Back to GatefoldIssue #2 by Drew Clark
|
"Hey man, cut to the picture of the universe. Yeah, that one. Put it on the screen behind me. If I'm going to talk to these stupid readers, it needs to be dramatic. Ok, I'm ready. Three, two, one. No, that's not the official count, idiot. That was the practice count. Here goes the real thing. Three, two..."
A tall man with a long black beard sits on a chair in the middle of a large room. The chair is large, almost like a throne, but the man nearly dwarfs it with his magnificence. He is speaking to a cameraman standing behind a state-of-the-art camcorder about twenty feet away, readying himself for what seems to be a television broadcast. He coughs and then begins talking again.
"Hello, readers, and welcome to the second issue of Wade Wilson: DEADPOOL. Odds are, you're all wondering who I am and why Deadpool died at the end of last issue. Well, some of your questions are going to be answered, but a lot of the other ones will be brought up. You get the point. Let's start at the beginning."
Suddenly, the camera pans upwards to the picture of the universe that is projected onto the screen behind the large man and his throne. The man chuckles with excitement.
"Reader, this is the universe. It's basically filled up with a bunch of tiny little dots. A whole lot of them. One dot is about ten thousand planets. One-thousandth of of a dot? Yeah, good guess. That would be Earth, right there."
The camera focuses on a single dot, then quickly pans back out and goes down until it is shows only the man's head. He grins.
"Me? I'm the one who makes sure that none of those dots disappear. My name is George."
George smiles at the camera again, and then he gets up from his chair. The camera follows him.
"Alright, that answers your first question. The second, however, isn't as easy to answer. In other words, it's pretty damn complicated. Take a look at this television screen, and I'll explain as best I can."
A picture of a man dressed in red and black spandex appears on the TV.
"This is Deadpool, but not your Deadpool. This is a man posessed by the demons which haunt him every day, driven to a life of bringing about the chaos in order to balance his surroundings with his mind." George says emotionlessly. "As a matter of fact, this just might be your Deadpool. You never do know these days, what with the omni-universal switcheroo that's going on."
A look of sly wit covers George's face.
"You didn't know about that, eh? Ahhh.. come with me."
George leads the camera back to his throne, where he takes a seat. He rolls his eyes, thinking, and then proceeds to get comfortable as this will most likely be a long process of explanation. He coughs.
"You see, there has been a bit of a fuss over this Deadpool character in the past few months. The Mithras Directive was a disaster, Tiamat.. Captain America.."
He pauses and strokes his beard.
"Well, you read the books. You know what happened. At any rate, Deadpool is not the universe's favorite person. It seems as if there are forces out there, beyond you and me, that are determined to see Wade Wilson virtually wiped out of existence. By taking what I know about the complicated matrix that composes all time and space and adding what you all saw in issue number one, I have come to a conclusion."
For added effect, George stops again to stroke his long black beard. He coughs again.
"Someone out there is stealing Deadpools. It sounds ridiculous, but that is in essence what is happening. A greater power in the universe has found it necessary to take a Deadpool from one timestream.. literally snatching him from whatever he might be doing at the time.. and trade him with another Deadpool from another place and time, taking extra joy in placing him in a dangerous situation. Most of the time, these 'switched' Wade Wilsons are left dazed and confused, making them easy prey for whatever enemy they might be battling at the time. You see.. this incredibly powerful being is trying his hardest to kill every Deadpool everywhere without getting his hands dirty."
George shrugs his shoulders.
"See, I told you it was complicated."
# # # # #
Meanwhile, back on Earth.. whichever Earth it might be.. we join a certain Merc-With-a-Mouth in the midst of battling a horde of gunmen in an old warehouse. He seems to be winning, judging by the number of dead bodies on the floor, none them being his. Deadpool leaps behind a pile of old boxes, narrowly followed by a steady stream of machine gun bullets. When the bullets stop, Deadpool pokes his head up.
