S.F.T.M.M

Get Paid Enough?

Disclaimer: Deadpool aka Wade Wilson belongs to Marvel. I, in no way, own the characters mentioned in this story. They all belong to their respective makers. Merely, I borrow them with the intent to entertain, nothing more nothingless. With that, let us close the curtains and allow for the Merc with a Mouth to tell his side of the tale.

***

"Stop the press release; stop the lights and stop the bangings; and fangirls do not let that stop you from jumping into my arms! This feebs, is how it actually happened, all fresh in my mind which you know is kind of like a doubtable fact if you've been tuning into my comic books. But anyway, you can tell, right? I mean you've seen the opening of Ultimate Marvel Vs. Capcom...RIGHT? There were too many damages piling within this city. Too many collateral on the collaterals and too many casualties on well...the casualties. Following me so far here skippy? Anyway just imagine how I've been dragged out of my comfy worn out couch in Manhattan just to participate in this little game with my otherworldly past employer, Galactus, in order to bring some sense of happiness for my undying fans at Marvel and Capcom studios. It's a tough job but someone's got to do it. Someone's got to keep the masses laughing and someone's got to nail a health bar in people's faces. (What are you talking about?) I'm talking about the game, the game! Obviously you don't Google as much as I do. [But that's beyond the point. This is fanfiction right here. Quit stallin.] Gee wheeze little parenthesis and bracket boxes you could'a fooled me.

So yeah, fast forward to what's happening now. There's probably a thousand dollars worth of items and gift checks ruined inside this thirty something story bar. Lights were out as if it was a bed time setting, and the only spark that you could make out possibly came from the dangerous end of my guns and his. There's aslo the SHING SHING that came from my katanas and his big ass demon looking sword. IT.IS.AWESOME. But you know the gist right? Merc on Merc, one hell of a bromance leading to the dance of Death (and speakin of Death, will we see her in her purple robes today?) Oh how I wish~ [Focus...], and many more entrails left for the undying viewers. Seriously though, first one to drop dead would actually be kind of lucky, coz you see, if what I read in the Devil May Cry wikia is true, (and you lovely readers know I'm talking about Dante, right?) this could be a very long dance. He doesn't die, I don't die, yeah well feebs, you know that's gotta be messy. And speaking of butts, [We didn't mention butts...] We did now. Now where was I before I rudely interrupted myself, yeah! Butts! Our little game of pin the bullet on the albino devil got interrupted when something just shot into the window and up my little ass clad spandex. Now if I had seen that the tentacle action came from a hot chika, I'd have been thrilled enough to say "Now you see, I'm kinda liking this thing here." But there was no proof of the existence of this butt raper except for her tentalicious protrusions and maybe some Youtube videos buuuuuuuut~ I pretend to have not seen that. So yes, I went plummeting out of the window and down to the abysmal horde of concrete known as the pavement below...and so without further a-do..."

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Earlier...

Baby I wasn't in Manhattan anymore. Heck if I could even remember what forsaken city I ended up in this time. Was it for the job? Maybe. Was it for the cash? Definitely. Was it for all the hot chicks and strippers of whom were barely clad with anything while I sat there behind the table watching a well executed pole dance?

Hellz yeah!

But there were other things here.

Bad things.

Apparently my client wants his nose in on the action. Too bad he couldn't see this. Or more appropriately, too bad there was not a Taco Bell hut in the vicinity. Would have been nice to enjoy everything with a bag of Tacos and a mug full of beer...definitely better than any film Quentin Tarantino could throw at me at the moment. But yes, I had a job to do here, and where else would be the best place to get information? I'd say the Hellhouse, but they're out of commission. I'd say Black Box, but he creeps me out. So the better option was the local strip club.