Do not own anything Disney, Marvel or Fox (Certainly not the Fox version of Deadpool, you can keep that garbage!)
Ah, assassinations...it always makes me feel so alive! Especially when they're hard to kill...although I do feel bad they're mostly college students and one of them is basically Catholic priest bait, although he has a giant robot defending him, so I am absolutely justified to kill him...pretty much like Megatron in Michael Bay's garbage excuse of a movie. Although, maybe I could fake some deaths of some these very cute babes.
That's when a disk hits me in the head, "Babe, I don't like it THAT rough...but maybe for you."
Suddenly, a wave of pink goo pins me to the wall and I see who did it, oh yeah...they wanted me!, "Blondie here likes them tied up...reow!"
Ok, maybe she didn't want me, but her face is hilarious isn't it?
"One of them looks like Domino!"
"Maybe we should focus on the fight?"
"One of them's got a nice ass!"
"Well, you do have me there."
"HOLD ON! PAUSE EVERYTHING! I forgot something!"
Time itself seems to freeze, Gogo is just within seconds of smacking Deadpool with one of her disks, Honey Lemon is messing with her device to conjure a chemical compound, Hiro and Baymax are soaring to their assistance while Fred and Wasabi are just joining them, but time is frozen so nothing is happening...basically what happened in the post-credit scene for Wolverine.
You mean the fact, that they all have weird names? Oh...or the fact the Asian girl has a nice body!
"The fact that you're about to get totally annihilated by college students and a teenager."
"No and no...we have readers!"
"You mean you forgot?"
"Who remembers that crap anyway?"
"I'm sure they would like to know what's going on?"
"*groans* Does that mean we have to go back?"
"Yup. That's exactly what it means!"
"Can we just do it in a montage?"
"That really wouldn't clear things up."
"Well...at least there's boobs."
"Indeed...boobs."
"Hey smart voice, you're supposed to be smart, but it's boobs, you're off the hook...Oh yeah!"
The Merc with a Mouth pulls out a remote, "Where's the damn rewind button?"
A white square symbol appears in the corner and an animated menu appears in the back ground, the title of the story hitting Deadpool in the head, "Fuck! That really hurt!"
"Maybe you should press the right button."
"He's used to Xbox, remotes are a thing of the past!"
REWIND
"Ah, here we are, now shut up voices, let me explain!"
THE BIG PIDDIE 6
"The fuck? Writer, what kind of fucking Title is that?"
"Lame!"
"Do you have anything better?"
WADE WILSON VS. THE WORLD
"You're not fighting the world though."
"Fuck, everybody's a critic...fine!"
THE BIG PIDDIE 6
Alright, so it begins in my apartment...
El Paso, Texas
What was common place in this shit-hole of a city? Police sirens, cats screeching, unintelligible Spanish and poor English being thrown about...why did I stay here? Sam's Tacos of course...that's all the reason to stay here...or where ever my fair Taco maker would go. But then I get this email from a guy named Alistair Krei, get this from San Fransokyo. Ha, if that didn't sound like some weird Hipster wet dream, then I don't know what does. I was given five targets to eliminate for the payment of 5 billion dollars...and a life time supply of Chimichangas and a endless Coupon for IHOP!
This man knew a way to my heart...no homo, freaks! But yes, I was to meet this individual within his place.
FAST FORWARD pass the plane ride of Screaming children and elderly...oh did I mention I highjacked the plane? Just kidding...but seriously...they were way too fucking slow! Yeah then there's the taxi ride from Steve Irwin resurrected, God if the stingray didn't kill him, it really fucked him up! But moving on to the residence of Alistair Krei, stereotypical billionaire entrepreneur, who was doing what you ask?
Well the classic would be playing golf by hitting a ball in a cup in his office smelling of fresh mahogany and surrounded by various scotches, but this wasn't that type of manly boss.
Oh no, he was the hipster effeminate type who lived in what looked like a terrible Star Wars set up (Got Clones?), and was surrounded by various types of wine. Seriously, who the fuck drank wine? Drink beer or hard liquor like everyone else you rich pussy! Hold on, $ 5 Billion and tacos...and IHOP...focus Wade...focus!
"So, Mr. Wilson, your reputation precedes you." He smiles at me...dude I will not fuck you!
"Yeah, I know. So what is it...five so-called super heroes and a giant robot? Sounds easy!"
"Try not to make it...too messy."
"Don't worry, I'll take a can of spray paint and spray your name on a Billboard sign near their dead bodies."
He chuckles, good, at least he had a sense of humor...unlike most guys now-a-days. Shit, some of them remind me of Logan...that's Wolverine for you non-comic types.
"Well, just be sure you're not hanging them anywhere as a trophy."
I look over at him, "Do I look like a sick, sadistic bastard?"
"And we were off. Actually, that's where I'll leave off...I need some Chimichangas. If you readers wouldn't demand for so much damn explanation you wouldn't have to wait until the next chapter! Now for a friendly message from the voices inside my head!"
The writer would like to thank you for reading.
RnR, guys!
He means, rate and review, guys.
It's so much better in text lingo! I don't have to type as much!
You don't type, you're a voice inside a head!
That's what she said!
I don't think that works like you think it does.
"Hey readers, rate and review...maybe you'll see Honey Lemon tying me up some more...oh yeah! Seriously though...show support, so this writer doesn't go offing himself for failing at life! Oh and fanfic girls...call me! Oh and as a friendly reminder for my friend, Wolverine, SUCK IT!"