Hi ho, the derrier-o. Everyone's favorite merc here, just...Wait. There
this sound guy outside the booth just telling me to stop...What's he
saying? Stop ass-kissing? Oh, wait he's telling me to stop ad libing.
Script? I'm supposed to read from a script? Let me see this stupid thing.
Let's see. First paragraph: Crap. Second paragraph: Crappy crap. Three
paragraph: Crappity crap crap. Wait a minute? I just get three paragraphs?!
Spidey got twice that much! What? So what if he has a movie, mine is in the
works! You know what, I'm putting a hit out on you!
*Deadpool puts one dollar on the table, then shoots the sound guy.*
Hit fulfilled! Cripes, I hate working in fanfics, no pictures, no yellow thought boxes, no nothing! Just writing! I might as well take my turn at this, so:
Deadpool and Spider-Man VS Asstray! I mean, Doomsday!
So, after I give crinkle face my "Kiss Ass" schpeel, one would naturally assume that this Butt-Ugly slice of stupid meat would surrender, bow down, and give unending praise to the mind-numbing glory that is I, Deadpool, correct? Wrong, I'm sorry, you don't win the trip to Vegas. Apparently he doesn't know the Ass-whup equation (Deadpool+Webbed up and smashed car=Lot's of ass-whupping to go around!) because, before I could begin to tell him how incredibly awesome and badass I can be, he starts charging at me like the Rhino. I swear, there's nothing original on the guy, he's like a buff and uglier (If that's somehow possible)Taskmaster: First he steals the Hulk's rampage bit, now he's taking the Rhino's stuff. Being the cunning merc I am, I tactically retreat (Some people might say I ran away screaming. If you see these people, tell them to come to my house, where a hot kiss from my gun nozzle awaits.) over to my car, climb up what's left of it, and jump off just as the...What do we call him? I like Ugly Man. Ugly Man he is! Anyway, I climb up and jump off just as Ugly Man plows through my car, sending my insurance premiums through the roof.
"I will shoot and sing a song! Do dah, do dah! Shoot big ugly in his dong! Oh, the do dah day!" I sing, shooting him a few times in the back, making sure to aim for his gentlemen parts. If he has any.
"RAHH-"
Blam! Blam!
"Say something else! Ever since you showed up, it's just been "RAHHR" "RAHHR", make a sentence, you lamer! Your like the special ed version of the Hulk!" Apparently, Ugly Man doesn't share in my refined sense of humor, because he responds by picking it up a rather large portion of the road and throwing it at me. That pretty seems to the full range of his attacks: Punch, charge, say "RAHHR" and throw stuff. At least the Hulk was creative, he'd clap his hands to hurt you. Anyway, back to the flying rock of death, or death followed by ninety-seventh revival in my case. Before I can die and have another spin-off series, Spider-Man drops down quicker than Gigli's ticket sales, and pulls me off by the collar(chocking me, I might add. Whether it was intentional or not is up for heated debate) to a nearby roof top.
"You nutcase! You psycho nutcase!" He says, dropping me tush first on the rooftop. Now, compare our costumes. He were's a red and blue ensemble that looks like it was developed by some old guy in the sixties. I wear a stylish black and red piece. He actually has the cahones to walk out in his little spandex suit, I'll give him that. "What do you think your doing! That thing is serious business!"
"I think I know what I'm doing!" I say, getting to his face...Or I would get to his face, if he wasn't so damn short. Looks much bigger on TV. And what did that hottie Black Cat see in this nerd anyway? He has to be good in bed, there's no other explanation. "I am licensed, grade-A, mercing and jerking, BADASS!"
"You're a mercenary?"
"Yep. If you've got the mon-mon, I've got the gun-gun. I shoot people, I blow stuff up, I return the tape without rewinding, I am a bad man. Now if you'll excuse me, I have ugly-men hiney to kick." Before I could begin my hiney hijinks, the building began to fall down, as the freak below (not the one in my pants, the one on the street! Perv!) decided he would help us get back down there.
"Hope you can fly, bad man." Spider-wuss says, swinging off the roof top.
"Hey, get back here!"
*** Interlude
Doom's Day
Names. I have been given so many names, by those of little vision. Despot. Lunatic. Madman. Think of me as you like. But in my presence you shall only refer to me by one name: Doom. Dr. Doom.
In the solitude of my castle, I watch as numerous events occur around the globe. Regimes fall. War's are fought. Leaders are crushed. I sit. I calculate. I wait, wait for my moment of triumph to arrive. For the time when all the world will swear allegiance under my name. Doom's Day, if you will.
But now, my eyes turn towards New York City. Reports say the Hulk has come there on his warpath, however I know the absurdity of this statement: I keep the Hulk under constant surveillance, as do I all my enemies. How do I accomplish this task? Simple: I am Victor Von Doom.
