Ooh! Hey, G, is it time for some In Medias Res shit?

What do you mean? I mean, technically we already started at the beginning-

The bet! You know? With Skull-Lord, and his magical Celestial bullshit that got me trapped on Planet The Wolf Among Us?

First of all, it's Star-Lord. Second, the planet is called Remnant. But fine, if that'd help the story, I see no reason not to.

I do.

Blue Box, you have no sense of adventure! Live a little!

Technically, at this point, I'm Bold Italics Text, not Blue Comics Box. The terminology is important.

Right, just gonna do the scene transition-

Wait! I've got a better idea!

Oh?

What gave Petey Pratt his powers? 616 Chris Quill doesn't have that shit!

I'm actually going to do both. The bet will be the scene, but how he gained his powers will be shown. Fair enough? Too bad.


"...What," was the flabbergasted response of one Peter Quill, appearing confused as he ran back the request in his head. He had been a bit flighty recently; unlike the version of him found in Earth 616, this Peter had recently been granted phenomenal cosmic powers. From what, you may ask? One merely has to look to Peter Quill's left arm; he is a wearing a grand golden gauntlet, with six gems of multiple colors-

Um, what? How the hell did he get the Infinity Gauntlet?!

Show, don't tell, Wade. Show, don't tell.

"Uh-huh, yeah," Deadpool said out loud in his own reality. Due to the fact that he seemed to be dodging the question, Peter only grew more confused. "Then explain to me how, whenever I bring a chick over, they tell me that exact same thing. And yet, when I throw off my pants, they suddenly begin insisting I stop showing?"

Clearing his throat, Peter Quill once again asks "Yeah, uh...what?"

Turning his attention back to Star-Lord, Deadpool simply said "...I said that out loud, didn't I?" Aside from the nodding from his conversational partner, his two voices also spoke up.

Yes, Wade, you did say that out loud.

Not that that's a bad thing. I love it when we freak people out. Helps drive off the boring people!

Yeah, but all that does is bring She-Hulk and Squirrel Girl into our inner circle. And time spent away from a lawyer and the Beater of Doctor Doom's metal plated ass is time well spent.

Ignoring the bickering of his inner voices, Deadpool repeated himself. "I said, I wanna make a little wager: if that Wonder Woman movie makes more money in the box office than my Ryan Reynolds made-and-molded masterpiece, you win. Short, sweet, to the point. And easy to write, too!"

Don't patronize me, I can write you into a coma. Literally. Back to Star-Lord. He cocked his head sideways and held a finger up to the sky in contemplation. "Right, I barely know what that means," he said, "But only because I'm feeling this aura, like this energy. As if fanatics are reading an account similar to this moment, and wondering-"

"I could be partaking in all the porn on this site, and instead I'm reading about two jackasses bantering back and forth to each other?" Deadpool finished.

With a snap of his fingers, Star-Lord said "Bingo! Yes, that's exactly it." Stepping forward, Peter held out his non-gauntlet baring hand, which Deadpool began energetically shaking. "Well, I don't see what it has to do with me, but if it's that what you're thinking of, I guess we have a deal?"

"Fuck yeah!" Deadpool exclaimed, before pausing. "Wait a minute...what do we get if we win?"

After a few seconds of thought, Peter snapped his fingers. "Okay, I've got something. If you win, I'll let you do something really stupid: I'll let you do something with the Infinity Gauntlet. Because this is starting to get a bit overwhelming." At that, Wade raised two hands up to his face and let loose a slight squeal.

Suddenly dropping the mannerism, Deadpool cleared his throat and smiled under his mask. "Does that mean, what I think it means?" he asked excitedly.

Shrugging, Peter Quill said "I don't know, what does it mean?" After a second, he pointed at Wade with an accusatory finger and asked "You're not going to turn everyone in the galaxy into a bikini babe, are you?"

"Tempting," Deadpool responded, "and it's not like you wouldn't appreciate it." After a second, Peter conceded the point and nodded, and Wade kept talking. Oh, dear God, he kept talking.

Shut the fuck up, G, and just write my brilliant plan.

That's another quarter in the swear jar!

Italics Text, the swear jar exploded from us having too much cash in it.

...Woohoo!

"But no!" Wade corrected, "I have a better idea!" Curiosity getting the better of him, Peter leaned in to to hear what he had to say. Spinning on his heel, Deadpool turned to the starry sky in a dramatic pose. "I shall use it...to resurrect...BEA ARTHUR!"

