Chapter Twenty: Fanfiction Etiquette With Gordon Ramsay

That last chapter was a little too serious, wasn't it? Well don't you worry, true believers; as Harry is subjected to a traumatic mental breakdown, come on a ride and transport yourself to a crappy apartment in the revealed upper asscrack of New York.

This apartment was a hole. An absolute hole. It also smelt like rotten egg, salted peanuts, and minced beef.

"Hey, watch your mouth. Well...I guess you don't have a mouth because you're the omniscient narrator."

Yes...there's a red and black suited guy here on the couch, gloved fingers covered with Doritos dust. What a lovely man he is. Oh wait, he would be in a red and black suit but he's currently in nothing but his underpants and mask, revealing that his entire body looks like it's made out of moist pepperoni.

"Oh hahaha, you fucker. I know you were being sarcastic when you called me lovely; I can sense it from your cold, static text. Oh right. Hey, audience? Yeah that's right, I'm talking to you. Gordon Ramsay isn't actually coming. The narrator just made it up because they thought it would be funny. What a cocksucker, right?" Said Deadpool as he licked his fingers.

What? No, Gordon Ramsay is coming.

"You just narrate stuff okay, buddy? Not everything you say comes true." The asshole replied. "Well, that was just rude. I'm right here."

Look pal, I'm the narrator. I call the shots.

Deadpool dusted off his fingers and leapt to his feet before pulling his mask down over his ugly-ass face. "Goddamn it. Of all the different Deadpools...the Ryan Reynolds one, the video game one, the cartoon ones, hell even the X-Men Origins: Wolverine one...which is technically still Ryan Reynolds...why did I have to be the one that exists in a shitty fan fiction universe?"

Whoa. Whoa. Bro. That's uncalled for. I'll have you know that I'm trying my best here.

"Your face is uncalled for."

Hey. You wanna focus? I brought you here to further the plot. Kind of. Well, because Protonslaught and Spider-Man need to properly team up against someone to further their character development.

Deadpool sighed "Oh yeah, because I accepted that contract from that guy whose car was launched into the sky by a tree. He wants me to kill Protonslaught for five dollars."

Yes, this sinister mercenary was hired by one of the innocents harmed by Protonslaught from that chapter with Jack O Lantern, what a twist. Wait...five dollars? Wouldn't you rather a couple thousand or something? Isn't that what assassinations are worth?

"I dunno, fuck off." Deadpool snapped like a little bitch. "Oh can you stop being a little turd? Let's get these pants on and shoot that weird chick."

Now, we go to Times Square in broad daylight. Deadpool has tracked down Protonslaught with his incredible skills. "Dude, seriously? That's got to be the laziest transition I've ever seen. Just like that? No journey or anything? I just appear here? And what skills?!" The assassin shrieked, shaking his fist at the sky.

Protonslaught scratched her head. "Uh...who are you talking to?"

"Ah yes, if it isn't the extremely incompetent OC. As a matter of fact, I'm talking to the person responsible for that winning personality of yours."

"Uh...my mom?... Satan?"

"No, you idiot. The narrator. Also, I'm going to call you Prote because your name is obnoxiously long. Narrator, you should do that too."

You know, that's not a bad idea. Prote wrinkled her forehead. "Are you...okay?"

Deadpool drew a 44 magnum. It's a gun by the way. "I'm stuck in a fan fiction and am the only one who knows it. How do you think I am?"

"You're insane. You're batshit insane."

The mercenary aimed the gun at Protonslaught's leather-bound face. He shot and the bullet sped through the air with a loud bang. Then, suddenly, the bullet stopped in mid-air and morphed into a ball of chocolate. Protonslaught plucked it out of the air and tucked it into her pocket for later.

"That's cheating!" Deadpool whined like a tired toddler. "She doesn't know how to use her powers yet!"

The blonde hero rummaged through her pocket and pulled out a gigantic text on physics. "I've been studying."

"Are you kidding me?!" Deadpool screamed to the heavens. "That's such an abuse of power! You're seriously just gonna make her an expert with her powers out of nowhere, despite the fact that she's useless with science?! I wasn't aware I was fighting a damn Mary Sue!"

...You make a fair point.

The book vanished from Protonslaught's hand, and with it so did any knowledge she received from it. The mind wipe left her feeling temporarily dizzy, and with a flurry, she fell into a puddle of mud.

"That's more like it." Deadpool crossed his arms and nodded...then felt a spray of mud seep through his suit. "What the hell, dude?! That was just immature."

Can you just shut up and do your job? You're here to kill Protonslaught. Go ahead. We're all waiting.

"You know what? No! I won't be a pawn in your game!"

Deadpool took out a Bazooka from his shoe. Don't ask how it fit in there, it just did. Then he, once again, shot it at Protonslaught. The rocket was mere seconds away from hitting the dazed girl before a string of webs grabbed hold of it and spun it back towards Deadpool. The explosion was minimal, because I said it was, and the streets started to rain with Deadpool's blood, guts, and limbs. His head landed, perfectly perched, on top of his own ass.

"You think your clever, huh?" Deadpool said rather clearly for a decapitated head. "Well I'll be the one laughing when Civil War turns this book into an emo poetry reading."

No, you won't, because you won't be there.

"Why not?"

I don't like you.

"Huh. Fair enough." Deadpool huffed. "I'm starting to miss the point of me being here at all then."