"You guys done yet? I have a five o' clock appointment on the corner of Fifth and Main with a man who doesn't want his wife and kids to die. I'd hate to keep the poor slop waiting.."
His only response is another healthy dose of machine gun fire that comes even closer to hitting him this time. Deadpool ducks in the proverbial nick of time, while the man with the machine gun orders his two bodyguards to advance on the stack of boxes.
"You wants us ta kill him, boss? I likes killin' little mens in pajamas..."
Suddenly, Deadpool leaps out of behind the boxes, slamming into the bodyguard and knocking them both to the ground. Deadpool gets to his feet first and begins running towards the door, yelling a few words about why spandex is actually considered by experts as more of a hosiery-family member rather than a pajama-family one. He reaches the door and dives outside, leaving the sight range of the gunmen.
"Gets 'im!"
The man with the machine gun shouts, running towards the door. However, he doesn't get more than a few steps before he sees Deadpool walk right back through the doorway. The machine gunman shouts.
"Are you nuts, boy? Why'dja come back?"
Deadpool nonchalantly rubs his head and sits down on a pile of boxes. After hearing the gunman's question, he looks up.
"Look buddy, I don't know who you are or where I am, but I just need ya to tone down the stereo surround sound for a sec. I got a pulsin' headache.. feelin' like Roseanne is sittin' on my medula oblongata..."
The two bodyguards walk to their boss' side and shrug their shoulders.
"What's he doin', Jimmy?"
"Yeah, ain't he s'posed t'be runnin' away?"
The man with the machine gun aims at Deadpool, who is not even looking at him anymore. He seems to be staring into space somewhere, mumbling something about poodles.
"I don't know, but hey.. dis is better than chasin' him down, right?"
Jimmy pulls the trigger and holds it down, filling the unexpecting Deadpool full of bullets. If lead were aluminum siding, Wade Wilson's body would have enough to build house or two. He slides off the box, weighed down by the added metal within his inner cavity.
Deadpool is dead again.
Next Issue: Hey, Deadpool has died twice! Can George be telling the truth? Who is kidnapping our favorite pajama-wearing mercenaries and sending them to their deaths? Catch Wade Wilson: Deadpool #3, promised to be 100% gorilla-free!
A tall man with a long black beard sits on a chair in the middle of a large room. The chair is large, almost like a throne, but the man nearly dwarfs it with his magnificence. He is speaking to a cameraman standing behind a state-of-the-art camcorder about twenty feet away, readying himself for what seems to be a television broadcast. He coughs and then begins talking again.
"Hello, readers, and welcome to the second issue of Wade Wilson: DEADPOOL. Odds are, you're all wondering who I am and why Deadpool died at the end of last issue. Well, some of your questions are going to be answered, but a lot of the other ones will be brought up. You get the point. Let's start at the beginning."
Suddenly, the camera pans upwards to the picture of the universe that is projected onto the screen behind the large man and his throne. The man chuckles with excitement.
"Reader, this is the universe. It's basically filled up with a bunch of tiny little dots. A whole lot of them. One dot is about ten thousand planets. One-thousandth of of a dot? Yeah, good guess. That would be Earth, right there."
The camera focuses on a single dot, then quickly pans back out and goes down until it is shows only the man's head. He grins.
"Me? I'm the one who makes sure that none of those dots disappear. My name is George."
George smiles at the camera again, and then he gets up from his chair. The camera follows him.
"Alright, that answers your first question. The second, however, isn't as easy to answer. In other words, it's pretty damn complicated. Take a look at this television screen, and I'll explain as best I can."
A picture of a man dressed in red and black spandex appears on the TV.
"This is Deadpool, but not your Deadpool. This is a man posessed by the demons which haunt him every day, driven to a life of bringing about the chaos in order to balance his surroundings with his mind." George says emotionlessly. "As a matter of fact, this just might be your Deadpool. You never do know these days, what with the omni-universal switcheroo that's going on."
A look of sly wit covers George's face.
"You didn't know about that, eh? Ahhh.. come with me."
