Day Two

[Deadpool]

”Well, that was unexpected!” The mercenary said while chuckling. ”I mean, Jason was presumed to be dead, right? I guess not! The reaper of inactivity and awayness—Karl’s just-hand!”

Mami’s corpse trembled (like a vibrator) in position, standing with her own liquids shooting from her removed top like a shaken and opened Pepsi can. Then, with one jolting convulsion, she dropped to the red and white checkered floor with a echoing thud!

Sasuke’s hands held the head of Mami as his eyes gazed at it with terror and festering anger. Her eyes were lifeless, half rolled above their lids, with an open mouth; its screams were now muted. The ninja gritted his teeth and grumbled a conjunction of curses that only he himself could decipher.

“W-what just happened?” Vincent stammered as he poked his head from under the counter, next to Deadpool’s swaying legs. His eyes twitched like a newborn’s, but he could finally see again (hear again too, if what he said was truly a question).

”What happened was, someone just got a load of EXP for work they didn’t start,” Deadpool replied.

All the gunslinger could do was raise a brow at the mercenary. He got up from under the counter and dusted off his injured body.



I guess Vincent can’t break 4th wall like me. That joke woulda been a lot better if he could.



Wartortle’s eyes fixated on the Mami’s headless corpse; a pool of blood began to envelope Mami’s corpse as the one final squirt shot from her exposed neck. “Whatever that masked fuck had, I want,” the terrorist muttered. “Shit went through that girl’s head like a hot knife through butter.”

”Yeah, Jason definitely cut her hedges for her,” the mercenary jested. He dropped down from the counter and looked at Wartortle. The turtle returned the gaze and began to reach a webbed claw for the nail gun sheathed in his shell. ”Don’t worry dude, (for once) I don’t come in violence,” he cooed. ”I know you, and you—somehow—still know me."

Wartortle’s claw hesitated, halting right before reaching the butt of his weapon. “I’m listening,” he replied, but soon unveiled a sinister smirk. “You’re gonna have to try harder though, because last time I remember, I fucked your face in our last encounter. Why not just do it again, and plunder your corpse?”

Because Deadpool needed help, that was why. He would not tell his group, but the fatigue from his persisting cancer still maintained its grip on around his energy; with each passing day, he his breaths drew longer, and his posture weakened.
The process proceeded slowly, but his fatigue grew like the stench of spoiled milk; or piss around the rim of a toilet. The turtle, though a terrorist, was worth teaming with, especially after Crona’s blind bravery.

Deadpool replied first with a grin, soon followed by an on-the-fly response: ”You can try to kill me, but . . .” He turned to look at Vincent, and then Sasuke (who was still manifesting vengeful feelings over Mami’s death). ”My compadrès look hungry, and you look like you’d make enough turtle stew to last at least a DA Day.”

Wartortle snarled, exposing a collection of sharp teeth, and grabbed the butt of his nailgun. “Go ahead and try, bitch, and I will make sure your mouth is stitched before I murder you.”

Deadpool sighed. Matching the turtle’s aggression stalemated, but maybe a softer approach would work . . . ”Look man, you’re a much more interesting character when you have people to badger,” he tried. “Plus, I saw your post in the Lobby, so based on that I wager you wanna face fuck Karl. Joining us gives you that chance.”

Wartorle juggled the proposition in his head, but with an eye-bat and smile easing on his face he said, “Let’s fucking destroy that bastard.” He slumped his claw back to his shelled side and gave the mercenary a nod of respect.



Hm . . . so I wonder if I get the pokèball, can I capture Wartortle . . . .?

=O



“So, what now?” Vincent inquired. He looked over his shoulder and towards a window. A poster shielded most of it(‘Best Burgers in town’ it read in bold colors, accompanied by a juicy burger image), but the torrent of rain remained visible around its edges. “Are we staying here until the storm dies down?”

Deadpool looked over at his video game comrade. He wanted to agree, but knew the diner was dangerous now. ”Nah,” he replied, ”There’re cameras all in this place—for the sake of viewership Not to mentioned the viewing writers . . .