Deadpool turned around, there was standing Jolly Ol' Saint Nick.

"I see you haven't been very good this year," the bearded man spoke. "But that doesn't mean you can't help me."

"WHOA! Wait a minute!! You can't be Santa Claus!! He doesn't exist!!" Deadpool protested.

"But he does," the old man professed, "He's right in front of you."

"Okay, whoever you are, get out of my comic! Get your own story!"

"Comic? What?"

"Never mind. Anyway what is this thing you need my help with, and why should I help you?"

"Because, the balance of Christmas lies in your hands!" this Santa character said more solemnly. "In this low economy, this day is the only solace for some people."

"But, Christmas," Deadpool pondered out loud, "Isn't that the day crime rates are the highest?"

"Sadly, yes." Santa looked down with deep disappointment in his eyes. "I have noticed this develop over the last one thousand years."

"Then, wouldn't it be best for there to be no Christmas?" Santa looked at Deadpool in disbelief.

"Wade Wilson, Christmas is not a time of crime, it is a time of giving, a time to remember the years, a time to praise God, a time... to love." After a long pause, Santa looked him in the eye for a longer period of time. "And you're going to help me save it, right?"

Deadpool thought about it for some time. Helping Santa to save Christmas, hmmm. Would I be praised as a hero, or would people mock me because of how ridiculous is sounds... But, this might be the only thing I've done worth while in my life. Hey, whoa there, Wade!! You almost started to develop a conscience! But still...

After thinking about it, Deadpool finally responded, "What's in it for me?"

Santa groaned. "Alright, it means more punks for you to beat up."

"Sweet!"

"Now, into the sleigh."

"What?! Alright, you never said anything about riding in that huge, disturbing, reindeer-smelling joy ride of yours!" At this remark, Donner snorted as if to indicate he was offended.

"Of course not, you can just ride hanging from the back. You wouldn't mind that, would you?"

Deadpool groaned. "Shotgun." Santa smiled knowing he had won. He hopped into the front with surprising agility for his age, not to mention his weight. He grabbed hold of the reins and made sure everything was shipshape around the sleigh. "So," Deadpool remarked, "How do you start this thing !!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The sleigh took off into the air and flew through time and space. Deadpool felt every nerve in his body tingle and his muscles tense up. He felt his face falling apart. He tried to say, "ARE WE THERE YET?!" but his ironic humor was disabled somehow. Everything was numbing to him. Finally,

just as all of reality seemed like it was about to explode, the sleigh stopped.

They were in a flat, snowy wasteland. Snow flakes fell from the frostbitten country. The only civilization he could make out was a large cabin the size of the Pentagon. But that was up in flames. He could here faint screams in the distance.

"Son," the now less Jolly man spoke up, "this was the North Pole."