This is my own interpretation of the daily life of the famed merc-with a
mouth Deadpool. Enjoy!!
Chapter 1
Deadpool's Warehouse Pad. Brooklyn Shipyards.
Wade Wilson AKA Deadpool woke from his sweat damp bed in a panic of confusion and hysteria as the knocking at the door increased constantly in volume every knock. "Yeah, yeah, keep your pantyhose on, I'm comin" Deadpool lurched through the pitch-black warehouse and slid open the aged door while simultaneously flicking the light on and grabbing his frosty firearm. The visitor was greeted with a gun barrel up his nose. "What the hell is it! This better be so damn important you had to get me up in the middle of the freakin' night!" "It is. Please believe me its very important that you help me and I mean right now!" the stranger demanded with a strong British accent. He had large nose in comparison to the gun and an incredibly small head for a man that looked twice Wade's age. Patches of grey hair accompanied a mostly thick clump of brown, wavy hair and a slight bald patch. "Jeez looweez! I don't even know you, I can hardly stand up, it's been a long night, just leave me alone and if you feel the need, drop by say 12 midday tomorrow. Yeah that'll do it," he deliberated, ravaging his hairy chin. Lowering his weapon and wiping off the residual mucus, he slammed the door leaving the visitor high and dry and made his way back through the warehouse switching off the light in the process. Before he had made it halfway through the warehouse, there were another few hasty thumps on the door. "Alright that's it I swear this guy is frickin dead.he is DEAD!!!" As you've figured Deadpool is not someone you bother at ungodly hours. He swung the door open and jammed the gun in the stranger's mouth at the speed of light. "You better have a damn good excuse why you are keeping me up and I mean a DAMN good excuse not just an excuse" Deadpool blared. The stranger didn't need to utter a word, he lifted the metallic suitcase and opened it revealing the most money Deadpool had seen for quite a while. He wrenched the weapon from the stranger's trap and released it onto the floor in amazement. "That is a lot of presidents ugly mugs" "To be precise.half a million dollars, no more, no less," the stranger uttered. "As I was saying, I require your service and may I stress the jobs importance" Deadpool puffed out the mass of wintry night air he had sucked in just before, while trying not to look ecstatic " Must be takin' out a president! Come in. Martini, shaken not stirred? Or maybe.a spot of tea and some biscuits??" he hospitability suggested with a snigger. "Not right now. We need to get down to business immediately," the stranger sneered entering the apartment swiftly.
Chapter 1
Deadpool's Warehouse Pad. Brooklyn Shipyards.
Wade Wilson AKA Deadpool woke from his sweat damp bed in a panic of confusion and hysteria as the knocking at the door increased constantly in volume every knock. "Yeah, yeah, keep your pantyhose on, I'm comin" Deadpool lurched through the pitch-black warehouse and slid open the aged door while simultaneously flicking the light on and grabbing his frosty firearm. The visitor was greeted with a gun barrel up his nose. "What the hell is it! This better be so damn important you had to get me up in the middle of the freakin' night!" "It is. Please believe me its very important that you help me and I mean right now!" the stranger demanded with a strong British accent. He had large nose in comparison to the gun and an incredibly small head for a man that looked twice Wade's age. Patches of grey hair accompanied a mostly thick clump of brown, wavy hair and a slight bald patch. "Jeez looweez! I don't even know you, I can hardly stand up, it's been a long night, just leave me alone and if you feel the need, drop by say 12 midday tomorrow. Yeah that'll do it," he deliberated, ravaging his hairy chin. Lowering his weapon and wiping off the residual mucus, he slammed the door leaving the visitor high and dry and made his way back through the warehouse switching off the light in the process. Before he had made it halfway through the warehouse, there were another few hasty thumps on the door. "Alright that's it I swear this guy is frickin dead.he is DEAD!!!" As you've figured Deadpool is not someone you bother at ungodly hours. He swung the door open and jammed the gun in the stranger's mouth at the speed of light. "You better have a damn good excuse why you are keeping me up and I mean a DAMN good excuse not just an excuse" Deadpool blared. The stranger didn't need to utter a word, he lifted the metallic suitcase and opened it revealing the most money Deadpool had seen for quite a while. He wrenched the weapon from the stranger's trap and released it onto the floor in amazement. "That is a lot of presidents ugly mugs" "To be precise.half a million dollars, no more, no less," the stranger uttered. "As I was saying, I require your service and may I stress the jobs importance" Deadpool puffed out the mass of wintry night air he had sucked in just before, while trying not to look ecstatic " Must be takin' out a president! Come in. Martini, shaken not stirred? Or maybe.a spot of tea and some biscuits??" he hospitability suggested with a snigger. "Not right now. We need to get down to business immediately," the stranger sneered entering the apartment swiftly.