'Ya know, I can't help but feel everything's taken on a surreal quality…'
The pony Deadpool was riding snorted as if to say, 'Ya think?'
They were ambling down a shady mountain path. It was night but the moon was bright enough to bestow a silver filter to everything. Mist had begun to gather in the grey trees that flanked the path.
'I mean, Domino and me assassinating a mutant vampire noblewoman in the Spanish mountains? Yeah, pretty mainstream. Finding out that our contact was also a shape-shifting vampire and who back-bites me after mission accomplished—'
The pony stopped with a loud and serious clop.
'Okaaay, so I ignored your payment. I guess that's also mainstream. But you got what you wanted eventually, right?'
The pony toss its head, pleased, and broke into a happy trot.
'Woah, watch it!' he called, gripping her mane. 'Honestly, why can't you shape-shift back into that half-bat thing so we can fly down the mountain?'
The pony slowed to an exaggerated, feeble crawl.
'Oh, too tired. Right. Still, can't you walk any smoother? This suit doesn't provide a lot of padding on bareback, ya know.'
The pony rumbled and tried its best to 'glide' down the rocky, overgrown path.
'Come to think of it, what's this like for you? Most women don't respond as well as you when I ask them for a ride.'
The pony's ears flicked back; not liking where this was going.
'Do sensations in your shape-shifted body parts correspond to your original human ones? Or do you feel pony feels? For instance…'
The pony froze as she felt a hand slap her croupe.
'Does that feel like "giddy-up" or "girl, you fin—" HEY!'
The pony bucked the pervert off with an enraged neigh.
By the time Deadpool had twisted and landed like a startled cat onto the path, she was gone. The mist in the trees had cleared. And, when he rose to his feet, he saw that the hoof-prints just…stopped.
'Forget surreal,' he muttered, 'this is just silly.'