DISCLAIMER: They belong to Marvel and DC comics, respectively, and not to me. The RL person belongs to herself, and the writing style belongs to the late Theodore Geisel -- the genius you probably know better as Dr. Seuss. None are used with permission, nor for profit.
FEEDBACK: Please, to indigo@indigosky.net And before you ask, NO. I DON'T have any more crack. I used it all up to write this. :) Get your own crack.
DEDICATION: To Redhawk. Ask him, it's a long, twisted story.
ARCHIVE: Usual rules apply.
PERMISSIONS: Do not MST, but go right ahead and POP-UP if you like.
Blood Is Thicker Than Bullets
by Indigo
In a flicker of
tech, and a flecker of flash
Deadpool returned in a burst of
panache.
Patch did a facepalm, and Mary did too.
Deadpool addressed the
mercenary zoo.
"When you kicked me out of my favourite Hellhouse,
"You
said never come back! You called me a louse!"
"I shudder to say that I made a mistake,
"I
shiver to think that you're getting a break."
Patch sighed; this was giving
him quite a headache.
"But no other merc would take this job,
"So
Deadpool, you get it, you poor, lucky slob."
The Merc with the Mouth smiled a Merc-mouthy
smile.
He considered and thought and he pondered awhile.
"If I'm such a
poor slob, and I take this here job,
"And I slice and I dice and I shoot
with my gun
"This schmoo or this schmoe, for both money and fun,
"It
best take more effort than just grenade lob!"
Patch twirled his moustache, and he twirled it
some more
"Wade, it's got all that violence you like best in
store!
"You'll get to quip quips, and you'll get to crack wise,
"You'll
get to shoot guns, and cut guards down to size!"
"With that kind of offer, how can I
refuse?"
Wade's head filled with thoughts of blood-bloody ooze.
"So show
me who's going to come to such harm!"
Wade said, "Come on, and tell me,
now! Who buys the farm?"
Patch hemmed and he hawed and he hawed and he
hemmed.
When Deadpool saw who, he laughed, "Oh boy, it's
*them*!"
* * *
Elsewhere in the world, a fax machine
clicked,
sending the same contract out to the sticks.
A butler who butled with style and with
grace,
read the fax quickly, a frown on his face.
"They want the best,"
the butler did sigh.
And being a good butler, called up that same
guy.
Slade Wilson was hunting a rare antelope
Not
with gun or with knife or with hook or with rope
But with a camera, some
film and a flash
Planned to capture the critter before it could
dash.
"Sir, you've a contract," the butler's voice
said.
The antelope ran, and Slade banged his head
on the most nearest
tree, which just happened to be
a vent of frustration, which turned to
elation
when he found who it was they wanted dead.
"Not that I'd turn down this offer of
cash,"
said Slade, "I could do this job quick as a flash.
"But why spend
the money on Mr. Deathstroke?
"The job could be done by much cheaper
folks.
"Mine is not to reason why,
"Just to butle
and to fly
"You here or there, or anywhere."
The butler shrugged, the
butler smiled.
His boss smiled back after a while.
"You know why they
won't choose the rest.
"East or west, Deathstroke's the best."
"I am the best, I must admit.
"And after this
job, I can quit.
"With all the money they will pay
"I'll never work
another day!"
"Send send back the fax, and tell them
yes.
"I'll do the job, I'll make the mess.
"I'll bump them off, and make
them die.
"And then back here, I'll quickly fly
"To hunt my antelope
some more
"And with my camera finally score."
* * *
So Slade suited up in his orange and blue.
He
formed him a plan, knew just what to do.
He formed a contingency, backup
plan too.
Best or not, he'd been thwarted a time or two.
Slade had the advantage, the cool upper
hand.
But super-do-gooders often messed up his plans.
A situation
expected on every last hit
Though Slade took no joy, no elation from
it,
So he packed and he racked and he sighed a big sigh.
He was no
speedster, and he could not fly,
So he realized that it might be more tough
after all
Than he thought it at first, it might end up a brawl.
* * *
And Wade packed his bags and he whistled a
tune:
"My image inducer, my water balloons,
"My inflatable sheep gun, my
garotte, my knife!
"My other fun gizmos with which I'll take life!
~What
happened to wanting to be a good guy?~
His conscience demanded with a
put-upon sigh.
"I suck at the hero bit, that's what it
is!
"I do what I'm good at, the violence biz!"
With his bags all packed
up and his gear stowed away
Deadpool was ready to enter the
fray...
"Uh, better get dressed," he sheepishly
said.
Then wriggled on spandex in both black and red.
* * *
In a twinkle of spark and a twonkle of
light.
Deathstroke arrived on a rooftop that night.
He settled himself
in, spyglass in hand.
To observe his victim and fine-tune his
plan.
The Merc with the mouth took a different
view.
Image inducered, he got closer to
The quarry, 'til bouncers
bounced him away.
"Unforeseen consequence. Better try a new
play."
* * *
"Now I see why the pay was so
vast.
"Screaming crowds of thousands for me to get past.
"Nothing I
haven't done before...
"But fanatic teenagers may just declare
war."
Deathstroke put down his binocs and he sighed a
great sigh.