I descend deeper into my lair, and arrive at screens monitoring the battle in New York City. The monster's opponents are of little concern to me, however the monster himself demands great interest. I watch him move, his every action seemingly driven by pure rage and hatred, as if the entire world has done him some great wrong. Such power, such aggression.
"Beautiful."
I have seen similar power in the Hulk. However this being, the engine of destruction, he is different from the Hulk. While the Hulk sought to escape mankind, this being embraces it with relentless malice. He is power incarnate. A force that rages uncontrolled. I must have him.
I move to begin operations in capturing the beast, but I am halted by another screen: The Avengers are assembling. Considering the strength of this beast, capturing him would be a daunting task. The Avengers are not to be underestimated, I know that well; they can defeat this monster, though not easily. For a moment, I consider letting them neutralize the creature, and then take his power for my own with ease. A foolish plan, if they were to slay the beast, he would become nothing less than a carcass; the complexities of his DNA would prove impossible to clone. I take another look at the beast, looking into the hatred in his eyes, and then I realize and laugh at my worries: A hatred such as that can never truly be extinguished. No one knows this truth more than I.
So I return to my seat and watch the battle rage. Fight on, sweet creature. Soon, so very soon, you shall be with me, and then you will achieve power to dwarf all others. And then we will begin.
"Doom's Day has arrived."
***
Are we done with the Doom stuff yet? Who cares about Doom, I mean really? He's like, what, eighty? I bet they have to put a straw through in his mouth just to get the viagra in. Can't say I blame him for wearing a mask though, if I got my ass handed to me by Squirrel Girl, I'd wouldn't show my face in public either. Stupid Darth Vader impersonator, horning in on my action. And don't think I haven't noticed that I'm the only superhero (At least, the only one people give a damn about) you haven't fought! Dr. Doom's fears the mighty Deadpool! As soon as I get enough money to buy a plain ticket, I am going to go Latveria and kick his ass so hard that his illegitimate child with Mrs. Fantastic feels the pain! Back to the important stuff.
So, where was I? Oh yeah, falling off a building, with unthinkable pain and possible dismemberment waiting for me below, after the Craptacular Spider- Nerd swings off leaves me off to fall. Just watch, the next time somebody puts a price on his stupid webbed head, he's mine! (And I won't have to wait long, either, he only gets marked every month or so.)
"Hang on!" He says, swinging back to save me from certain extreme pain and general uncorfortableness. He didn't have to do that, and I'm grateful. To show my gratitude when I take him down, I'll just shoot off his kneecaps and drive over him twice with my car, instead of the fifty times I initially had planned. "I assume you've got powers besides being just plain being annoying."
"Powers?" I say, as I try and narrow down the massive list of my abilities. "I'm popular with the ladies. There's my "drag queen sense" which warns me of potential he-males in disguise. I can pat my head and rub my stomach at the same time." I give him a display of my awesome head-patting stomach- rubbing power. Somehow, the eyes on his mask actually got bigger, don't even ask me how he did that. I guess that means he's impressed. "Oh yeah, I can't die, but that's a minor thing."
"Reminds me of a guy named Osborn. I'll introduce you two sometime."
"Yeah, I think I'll have to meet your butt-buddy later." I say, looking back to see Ugly Man leaping towards the sky at us. "Deadpool's Bullet Buffet is officially open, and it's "Butt faces eat free" night! I emptied a few more clips in his nether regions, but he kept on coming, proving my theory that his man-parts are either too small to hit, or non-existent. "Crap on a crap stick!" I say as all 1,000 plus pounds of ugly slams right into us, he gives Spider-beyotch the pimp slap of doom and sends him crashing into a water tower, and he grabs me by the neck and starts beating me like a red headed step child. I stay calm, taking it like a man. "Pain! Lot's of pain! And surely, more to come!"
BAM!
"Broken ribs, massive bleeding, both internal and external!
WHAM!
"Fractured skull! Wishing for unconsciousness! Not the pelvis, not my gentleman parts, not my-"
CRUNCH!
"MY GENTLEMAN PARTS! Those never grow back right!"
We hit the ground, the fall breaking all the bones he didn't get the chance too. Fortunately, my body starts by healing the most important part of my entire body: My mouth. "I may not look it, but I'm extremely dangerous right now. Back off, and I promise I won't-" He very rudely breaks my jaw in mid-sentence, smashing my body into the pavement for good measure. As if that wasn't bad enough, he's started laughing, so every time my ears heal back, I get to hear a laugh that's more annoying than those stupid AT&T commercials, not the one's with the hot chick in the bikini, the one's with Carrot Top. Ugly Man's laugh is that damn annoying.
