+- Omni Archive (https://omni.zulenka.com)
+-- Forum: Discussion Forums (https://omni.zulenka.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=3)
+--- Forum: The Creative Corner (https://omni.zulenka.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=30)
+--- Thread: Old skool DP (/showthread.php?tid=1781)
Old skool DP - Deadpool - 06-15-2015
Quote:This is some of my old writing as Deadpool (on Another Destiny). Alex found this for me a couple months back and I figured I would share. I didn't code it or anything because I'm on phone right now
Deadpool sauntered along a beaten road as his journey continued to the city of Tropicana. Weasel had given him the location of the city and even a GPS to help navigate. Deadpool had misplaced the GPS, however, during a scuffle with a random super villain named Shaun von Dingalong.
”I think I might have hidden it in the rectal cavity of one of those Vietnamese citizens. Ya’know, like Christopher Walken did with that watch in Pulp Fiction.”
Something was becoming visible in the distance. Deadpool peered but could not determine what lied ahead of him. Could it be the city? It was still too far to even begin fathoming. For now it was merely a blur (a Gaussian blur, Deadpool reckoned).
”The whole idea to hide the GPS seemed pretty good when Mr. Dingalong was using his Dingaling Swing. I don’t even want to elaborate on that one. And the next time my dialogue is interrupted for narration I’m gonna pull a Newman on someone’s Jerry ass.”
He kept walking, unearthing more of the picture, making it clearer to his perfect vision. Pixels, as Deadpool called it from his Atari days, were beginning to focus in. A yellow strip seemed to be dividing his end of the road from the other. A black and white vehicle was also noticed by Deadpool’s eyes; he reckoned it was a Chevy. He hoped that it was a Monte Carlo, his favorite car.
”My favorite automotive is a Winnebago, not a Monte Carlo! In today’s culture you need to show the girls that you’ve got money. What better way to do so than by driving a car that gets 10 miles to the gallon?!”
The vehicle that was there—now only a few yards away—was an Impala police cruiser; the yellow tape that said: TPD –DO NOT CROSS.
As Deadpool neared, the driver’s door of the Chevy popped open and a figure emerged. He had the appearance of an ex-soldier; his robust muscles only confined by his black uniform. He slowly approached the yellow tape, reaching for his belt and grabbing the nightstick from its holster.
“Woah there buddy,” the officer remarked, raising a flat hand towards the Teflon-clad hero, “turn around and go home.”
Deadpool walked closer, pulling his mask up and picking his nostrils. ”What’s up po-po?” He mined out a large wad of dried mucus and flicked it into the air.
Inarticulate nonsense erupted from his radio. He grabbed his collarbone with the free hand (where the communicator was strapped onto the uniform) and replied: “Copy that.” Deadpool stared at the metal nametag mounted right above the police badge. Chiseled into the metal was: BRIAN BUCHANAN. The policeman stared at him with mild confusion and aggravation. “Didn’t I tell you to scram, kid? Go back home and wait for Halloween.”
”I see that both your names start with the same letters.” A smile creased his mask. “Both my names do too!”
The officer arched a brow as his confusion intensified. “What are you, retarded?” he asked as he tightened his grasp on the nightstick.
”Nope,” Deadpool replied. “Canadian.”
“If you don’t vacate the area I’ll have to take you into custody. You don’t want that.” The communicator bleeped twice and then sprayed out more inarticulate gibberish.
Wade laughed, placing his hands on his hips. “You? Take me into custody? What do you think I am, Asian?I just told you, I’m Canadian. Is that the type of courtesy you’re gonna show me after my nation has protected America from glaciers?!” The look on the officer’s face transfigured from confusion immediately into anger. Deadpool could tell that this he was not going to take lightly to cockiness. ”Look, I need to get into Tropicana, Mr—“ he glanced back at the metal nametag—“Buchanan. I got business there. You should understand—the economy is in a wreck, and I’m a fat person for dough. A disgusting, obese, cake-eating fiend for it. If I could, officer, I’d eat the Pillsbury Dough Boy. That’s how much I need money”
“That’s it; you had your chance buddy. I’m bringing you in!” the officer exclaimed, raising the nightstick high above his head.
”One more step and I’ll blow you—“ A quick tremor shook the earth with moderate force. ”What the hell was that? It totally made my last remark sound extremely sexual.
“That was a nice little earthquake,” the policeman muttered as tossed a glance over his shoulder to make sure his cruiser was all right.
Though he had the All-American appearance, Buchanan hadn’t been the best officer throughout his career. During his earlier years he had done whatever necessary to obtain money—extortion, blackmail, money laundering, everything. He could still recall one time, when he was a rookie officer, where he had an offer of a few thousand dollars to conceal evidence. He cooperated.
It had been a long time since his last sinful deed, however. He was never caught, luckily, but knew that his collegues were beginning to suspect where all of his new impressive gadgets were coming from (police salary didn’t exactly permit a fresh Porsche). Ever since he made that turn his life he decided that he would redeem himself by excellence on duty and making sure that none of the Tropicana Police Department funds would go to waste—at least if it was in his possession. He counted that Chevy Impala as such.
The tremor, though mild in force, still hadn’t faded away. The ground unyieldingly continued to convulse, and it grew stronger with every rattle. It was even beginning to roar.
The trembles in the earth were finally beginning to take their toll on the three—Buchanan, Deadpool, and the Chevy. Deadpool’s balance wobbled with every motion of the ground, only requiring one convincingly strong tremor to topple him over. Buchanan was a native of California and had dealt with quakes in the past. The Impala was no longer fairing so well. The tremors were beginning to shake the cruiser. Nothing serious, but Buchanan didn’t want to take any chances. He ran over to his vehicle and leaned his back up against its broadside to keep its balance settled.
