Elimination Exit

[Deadpool]

”Hello? Deadpool asked. He stood in the Syntech waiting area, head down, and tapping his foot against the floor with impatience; a cellular device was held to his ear.

“Syntech Productions,” the soft voice of a female replied, “how you can I help you?”

”Yeah, typical young secretary bitch, put me through to Karl.”

“I-I-B… I believe he's busy at the moment. May I take a message for him?”

”No you can't take a goddamn message,” he retorted. ”Just put me through to that Billy Zane, Liberace looking mothafucker.”

“One moment please.”

Click—once the secretary put the call on hold, a soothing melody started to play. Soothing to most, at least; to the mercenary, it sounded like one of those 80's porn scores, before being developed into dull elevator music.

He paced back and forth quicker than an anxious man outside of a courtroom as he waited for Karl's neither masculine nor feminine voice to interrupt the loop of porn jazz. Each time the saxophone would burst into an ad lib, he wanted to send his fist into a wall.

“Good evening, Mr. Wilson,” Karl's voice finally answered.

Time to lay into him.

”What the fuck of fucks! Deadpool exclaimed. ”I know you got a lot of fans that were complaining during this thing!

The producer humphed. “I see you're as bold as ever today… what's wrong?”

Deadpool had to drawl a deep breath for all the shit he was about to unload onto Karl: ”One… (insert list bullet)… W.T.F., you separate me from Pimp-C??? We had some chemistry going, man. Two … (bullet)… how is any champion of D.A. valid if they haven't met me??? Sasuke interacted with me; 'Red'—or whatever the fuck his name is—came across me too; I just figured that all championship roads came through me, like a prism or some shit. Three… (bullet)… quest items?? C'mon man, D.A. is about murder island; I'm a murderer.

It was bad enough last year that the whole goddamn even got ruined by your need to make a bajillion copies of yourself, but this is just wrong!”

“...” Karl cleared his throat. “I'm sorry, I thought you were still shitting from your mouth. Let me try to answer all of these questions simultaneously for you, that way it's as clear as water: I'm the host, and you're the participant; if you don't like what I do, then you can simply not participate. I do not need your narrow, hindsight advice. I do not want your narrow, hindsight advice. Have a good day, Wade.”

The producer hung up the phone.

Deadpool leaves for Tangled Greens