Before I can my nose can regenerate and experience the lovely odor that is Ugly Man's ass gas, a streak of red, white and blue flies through the air and conks the freak upside the head. I've been saved by a frisbee.
"I don't who you are, what you are, or where you came from." Captain America says, as his frisbee of might comes back to him. " Frankly, I don't care. But I do know one thing: You're in the wrong place."
*Deadpool puts one dollar on the table, then shoots the sound guy.*
Hit fulfilled! Cripes, I hate working in fanfics, no pictures, no yellow thought boxes, no nothing! Just writing! I might as well take my turn at this, so:
Deadpool and Spider-Man VS Asstray! I mean, Doomsday!
So, after I give crinkle face my "Kiss Ass" schpeel, one would naturally assume that this Butt-Ugly slice of stupid meat would surrender, bow down, and give unending praise to the mind-numbing glory that is I, Deadpool, correct? Wrong, I'm sorry, you don't win the trip to Vegas. Apparently he doesn't know the Ass-whup equation (Deadpool+Webbed up and smashed car=Lot's of ass-whupping to go around!) because, before I could begin to tell him how incredibly awesome and badass I can be, he starts charging at me like the Rhino. I swear, there's nothing original on the guy, he's like a buff and uglier (If that's somehow possible)Taskmaster: First he steals the Hulk's rampage bit, now he's taking the Rhino's stuff. Being the cunning merc I am, I tactically retreat (Some people might say I ran away screaming. If you see these people, tell them to come to my house, where a hot kiss from my gun nozzle awaits.) over to my car, climb up what's left of it, and jump off just as the...What do we call him? I like Ugly Man. Ugly Man he is! Anyway, I climb up and jump off just as Ugly Man plows through my car, sending my insurance premiums through the roof.
"I will shoot and sing a song! Do dah, do dah! Shoot big ugly in his dong! Oh, the do dah day!" I sing, shooting him a few times in the back, making sure to aim for his gentlemen parts. If he has any.
"RAHH-"
Blam! Blam!
"Say something else! Ever since you showed up, it's just been "RAHHR" "RAHHR", make a sentence, you lamer! Your like the special ed version of the Hulk!" Apparently, Ugly Man doesn't share in my refined sense of humor, because he responds by picking it up a rather large portion of the road and throwing it at me. That pretty seems to the full range of his attacks: Punch, charge, say "RAHHR" and throw stuff. At least the Hulk was creative, he'd clap his hands to hurt you. Anyway, back to the flying rock of death, or death followed by ninety-seventh revival in my case. Before I can die and have another spin-off series, Spider-Man drops down quicker than Gigli's ticket sales, and pulls me off by the collar(chocking me, I might add. Whether it was intentional or not is up for heated debate) to a nearby roof top.
"You nutcase! You psycho nutcase!" He says, dropping me tush first on the rooftop. Now, compare our costumes. He were's a red and blue ensemble that looks like it was developed by some old guy in the sixties. I wear a stylish black and red piece. He actually has the cahones to walk out in his little spandex suit, I'll give him that. "What do you think your doing! That thing is serious business!"
"I think I know what I'm doing!" I say, getting to his face...Or I would get to his face, if he wasn't so damn short. Looks much bigger on TV. And what did that hottie Black Cat see in this nerd anyway? He has to be good in bed, there's no other explanation. "I am licensed, grade-A, mercing and jerking, BADASS!"
"You're a mercenary?"
"Yep. If you've got the mon-mon, I've got the gun-gun. I shoot people, I blow stuff up, I return the tape without rewinding, I am a bad man. Now if you'll excuse me, I have ugly-men hiney to kick." Before I could begin my hiney hijinks, the building began to fall down, as the freak below (not the one in my pants, the one on the street! Perv!) decided he would help us get back down there.
"Hope you can fly, bad man." Spider-wuss says, swinging off the roof top.
"Hey, get back here!"
*** Interlude
Doom's Day
Names. I have been given so many names, by those of little vision. Despot. Lunatic. Madman. Think of me as you like. But in my presence you shall only refer to me by one name: Doom. Dr. Doom.
In the solitude of my castle, I watch as numerous events occur around the globe. Regimes fall. War's are fought. Leaders are crushed. I sit. I calculate. I wait, wait for my moment of triumph to arrive. For the time when all the world will swear allegiance under my name. Doom's Day, if you will.
But now, my eyes turn towards New York City. Reports say the Hulk has come there on his warpath, however I know the absurdity of this statement: I keep the Hulk under constant surveillance, as do I all my enemies. How do I accomplish this task? Simple: I am Victor Von Doom.
I descend deeper into my lair, and arrive at screens monitoring the battle in New York City. The monster's opponents are of little concern to me, however the monster himself demands great interest. I watch him move, his every action seemingly driven by pure rage and hatred, as if the entire world has done him some great wrong. Such power, such aggression.
