06-30-2017, 01:06 PM
They must have entered the shopping district—every store either had the word 'clothing' or 'boutique' in its name, and the ones that didn't were designer names (Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Versace). Their storefronts were pristine; windows showcased mannikins attired in high-fashion, which only the absurdly wealthy could afford.
Deadpool imagined that Karl visited the area often, going from store to store, completely emptying each of their seasonal stocks to satisfy his taste of swagger. Employees trembled as they saw him near their doors, frightened at the prospect of doing the arduous task of removing everything from their shelves.
Jak rolled his eyes over the stores, unamused. He couldn't picture himself in a Tom Ford suit, or Ferragamo shoes—he didn't even know what the damn difference was between brands, nor did he care. Besides, in his home universe, he murdered too many creatures to consistently afford dry-cleaning.
Deadpool clapped the eco warrior's shoulder. ”We should get you some skinny jeans.”
“Skinny jeans?” Jak furrowed a bro. “Why? That would make my shoes look like banana boats.”
”My shoes'll look like bananer boats,” the mercenary whimpered as he imitated a popular internet meme. ”When you see the looks on women's faces as their eyes follow your bulge to your kneecaps, you'll see why you should wear skinny jeans.”
“If there so cool, why don't you wear them?” Jak countered.
”Because I have extremely cut thigh muscles—I mean you can see them now—which would overlap and partially hide my tremendous penis,” the mercenary replied. ”You, on the other hand, have bird legs; they look like someone attached two broomsticks to scarecrow to make it appear more humanoid.”
Jak still had his apprehensions, but before he could flatly reject the idea, the mercernay threw his arm around his shoulders and dragged him into the nearest urban boutique.
The two of them snatched what they could, stuffing their backpacks with clothing until they were bulging like children that had their fill; when their collars started to blink green, they rushed for the safe house.
Deadpool imagined that Karl visited the area often, going from store to store, completely emptying each of their seasonal stocks to satisfy his taste of swagger. Employees trembled as they saw him near their doors, frightened at the prospect of doing the arduous task of removing everything from their shelves.
Jak rolled his eyes over the stores, unamused. He couldn't picture himself in a Tom Ford suit, or Ferragamo shoes—he didn't even know what the damn difference was between brands, nor did he care. Besides, in his home universe, he murdered too many creatures to consistently afford dry-cleaning.
Deadpool clapped the eco warrior's shoulder. ”We should get you some skinny jeans.”
“Skinny jeans?” Jak furrowed a bro. “Why? That would make my shoes look like banana boats.”
”My shoes'll look like bananer boats,” the mercenary whimpered as he imitated a popular internet meme. ”When you see the looks on women's faces as their eyes follow your bulge to your kneecaps, you'll see why you should wear skinny jeans.”
“If there so cool, why don't you wear them?” Jak countered.
”Because I have extremely cut thigh muscles—I mean you can see them now—which would overlap and partially hide my tremendous penis,” the mercenary replied. ”You, on the other hand, have bird legs; they look like someone attached two broomsticks to scarecrow to make it appear more humanoid.”
Jak still had his apprehensions, but before he could flatly reject the idea, the mercernay threw his arm around his shoulders and dragged him into the nearest urban boutique.
The two of them snatched what they could, stuffing their backpacks with clothing until they were bulging like children that had their fill; when their collars started to blink green, they rushed for the safe house.
Quote:Jakpool moving from C21 to warehouse


![[Image: Deadpool_Funny.png]](http://i137.photobucket.com/albums/q218/Aerogfx/sigs/Deadpool_Funny.png)