There was a pregnant pause in the room, as though Star-Lord couldn't formulate a response, and so Wade turned around, face-to-face with Peter Quill. True to form, he couldn't formulate a response. "I-I don't…" was Peter Quill's confused response, completely flabbergasted by hearing such a request. "A-Are you sure you don't want to, say, make you sane again or become king? Build up a fortune and spend it all on cocaine, hookers, and chimichangas?"

"Nope," was Wade's simple response. "I mean, I do appreciate coke, bitches, and food as much as the next guy," he continued, while pointing at the...at the screen. Not sure how that works in a fan fic, but he did it. "But nah. Bea Arthur. She's my Golden Girl."

"Um," Peter mumbled in a confused daze. After a while, a realization hit him. "Hold on, what happens if I win?"

With a dismissing wave of the hand, Deadpool said "Oh, you can just wave your hand and send me to some random planet somewhere. But I mean, what are the odds of that happening?"


"It made $200 million on opening weekend alone," Deadpool said, relaying the story to Nora and Ren. He was laying in the latter's bed, resting his head against the pillow and tracking his shows across the sheets. "I mean, I'm proud of Gal Gadot and the folks for making a good DC Comics film, but now I'm on this rock, surrounded by anime schoolchildren."

After a second, Nora simply replied "Right, I have no idea what some of the things you're talking about are, but you've been like that since we met."

"So," Ren began to sum up, "Because a movie starring you was surpassed by another film, you were sent here via a space captain with a magical gauntlet?"

Well, he seems...observant! ...When are he and Nora gonna boop?

Patience. "Yeah, basically. Well, the Infinity Gauntlet isn't magical, really. It's more of a plot device," Deadpool explained, which confused them less, though that wasn't an improvement over them knowing what he was on about.

"A plot device?" Nora asked. Then, without warning, she suddenly said "So, it makes people's boobs bigger?"

Turning to her, Ren simply said "I think he means plot literally. The Infinity Gauntlet as defined by him therefore advances the story."

"So," came a sudden voice at the door. Turning to it, the three found Weiss, her arms crossed as she looked inside, "We can conclude he's an insane idiot, then?"

"You forgot "perverted", "sexy", "badass", and "great dancer" there, lady," Deadpool responded, walking over to the door. "Anyways, have you come to join the Peter Quill punching committee? We're looking for an even number quota, and you seem to keep butting in. Almost as if you're G's favorite character." Ignoring her sudden shift to a perplexed glare, he then asked to seemingly nobody "Is she?"

To which I respond: No, it's Blake. "Then why did you have the hots for the buxom blonde?" I don't have the...shut up, Wade.

After a second, Weiss stammered out "W-What? I-...Okay, um...Yes, I am coming along. But only because I don't think Ren can, on his own, keep you and Nora from hurting yourselves." She entered the room with as much punctuality as she normally exuded.

With a chortle under her breath, Nora simply said "Please, Ren can handle me."

Bumping her on the shoulder, Ren replied "Yes, but I can't watch you and Deadpool. Who knows what he could...get...up to." He began trailing off as he looked at Wade, and the rest slowly turned to see what he was doing. In this case, he appeared to be standing next to a toaster, and was shoving some ice cream cones into it.

After sliding the ice cream into the toaster, he pushed the switch down, turning it on. He then turned to the very perplexed group. "Uh," he said, "We were still doing the thing? I got bored."

Walking over, Ren reached to unplug the toaster before it short circuited. However, before he could, he took a better look at it. It was red, and appeared brand new. "This isn't our toaster. Where'd you get this from?" he asked.

Waving his hand disinterestedly, Deadpool responded "Oh, some other dorm. It had a big motherfucker, some blind dude, a chick more stone cold than Steve Austin, and a girl with adorable bunny ears. Why?"

As if by narrative magic, they all suddenly heard a loud shout of "WHAT?!" coming from the room directly above them. The three teens immediately recognized it; it was Coco Adel, and she was both confused and pissed.

"Should we run?" Nora innocuously asked, already taking strides towards the door. Wordlessly, her more sane companions nodded, and they burst out of the door.

