Deadpool looked at the bootyfull chimichanga in his hands and felt surprised.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his crowded surroundings. He had always loved beautiful New York with its steamed, slimy skyscraper. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel surprised.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Rob Pigeon. Rob was a smelly gay with tall fingers and dirty fingers.
Deadpool gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an intuitive, brave, beer drinker with buff fingers and spiky fingers. His friends saw him as a burnt, blue badass. Once, he had even rescued a short old chinese lady from a burning building.
But not even an intuitive person who had once rescued a short old chinese lady from a burning building, was prepared for what Rob had in store today.
The sunny teased like boating snakes, making Deadpool fuzzy.
As Deadpool stepped outside and Rob came closer, he could see the black glint in his eye.
"I am here because I want boobs," Rob bellowed, in a tight-fisted tone. He slammed his fist against Deadpool's chest, with the force of 7374 foxes. "I frigging love you, Deadpool ."
Deadpool looked back, even more fuzzy and still fingering the bootyfull chimichanga. "Rob, nO they are mine," he replied.
They looked at each other with angry feelings, like two unnatural, uneven unicorns sleeping at a very snotty car chase, which had rock music playing in the background and two thoughtful uncles shouting to the beat.
Suddenly, Rob lunged forward and tried to punch Deadpool in the face. Quickly, Deadpool grabbed the bootyfull chimichanga and brought it down on Rob's skull.
Rob's tall fingers trembled and his dirty fingers wobbled. He looked delighted, his body raw like a kindly, knobby katana.
Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Rob Pigeon was dead.
Deadpool went back inside and made himself a nice drink of beer.
THE END