George leads the camera back to his throne, where he takes a seat. He rolls his eyes, thinking, and then proceeds to get comfortable as this will most likely be a long process of explanation. He coughs.
"You see, there has been a bit of a fuss over this Deadpool character in the past few months. The Mithras Directive was a disaster, Tiamat.. Captain America.."
He pauses and strokes his beard.
"Well, you read the books. You know what happened. At any rate, Deadpool is not the universe's favorite person. It seems as if there are forces out there, beyond you and me, that are determined to see Wade Wilson virtually wiped out of existence. By taking what I know about the complicated matrix that composes all time and space and adding what you all saw in issue number one, I have come to a conclusion."
For added effect, George stops again to stroke his long black beard. He coughs again.
"Someone out there is stealing Deadpools. It sounds ridiculous, but that is in essence what is happening. A greater power in the universe has found it necessary to take a Deadpool from one timestream.. literally snatching him from whatever he might be doing at the time.. and trade him with another Deadpool from another place and time, taking extra joy in placing him in a dangerous situation. Most of the time, these 'switched' Wade Wilsons are left dazed and confused, making them easy prey for whatever enemy they might be battling at the time. You see.. this incredibly powerful being is trying his hardest to kill every Deadpool everywhere without getting his hands dirty."
George shrugs his shoulders.
"See, I told you it was complicated."
# # # # #
Meanwhile, back on Earth.. whichever Earth it might be.. we join a certain Merc-With-a-Mouth in the midst of battling a horde of gunmen in an old warehouse. He seems to be winning, judging by the number of dead bodies on the floor, none them being his. Deadpool leaps behind a pile of old boxes, narrowly followed by a steady stream of machine gun bullets. When the bullets stop, Deadpool pokes his head up.
"You guys done yet? I have a five o' clock appointment on the corner of Fifth and Main with a man who doesn't want his wife and kids to die. I'd hate to keep the poor slop waiting.."
His only response is another healthy dose of machine gun fire that comes even closer to hitting him this time. Deadpool ducks in the proverbial nick of time, while the man with the machine gun orders his two bodyguards to advance on the stack of boxes.
"You wants us ta kill him, boss? I likes killin' little mens in pajamas..."
Suddenly, Deadpool leaps out of behind the boxes, slamming into the bodyguard and knocking them both to the ground. Deadpool gets to his feet first and begins running towards the door, yelling a few words about why spandex is actually considered by experts as more of a hosiery-family member rather than a pajama-family one. He reaches the door and dives outside, leaving the sight range of the gunmen.
"Gets 'im!"
The man with the machine gun shouts, running towards the door. However, he doesn't get more than a few steps before he sees Deadpool walk right back through the doorway. The machine gunman shouts.
"Are you nuts, boy? Why'dja come back?"
Deadpool nonchalantly rubs his head and sits down on a pile of boxes. After hearing the gunman's question, he looks up.
"Look buddy, I don't know who you are or where I am, but I just need ya to tone down the stereo surround sound for a sec. I got a pulsin' headache.. feelin' like Roseanne is sittin' on my medula oblongata..."
The two bodyguards walk to their boss' side and shrug their shoulders.
"What's he doin', Jimmy?"
"Yeah, ain't he s'posed t'be runnin' away?"
The man with the machine gun aims at Deadpool, who is not even looking at him anymore. He seems to be staring into space somewhere, mumbling something about poodles.
"I don't know, but hey.. dis is better than chasin' him down, right?"
Jimmy pulls the trigger and holds it down, filling the unexpecting Deadpool full of bullets. If lead were aluminum siding, Wade Wilson's body would have enough to build house or two. He slides off the box, weighed down by the added metal within his inner cavity.
Deadpool is dead again.
Next Issue: Hey, Deadpool has died twice! Can George be telling the truth? Who is kidnapping our favorite pajama-wearing mercenaries and sending them to their deaths? Catch Wade Wilson: Deadpool #3, promised to be 100% gorilla-free!