Might Can't Troll Everything - Chapter 1
It was a peaceful, warm, sunny afternoon at Vergil's house in the otherwise grim and bleak locale of Hoboken, New Jersey, and as the saying goes, "It's always sunny in Philadelphia...but man, fuck Hoboken." Vergil woke up with quite the phallic household object lodged firmly between his asscheeks, but even the throbbing meat beneath his sheet could not quell his raging instinct to mope around like a bitch. For it was his birthday, and it was a cruel reminder that yet another year had come to pass without so much as a call from his dear brother Dante.
"I'm...not motivated..." muttered a rather grumpy Vergil as he rolled his pasty yet well-toned, shapely buttocks out of bed. As he shuffled his feet slowly towards the bathroom, there was a knock at the front door. Vergil didn't give no fucks. A louder knock, but still no fucks to be given. As he was almost to the bathroom, suddenly, a cacophonous clusterfuck of airhorns was blaring from outside.
Vergil grabbed his undergarments with which he hastily covered his towering morning wood and made his way to the front door, and who should he find but his old friend...acquaintance...guy he's met...Deadpool!
"Hiya Vergy!" shouted Deadpool with a smile. "Hows it hangi-WHOA, you uh...find a new place to carry your sword, or are you just happy to see me?"
Vergil sighed loudly and pretentiously, like an art critic making a living of convincing people that smearing one's own shit across the floor like a dog is a high artform if it is on a canvas. Still, he was surprised at the thought of anyone remembering his birthday for once. "What do you want, Wade?"
"Oh, nothing really, I just came by to use the bathroom."
"Is that so?" Vergil replied. "Nothing else?"
"Yup. I mean don't get me wrong, the garden out back was fine for a place to drop a drop a duece, but things may have gotten a little bit messier than I expected. So...yeah...be a pal and spare some paper? Cause man...those lettuce patches of yours sure ain't cuttin' it," explained the mortal enemy of the 4th wall.
"Hmm...Hold that thought." Vergil went back inside only to emerge but a moment later. "Die!" he shouted, impaling his trusty katana, the Yamato through Deadpool's manly chest.
"Et tu, Vergil...?" gasped Deadpool. "Nah, I'm just fucking with you."
Vergil stared for a moment, taken aback by Deadpool's resilient manliness in the face of his brutal impalement.
Deadpool pulled the blade from his torso and laughed like a little schoolgirl, "What? Never saw someone take a sword through the chest like that much of a champ before?"
"...You'd be surprised." Vergil snatched his sword back and returned it to its sheath. "I don't suppose you'd...care to come in for a cup of tea or a few rounds of Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3?
"Hah! Gay!" Deadpool remarked. Vergil's head sank low. "Buuut, I do have a tournament coming up and I could use a punching bag, so fuck it, why not?"
"Right this way then. Would you like anything for lunch, by the way? I was thinking Mexican, or maybe..."
"Shhhhh...don't ruin it."
And such was the start of a couple of flaming bromosexual lifemates in the making.
"Hey, hey, HEY! BESTIES...with benefits. Got it narrator man?"
Go fuck your mother, Deadpool.