Mindy McCready has left her life behind. After leaving New York and Kick-Ass, she travels to the city of Vancouver to continue with her vigilantism under the radar.
Wade Wilson has been instructed to assassinate the bizarre crime-lord calling himse...
Her first kiss was still dancing about in her head. The cars and road-signs skipped by. She breathed out into her purple helmet, feeling free. She flew down the highway, revving her motorcycle. Kick-Ass could handle New York by himself, and so Hit-Girl was going to spread her late Daddy's wrath to another city. She had one in particular in mind. Her cloak blew in the warm wind, flowing from her back. The city of Vancouver had been in the news lately; a spree of bizarre crimes, seemingly carried out on random, innocent victims with seemingly no connection. The corpses were found burnt to death by an unidentifiable substance, their houses ransacked, but seemingly no possessions missing. 'You'll do good, my Baby Doll' - the words of her Daddy rung in her ears.
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The figure crouched, gargoyle-like on one of the long-straight-things of a suspension bridge. He inconspicuously whistled the 'Spider-Man' theme as he watched the purple motorcycle race by below him. 'Well, that's normal!' He said to no-one but himself. He continued to peer at the young girl riding the alarmingly purple vehicle down a well-known highway in broad daylight. 'WHY THE HELL DOES NO-ONE NOTICE THAT!' He yelled, completely blowing an cover that he may or may not have ever had. He teetered on the edge of plummeting to his not-really-death on the road below. He continued to moan to himself 'Ugh. People in these stories are stupid. I blame bad writing.' He then spoke in to a small earpiece.
'Adsit, what is it? I'm kinda busy!' 'You have been given a target. And I can tell that you're not busy' 'How do you know that I'm not stopping an invasion of alarmingly beautiful alien warrior women that all seem to have tails emerging from their foreheads?' 'Because you're an idiot. An insane idiot.' 'Yeah, yeah, yeah. Ok, shut up Ass-pit'
The person who was still called Adsit promptly shut the server, preventing Deadpool from abusing him any more. Deadpool seemed disappointed at this, but just said 'you either live long enough to see your self become a villain, or die a hero.' 'That quote doesn't work there!' He declared proudly at himself. 'YOUR FACE DOESN'T WORK THERE!!!' He yelled back, arguing with himself like a madman. He opened the server up again, seemingly bored of being a dick to himself.
'Hello, Mr. Wilson. I haven't spoken to you in a bloody long time.' Moaned Adsit sarcastically. 'Hello, Mr. Ass-' 'Don't say it!' 'Asspit! Asspit! Asspit!' 'What do you want now?' Adsit asked bluntly, not really giving a damn what Wade could possibly want. 'I want you. Yes you. To give me information on my next contract. YOUR COUNTRY NEEDS YOU! Oh, and how much they're paying me. No pay, no pain.' Slurred Deadpool. 'Yes. Okay. I heard that. Don't yell. He's calling himself 'Ace of Knives'. Grade A creep, as you can probably tell. He's been targeting cops and low-level politicians. So far he's killed 17 people. This is officially a serial killer that we're dealing with here, Wade.' 'Any idea where to find the guy?' Asked Wade, mildly interested. 'The last murder took place at the home of the cop James Barton; he was found dead on his carpet with a bladed playing card in his face. No fingerprints were found on the card. Which was, of course, an ace.' Deadpool then promptly removed his mask, picked the earpiece from his ear, and then promptly repositioned it on the crotch of his costume. 'Yeah, that's great, Adsit. Talk to my dick.' A muffled response floated up from his crotch. 'DAMMIT DEADPOOL!'