”Buchanan! What’s happening?! I feel less balanced than Kurt Cobain—post-addiction!”
Buchanan looked over at Deadpool. To him this crazed individual belonged in a mental institution. However, this was neither the time nor place to judge people. They were in a tight situation together, and he regarded him as another civilian that he was going to have to provide safety for. “It should be passing soon,” he shouted, barely able to project his voice over the thunderous booms.
Deadpool finally toppled over, taking a seat on his ass. The earth rippled against his buttocks with intense force. He grunted.“Wow, this is really uncomfortable. Like, I can’t even express my discomfort,” He was as if he was being starred in a shemale pornography film.“I feel like Mother Nature is trying to take my virginity! When is this prologue gonna end?!”
Though the tremor that was occurring seemed to be an ordinary earthquake, it wasn’t. And what the officer mentioned about it ending soon never came to be. The fact was that it didn’t stop. On the contrary, it was worsening. Light tremors were manifesting into violent convulsions.
The police vehicle’s endurance was beginning to fold. It shook as violently as the earth did. The right side tires began to play hop-scotch with the road, hopping up and down. Buchanan leaned against it harder, applying more of his bodyweight onto the vehicle. He struggled to maintain its balance, but it seemed like he was managing.
”Hey, answer me! I thought you said it wouldn’t last long! You lied! Pulling a Clinton on me, are you?!” the Merc considered taking the top portion of the officer’s cranium off with his AK-47, but quickly dismissed the idea.
The policeman didn’t answer to him. He looked up at the sky and a look of shock overwhelmed him. “The sky,” he murmured, almost mildly, “Jesus Christ.”
The clouds were beginning to assimilate into the atmosphere, revealing the galaxy as clearly as a freshly cleaned window. Things just weren’t the same. It almost appeared as if the planet was moving, and not in the typical sense of revolving, but actually moving! Distant planets usually incapable of visualizing with the naked eye were beginning to become closer.
“What the hell is going on?” Deadpool asked as he struggled to pick himself off of shaking ground. “It’s almost like we’re getting an oral favor.” He almost laughed as he muttered the words. ”Sorry, I just had to add a sexual reference. The whole blowing thing earlier didn’t really count since it wasn’t intentional.”
“Someth—“
Another tremor stuck them, this one much more catastrophic than its predecessors. Deadpool fell back down, ass first once again. Damnit! He thought to himself as he could feel the pain shoot up his colon.
The Chevy went airborne; all four wheels levitated off of the ground. It thumped back down onto the ground, but a subsequent quake rocked it over. The Impala tilted over boardside—Buchanan’s side! He struggled to keep it upright, but the weight was too much. He could feel his back slowly giving in, but he stayed stationed still. The vehicle didn’t care about his efforts. It relentlessly and effortlessly crushed Buchanan. The officer gave out a final screech as the vehicle buckled his back and sent him downward, the force of the car falling against him.
Deadpool did nothing. He only watched as the cruiser rolled over on top of Buchanan, crushing his legs and then completely squashing his genitals. “Holy moly!” Deadpool exclaimed as he saw the officer’s body swallowed by the vehicle’s mass.
“Help!” he yelled. The entirety of his lower-body had been amputated from the top. Painful. Extremely painful. He tried desperately to claw his way out of the wreckage but he couldn’t muster up the strength. “You! Suit guy! Fucking help!” he yelped with the remainder of his energy.
Buchanan didn’t want to die. Who does? But he knew that even if he was saved he’d only be half the man he was before. Literally. Deadpool wasn’t coming over to rescue him. Buchanan could tell by the blank expression he had. The pain was excruciating—he wanted to cry—but he kept his hurting inside. There was no point in allowing his emotions get the best of him. It was over, and he’d just have to accept it.
Buchanan had never been a religious man, but he wagered that this was the time to give God a shot. He began to grumble a prayer.
Deadpool, though he loved to see suffering, didn’t enjoy watching the officer die. What would Jehovah do? Jehovah would put this man out of his misery, he thought to himself, pulling one of his pistols out from its holster and chambering a bullet. ”It’s gonna be okay, Brian,” he remarked, aiming the pistol up at the officer’s head. Buchanan glanced back over at the Merc and his eyes widened. Wade began to sing the lyrics to “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing” by Aerosmith.
Don’t wanna close my eyes . . .
I Don’t wanna fall asleep
Cause I’d miss you baby
And I don’t wanna miss a thing
Bang! the barrel boomed as one of the bullets were ejected and shot into the head of the officer. Bang! Bang!
”I guess I didn’t have to shoot him three times,” he remarked, twirling the pistol around his index finger. “One to kill him, another to assure his death. The last one was because I liked the sound. Plus I thought he moved.”
Only one thing remained: saving himself. A few ideas ran through his head. He could either allow whatever was happening to happen—if he lived he lived; if he didn’t, well, then, he wagered that would suck. He didn’t want to die. Or he could fight for his survival.
Re: Old skool DP - Thaal Sinestro - 06-15-2015
I like it! It's cool to see how far you've come as a writer
Re: Old skool DP - Deadpool - 06-15-2015
Thank you! I'd like to think I've made strides since then. However, I'd love to recapture that humor I used to have with DP.
Re: Old skool DP - Thaal Sinestro - 06-15-2015
Deadpool Wrote:Thank you! I'd like to think I've made strides since then. However, I'd love to recapture that humor I used to have with DP.I think the humor you used in the thread I CCed was on point. It was a mainly serious thread punctuated by harsh humor, which is like dead on for old DP