There was a wild neighing as Spider-Man rode in on a mighty steed. He jumped off its chestnut-coloured back, and gave a relieved sigh as he helped Protonslaught to her feet. "Can you at least try and be a little more careful? That rocket could have killed you."

"Great. Just great. The incompetent hero, and the incompetent original character. I'm just gonna leave before this gets any lamer."

Deadpool tried to force his body back together, but his healing factor was working a little slower than he would have liked.

"Oh, fuck you."

Fuck you too, buddy. I needed a filler chapter, and you're it. You don't leave until I'm satisfied with your contribution.

Spider-Man interrupted the mercenary's retort. "You'll never guess what happened."

"You found a horse..." Deadpool muttered bitterly.

"Wow. How did you know?" Spider-Man said in amazement as that same horse nudged against his shoulder.

Protonslaught blinked rapidly at the talking head...not that anyone could see it beneath the mask. "How is he still alive?"

Spider-Man shrugged the question off entirely, not even remotely worried for the loud-mouthed loser's safety. "He can't die. Trust me. I've seen him in worse scrapes than this."

"I wish I was dead right about now." Deadpool hissed. "Prote, do me a favour and shoot yourself, would ya? I'm kind of occupied at the moment..."

"Why don't I just shoot you instead?" She huffed back.

"Go ahead. I won't really feel it until my body decides to pull itself back together...unless you aim for my face." Deadpool pondered. "Don't aim for my face."

Protonslaught tilted her head to the side much like a curious puppy. "If I shoot him in the face, is that considered a crime? Because, like...he won't die or anything."

Deadpool's severed arm flopped about, trying to function without any connection to the mercenary's incredibly small brain. Finally, the index finger flung out and pointed at the woman as if it were preparing to scold her. However, Deadpool relied on his mouth to do the talking instead. "Don't you dare, or I'll reveal your secret identity to Buggy over there."

Protonslaught's eyes widened in horror. "You know my...secret identity?"

"Who doesn't?! It's so obvious that I'm shocked this story lasted so long!" Deadpool turned back towards the sky and shouted. "I mean, come on, twenty chapters of absolute nonesense! They should have figured it out by now!"

Shut it you greasy, lasagna-faced loser. Don't ruin this for me. I'll literally feed you to Galactus if you try.

"You wouldn't..."

I would.

"I don't believe you."

Galactus, also known as the 'planet eater', appeared in the sky; his head the size of a whole planet in itself. He grabbed Deadpool's head with his massive fingers and gulped it down in one swallow. He left the rest of his scattered body where it was. Why? Because now it'll take even longer for him to piece himself back together. You're welcome.

Galactus then vanished from the horizon; his eyes twinkling like two distant stars beneath the morning clouds.

Fuck you, Deadpool.

Spider-Man and Protonslaught, admittedly bewildered by this entire ordeal, blinked at the pile of limbs in front of them. Spidey murmured "Was that...Galactus?"

"I don't even know who that is...but if he's a massive, gigantic guy in space then yes. That looked like him." Protonslaught answered, still staring at the sky as if she couldn't quite comprehend what had happened.

"Okay...well, this was eventful. I think maybe we should reschedule the whole 'teaching you physics' thing for another day."

Suddenly, Protonslaught jumped back into focus and shook her head. "No way! I need to learn how to use my powers! Some hallucinating weirdo isn't going to stop me, so it shouldn't stop you either."

Spidey sighed. Honestly, he would have looked for any excuse to get out of this whole teaching gig. He wasn't a fan of Protonslaught to begin with, and now he was stuck trying to help her learn about physics? It was a nightmare...but one that he knew he'd have to endure. Having control over atoms was a dangerous ability, especially in the hands of someone that didn't know how to use it.

"Fine." Spider-Man huffed, defeated. "We'll start with something simple. Try making a sandwich...make it ham and cheese. I haven't had that in a long time."

Protonslaught narrowed her eyes. "Are you tying to insult me?"

"What? I'm hungry. Is that a crime? The best part about your powers is the potential for free food."

Protonslaught scowled at him, and with a rather sour look, she obliged...well, she tried to. Reaching her hands out in front of her, she concentrated on the idea of a sandwich; what is a sandwich? What makes a sandwich a sandwich? Then, out of thin air, she created the most beautiful sandwhich mankind had ever laid eyes upon!... Just kidding. She didn't do that. It was a giant lump. She didn't know what it was, but she knew it was definitely something.

"Uh...What is that?" She asked in confusion.

Spider-Man hummed thoughtfully, dubbing his masked chin. He analysed the lump...he smelt the lump...he tapped on the lump. Then, when all else failed, he brought his mask up slightly, just past his lips, and licked the side. "Oh, yeah. That's pure carbon, one of the most common elements in the universe. Looks like we're getting somewhere."

Well, it was no sandwich but they were definitely getting closer to Spider-Man being able to leech food from Protonslaught for his services. What? He wasn't going to teach her all this for free when food was a possible payment.

"Ya call tha' a sandwich? It looks like a pile of fucking shiet." The very British accent of Gordon Ramsay suddenly attacked the morning air.

Protonslaught gasped at the sight of such an esteemed and decorated asshole, but before she could even open her mouths to reply, a bullet hit him square between the eyes.

Deadpool's severed hand dropped the gun and lifted his middle finger to the higher power that had forced him into yet another shitty Fanfiction.