After a second, Deadpool smiled under his mask. "Okay...I think I'll like it here," he said to himself, before turning back up to face me...I'm still not sure how he does that. "Bitch, you don't need to know," he responded to the narration, "Now, are we gonna do a scene transition? Because I wanna see what happens with this."

Sure, Wade. If you want a very angry Coco to rip your dick off and peel it like a banana.

And immediately, if I had legs, they'd be more crossed than a pretzel.

That's one clumsy-ass simile, Bold Italics Text. But I feel ya.

Actually, I think that's a metaphor.

Who cares? Next scene, please.


Surrounded by the safety of the crowd at the Vytal Festival, the four party members breathed a sigh of relief as they sat around a table. Well, to be exact, Ren and Weiss breathed a sigh of relief. Nora was elated at the adrenaline flowing through her body. And Wade? Still talking, as per usual.

"So, what was her problem?" Deadpool asked, sitting casually with his feet on the table. "All I did was steal, and then soon break, her team's toaster. I've shot people who ended up less vengeful than that."

Wade sat in the casual comfort for a second before sensing stunned silence from the rest of the group. He looked to the other three, all in various states of shock as they stared at them. "S-Shot?!" Weiss asked, incredulously.

"Well, duh," Deadpool mocked, his voice absolutely dripping with the same tone of voice as someone talking down to a person they found less intelligent than them. "I am a mercenary, after all."

Ren, for what it was worth, was still rather calm, though whether that was just his normal calmness or a sense of security meant to prevent provoking Wade was unclear. "Sounds more like an assassin to me."

Deadpool raised his gaze to Ren with a rather deadpan look, at least for him. His eyes were narrowed, and his feet remained propped up on the table. "No, no. Assassin's only shoot people, and they don't have standards so long as they get paid. I love money as much as the next asshole, but I have morals."

"Didn't you just say you shot people?" Weiss asked, her voice growing in intensity. "That's not moral at all!"

"Hey, hey," Deadpool interrupted, planting his feet back on the ground. Pulling a knife and a napkin out of a thigh holster and pocket, respectively, he began polishing the blade. "I have morals about who I ice. Or whack. Or cupcake, should you live in certain circles. Point is, nine times out of ten, they usually deserve it."

Audibly coming off of her high, Nora sighed before pausing. "Wait," she questioned, holding a finger up to the air, "Who deserves you shooting them?"

"No one!" Weiss snappily answered, half-tempted to leave the madman behind now. But Wade began speaking before she could even stand up.

"Actually, quite a few people," he said, placing the knife back into his holster as he whipped out a black Glock pistol and began field-stripping and cleaning it at the table. "Street thugs, mob bosses, big company conglomerates, Mall Santas-"

"Mall Santas?" Ren questioned.

"Mall Santas," Deadpool repeated, still wiping off the magazine. "And I do not, nor will I ever, assassinate babies, animals, or anyone in the Parker, Richards, Banner, and Ross families. I also do not only perform assassinations."

Weiss had her head in her hands, her elbows propped up onto the table, as she asked "Oh, God, what else do you do?"

Suddenly, rising to his feet, Deadpool yelled out "GLAD YOU ASKED!" before pulling a clipboard out of his ass-

It's "Hammerspace", G.

Sure it is, Wade. Sure it is. Pulling out a pen, he used it to indicate to various items on the clipboard. "I also do espionage, black ops, reconnaissance, target tracking, computer fraud, normal fraud, fraud fraud, mammograms, the Virginia Waltz, gun safety seminars, weed smoking tutorials, vaping tutorials, snatch and grabs, bag and tags, snatches and clams, Capture the Flag, professional wrestling, amatuer wrestling, mixed martial arts, normal martial arts, another Virgina Waltz, gun smuggling, knife smuggling, getaway driving, and birthday parties."

There was another silence at the table, though this time was less moral outrage and more confusion. Baffled, uninterrupted confusion.

Finally, Ren questioned "Professional wrestling?"

Then, Weiss, still perturbed, asked "Birthday parties?"

And Nora, who was sitting there and paying attention, finally brought up "Mammograms?"

"Yep, yep, and yes indeed," Deadpool responded, sitting back down on the table. He began re-assembling his pistol, racking the slide back in place and placing the magazine back into the grip. "See? I'm a good guy...mostly...if the pay's right. I mean, there is the occasional dude who gets shot who probably didn't deserve it. Superheroes, civilians, local DAs, the actual Santa-"

Leaning back in his seat, Ren asked "Why is the moral option rarer? Wouldn't it make more sense for criminals to constantly order hits on the law-abiding and law-keeping?"