"I'd hoped to be subtle, with a rifle, on high.
"But now I
must beard the lion in his den.
"And face the wrath of young women -- and
men."
* * *
"Of course!" Wade cried. "I know I can't
lose!"
Deadpool thought of his face. He looked like Thom Cruz!
"I've got
big brass ones," he thought with pride.
And just as he hoped, the guards
let him inside.
A kick to the head, of a guard on his
right,
a very fast brawl, then his target in sight.
Deadpool could've
fired and ended the case,
but it was too easy -- he wanted a
chase.
* * *
Deathstroke was quite frankly a little bit
sore
when he entered and found guards laid out on the floor.
"That means
another is after the mark.
"My taser and its electrical arc
"Will make
short work of my unknown foe
"And on to the big money I will then
go."
His target stood helpless, right there on the
stage
But Slade wouldn't shoot a tiger in a cage.
The chase was more
fun, if he could call it that.
The killing, the murder, he never quailed
at.
* * *
"Like a deer, then, I'll give her a fine
sporting chance.
"If the mark's got brains, she'll run at first
glance
"Of me standing in here with a gun pointed thus.
"She'll run for
her life, not kick up a fuss."
* * *
"The would be victim's quite rich too, they
say.
I could make out like a bandit today.
Get paid to spare her, and
then rescue instead.
And 'cause of my looks, get to take her to
bed!"
***
Each assassin was certain of how things would
go.
If asked, they would each have answered, "I know."
But neither
expected to meet with his match
In the place they had chosen their target's
dispatch.
"Get out, or I'll kill you," said Slade with a
scowl.
"Get out or I'll kill you," Wade snapped in a growl.
"Is there an echo in here?" Wade wondered
aloud.
"No, but one killer's company, and two is a crowd."
"You're here to wipe out the kid on the
stage?"
"I'll shoot through her head and stave in her rib cage."
Wade stuck out his tongue. "Ew, man, that's
vile."
Slade rolled his eyes, "Yeah, but it has style."
"This much is true, I'd have to admit.
"But
it can't be that simple. I'll play you for it!
"Rock, paper, scissors, or
quick game of chess?"
"It's tempting, that last one, I must
confess."
Slade shook his head. "But it'll take too long."
"We only have
'til the end of the song
"That's playing on stage, it's her last
encore.
"And then she comes in, through her dressing room door."
"I'm cutting you slack as it is, fashion
lad.
"Wade Wilson's got professional respect to be had."
"Wade Wilson's
your name? It's your name, you are saying?
"Well, Slade Wilson's mine, and
you'd best commence praying."
"Hey, nobody bites off my name and
survives!
"This is like something from Days of Our Lives...
"Perhaps
we're related, by blood to another,"
"Why, Gadzooks and Egad, does this
make you my *mother*?"
Slade expected a punch or a kick or a
drug.
What he wasn't expecting was Wade Wilson's hug.
They fell to the
floor, Wade fighting back tears...
when in walked the target...Brittany
Spears!
"I've never seen fans like you two
before,"
said the bimboesque singer who stood in the door.
"You're
pretty good too, to get in past my guards.
"How's a picture, an autograph,
and my regards?"
"Sorry, we're here not for autographs,
"Nor
pictures, nor CDs, nor jobs on your staff."
"Yep, Mom's got it right, you'd best run in
fear.
"Mom and me are paid to kill you, Brittany Spears!"
"Eek!" screamed the idol, and took to her
heels.
"The chase is on! She made no appeal!"
Wade leapt after her, then
turned to call back,
"Hey Mom, split the fee, if I stab her in the
back!"
Slade sighed and he took to the rafters
instead.
Swung his old form high over Wade's head.
"To think that this
one could be mine," he did grieve.
"At least he's not Addie's -- she'll be
so relieved."
The teen idol ran, and got held by the
crowd.
Slade stopped and watched, but Deadpool got loud.
"Make way for
Thom Cruz, this girl is my date!
"Don't worry, kids, I won't keep her out
late."
The crowd parted easily for the two
"stars"
And Slade rode with them atop Brittany's car.
"I'll kill them
both with one quick flat.
"They'll die in the crash, and that will be
that."
A wad of C-4 and a hole in the tire,
then
Deathstroke 'ported away to retire.
The car went KABOOM! on the way to LA,
and
fell into the sea, where the wreckage still stays.
Slade Wilson returned to his home the next
morning,
and read in the papers of much teenage mourning.
But to his
surprise, there were just two bodies found.
The singer's, her driver's, but
no one else drowned.
"Could he have escaped, and survived to
return?"
"Mom, I've survived being beaten and burned."
Slade turned
tosee Wade with a bouquet of flowers.
"Why so surprised? I found you in
hours."
"You must be a son of mine, after all.
"Only
a Wilson could such fate befall,
"And still come back later to vex and
annoy.
"You must be my son! So come to me, my boy!"
Wade went to Slade and they shared an
embrace.
Father and son went and bought their own place.
They hung out a
shingle, blue, orange, black red...
Deadpool & Deathstroke, the best of
the best.
No job too small, we'll destroy any pest.
(What, you were expecting a sad ending?)
THE END
*whew*