"Beautiful."
I have seen similar power in the Hulk. However this being, the engine of destruction, he is different from the Hulk. While the Hulk sought to escape mankind, this being embraces it with relentless malice. He is power incarnate. A force that rages uncontrolled. I must have him.
I move to begin operations in capturing the beast, but I am halted by another screen: The Avengers are assembling. Considering the strength of this beast, capturing him would be a daunting task. The Avengers are not to be underestimated, I know that well; they can defeat this monster, though not easily. For a moment, I consider letting them neutralize the creature, and then take his power for my own with ease. A foolish plan, if they were to slay the beast, he would become nothing less than a carcass; the complexities of his DNA would prove impossible to clone. I take another look at the beast, looking into the hatred in his eyes, and then I realize and laugh at my worries: A hatred such as that can never truly be extinguished. No one knows this truth more than I.
So I return to my seat and watch the battle rage. Fight on, sweet creature. Soon, so very soon, you shall be with me, and then you will achieve power to dwarf all others. And then we will begin.
"Doom's Day has arrived."
***
Are we done with the Doom stuff yet? Who cares about Doom, I mean really? He's like, what, eighty? I bet they have to put a straw through in his mouth just to get the viagra in. Can't say I blame him for wearing a mask though, if I got my ass handed to me by Squirrel Girl, I'd wouldn't show my face in public either. Stupid Darth Vader impersonator, horning in on my action. And don't think I haven't noticed that I'm the only superhero (At least, the only one people give a damn about) you haven't fought! Dr. Doom's fears the mighty Deadpool! As soon as I get enough money to buy a plain ticket, I am going to go Latveria and kick his ass so hard that his illegitimate child with Mrs. Fantastic feels the pain! Back to the important stuff.
So, where was I? Oh yeah, falling off a building, with unthinkable pain and possible dismemberment waiting for me below, after the Craptacular Spider- Nerd swings off leaves me off to fall. Just watch, the next time somebody puts a price on his stupid webbed head, he's mine! (And I won't have to wait long, either, he only gets marked every month or so.)
"Hang on!" He says, swinging back to save me from certain extreme pain and general uncorfortableness. He didn't have to do that, and I'm grateful. To show my gratitude when I take him down, I'll just shoot off his kneecaps and drive over him twice with my car, instead of the fifty times I initially had planned. "I assume you've got powers besides being just plain being annoying."
"Powers?" I say, as I try and narrow down the massive list of my abilities. "I'm popular with the ladies. There's my "drag queen sense" which warns me of potential he-males in disguise. I can pat my head and rub my stomach at the same time." I give him a display of my awesome head-patting stomach- rubbing power. Somehow, the eyes on his mask actually got bigger, don't even ask me how he did that. I guess that means he's impressed. "Oh yeah, I can't die, but that's a minor thing."
"Reminds me of a guy named Osborn. I'll introduce you two sometime."
"Yeah, I think I'll have to meet your butt-buddy later." I say, looking back to see Ugly Man leaping towards the sky at us. "Deadpool's Bullet Buffet is officially open, and it's "Butt faces eat free" night! I emptied a few more clips in his nether regions, but he kept on coming, proving my theory that his man-parts are either too small to hit, or non-existent. "Crap on a crap stick!" I say as all 1,000 plus pounds of ugly slams right into us, he gives Spider-beyotch the pimp slap of doom and sends him crashing into a water tower, and he grabs me by the neck and starts beating me like a red headed step child. I stay calm, taking it like a man. "Pain! Lot's of pain! And surely, more to come!"
BAM!
"Broken ribs, massive bleeding, both internal and external!
WHAM!
"Fractured skull! Wishing for unconsciousness! Not the pelvis, not my gentleman parts, not my-"
CRUNCH!
"MY GENTLEMAN PARTS! Those never grow back right!"
We hit the ground, the fall breaking all the bones he didn't get the chance too. Fortunately, my body starts by healing the most important part of my entire body: My mouth. "I may not look it, but I'm extremely dangerous right now. Back off, and I promise I won't-" He very rudely breaks my jaw in mid-sentence, smashing my body into the pavement for good measure. As if that wasn't bad enough, he's started laughing, so every time my ears heal back, I get to hear a laugh that's more annoying than those stupid AT&T commercials, not the one's with the hot chick in the bikini, the one's with Carrot Top. Ugly Man's laugh is that damn annoying.
Before I can my nose can regenerate and experience the lovely odor that is Ugly Man's ass gas, a streak of red, white and blue flies through the air and conks the freak upside the head. I've been saved by a frisbee.
"I don't who you are, what you are, or where you came from." Captain America says, as his frisbee of might comes back to him. " Frankly, I don't care. But I do know one thing: You're in the wrong place."