Clearing his throat, Deadpool put on a voice of explanatory lecture and responded quickly. "One very good reason, my dear man: power vacuums. See, if a whole bunch of cops or some costumed heroes go down, the big organized dudes will try to take as much territory as they can. Get as much prestige as they can. And when Wade Winston Wilson hiring psychopaths fight other criminal psychopaths, things get bloody. The smart guys know that, so they do things themselves instead of hiring professionals. And the dumb ones? They get caught, all the wealth they stole gets got by the police, and they can't even afford me."

Nora sits there, her attention grabbed by his explanation as she rests her head on her palms, says "Wow," in awe. Perking up, she says "That's actually really interesting, and...detailed. No offense."

With a satisfied smirk, Deadpool simply leans back and says "None taken. So, do you guys think you can trust me again? I can't punch an Infinity Gauntlet-wielding demigod bitch by myself. Arms are too short."

"I didn't trust you to begin with," Weiss dryly responds, lifting her head from her arms. "But, like I said, Ren can't handle both you and Nora alone. And besides, you need a moral compass. Fine, I'm going." Wordlessly, Ren nods and Nora pumps her fist.

Aw, happy ending!

Wait, Greatness, is the chapter over yet?

Hmm...no, no. There's still one question you need answered, Wade.

Yeah? And what's-

How are you going to get off Remnant?

Upon that question's asking, Deadpool began to stare off into space, confusing the other three. "Uh, Wade?" Nora asked, snapping her fingers, "Anybody home?"

Deadpool tilted his head to the left, and began drumming his fingers on the table, his eyes growing irritated. Suddenly, he slammed his hands on the table with a loud "SON OF A BITCH!" before standing up from the table. He began angrily pacing in circles, muttering to himself some...colorful threats towards one Peter Quill for getting him stuck in this situation.

G, you better not leave this on a cliffhanger!

Too bad. Undeterred, Wade pulled out his smartphone from his pocket and dialed a number on it, murmuring "This better have intergalactic dialing." Luckily, the number picked up.

"H-Hello?" said the woman on the other end, clearly confused as to who got her number.

"Hey, is this Maria Hill?" Deadpool responded, pressing the phone up to his ear.

The woman was silent for a bit before slipping into a more professional mindset. "Who is this?" she barked out, "And how did you get my number?"

Smirking, Deadpool answered "Unimportant. I'm Deadpool. I have an urgent conversation to have with your boss. Patch me in to Nick fuckin' Fury."

There was a pause. Maria Hill then simply asked "...Who are you?"

With wide eyes, Deadpool stammered out "D-Deadpool? Wade Wilson?"

"Not ringing any bells," was Maria Hill's simple response.

"I'm the dude that invented the 'Sheep Gun'?" Deadpool said, in an attempt to remind Maria of his identity. "I look like an edgy Spider-Man cosplayer on Deviant Art? I have cancer literally everywhere? Nothing?"

Typing could be heard on the other end, with the sound of clicking various options breaking up the monotony somewhat. After around five minutes, during which time Deadpool stalked the grounds, throwing whoopie cushions and rubber chickens under various chairs out of sheer boredom, Maria Hill finally responded "I see..alright, I'll patch you through to Director Fury. But I don't think he'll be very happy to hear from you…"

"Make it so, Hill," Deadpool responded, "Make it so."

And so, it seemed things would end dramatically...until a squeaking sound could be heard. "What the-?!" was clearly vocalized, and Deadpool turned to see the results of his bored handiwork. A woman with black hair and piercing orange eyes gripped a rubber chicken in her fingerless gloved hands with irritation, the poor rubber animal shaking under the weight of her grip. "Who put this here?" she demanded, only seeing Wade as he snapped his fingers and walked backwards to the group's table.

Sitting down, Cinder turned to her companion Emerald next to her, who was looking at Deadpool with an eyebrow raised in confusion, and said "Do you recognize him, Emerald?"

"...Nope," was the simple response, before Emerald went back to eating a bar of chocolate she had bought. Cinder turned back to glare at Wade, her palms burning with increased temperature as she studied him.

Kinky!

I think she wants to kill you, Wade.

What hot chick doesn't want to kill me, these days? Answer: Outlaw. Well, even then...