Back to GatefoldIssue #5 by Darryl Philips
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D6 leaped through the air, barely avoiding the sonic blasts from Deathpool's wrists. The symbiote reacted automatically, lashing out at the devices with thick tendrils.
Meanwhile, D9 was busy dodging Tartan's freeze ray and running his mouth. "Y'know, I could really use that thing. How much you want for it?"
"Shut up and DIE!" Tartan screamed.
"Okay, okay, but five figures is as high as I go! Say...$20,000?"
"DIE! DIE!!!"
"Oh, fine! $50,000 is my final offer, take it or leave it!"
"Stop trying to cut a deal and fight him!" D6 shouted as he wrestled with Deathpool.
D9 sighed in frustration. "Listen, pal. I gotta make a living. I don't know what you demon-possessed fellas do, and I'm almost sure I don't wanna know. But me, I'm a salesman. And since you NEVER paid for that Symbiote you're wearing, I suggest you shut your freeloading pie-hole!"
Tartan threw the freeze ray and pulled out a flame-thrower. "FRY, MERC! HA HA HA!" He pulled the trigger, only to watch in confusion as nothing happened. "HUH?!"
D9 shook his head. "See, you've got one of the old ones that has to be lit." He struck a match and pressed it against the end of the barrel. "There you go! Now, if you came to me, I could hook you up with one that takes out whole city blocks in a second."
Tartan laughed again and pulled the trigger, but the flame went out. "WHAT?!"
"This model's Colombian, isn't it? Those damn coffee-guzzlers can stay awake ALL night, and they can't even make a decent flame-thrower. Now if you had gotten this from me, I'd go down there and murder all those bums. But anyway, the new model's got a handy 'rapid fire' feature. You'd be a hit at all the cookouts!"
"DEADPOOL!" D6 yelled, doing his best to choke Deathpool. "Finish him or I'll finish you myself!"
"Oh, fine. If you're gonna be such a drag." D9 turned to Tartan, "Sorry, bud. Nothing personal, y'know." Before Tartan could react, Deadpool shot him between the eyes. Then, of course, he searched the madman's pockets for money. "Eight bucks?! They guy tries to take out my whole species and all he's carrying is EIGHT BUCKS?!" He sighed, "Ah, well. Might as well help this other guy."
He calmly approached D6, who was ripping organs out of Deathpool's chest. "Hey, man. You need help or something?"
D6 finally squeezed Deathpool's heart in his hand. "If I wasn't so tired, I'd rip out your brain and eat it."
D9 frowned. "That's the problem with all you Symbiote junkies. You're always eating brains or rats or something disgusting. That reminds me ... did you find a can of Spam in there?"
D6 slowly stood up, "This isn't over. Tartan always had a back-up plan."
# # # # #
George checked his readings. If his computer was right, Tartan & Deathpool had been defeated. But Tartan had gone down way too easy ... which meant that there was something very wrong.
"This can't be right," he muttered, stroking his beard, "I sensed a cosmic force trying to kill the Deadpools. So if it wasn't Tartan ... then who was it?"
# # # # #
D9 groaned, "Okay. We killed the baddies. Why are we still here?"
D6 looked around the throne room one last time, "There's got to be something we're missing. What haven't we checked yet?"
"Well, we haven't tried that hidden door over there," D9 said, pointing at a door directly behind Tartan's throne, half covered in moss.
D6 tried to control his temper, "How long have you know that was there?"
"Oh. Well, when we first came in--"
"YOU INCREDIBLE IDIOT!" D6 shouted, tackling him, "We've been here for three hours, and you never said anything?!"
"You didn't ask me nicely," D9 replied.
Before D6 could think of a way to murder his partner, there was a loud creak. Both Deadpools turned to see the large door opening slowly.
For a moment, nothing moved. Then something large and yellow appeared at the door.
"If that's the giant chicken from my nightmares, I'm shooting myself," D9 swore.
Fortunately, (or maybe not) it wasn't a chicken. It was a huge smiley face with the smile turned upside down. Then again, anyone would frown if they had all kinds of weapons stuck in their face. Swords, axes, spears, cannons, and daggers seemed to protrude from every square inch of the face.
"Y'know, I'm really starting to wish it was the chicken."
D6 looked at the other Deadpool. "I'm starting to wish I had killed you earlier." A sword then flew past his head, taking part of his mask with it.
"Okay," D9 said slowly, "how do we kill that thing?"
"This is probably the dumbest thing either of us has ever heard," D6 replied, "but maybe we have to turn that frown upside down."
"And how do we do that?" D9 asked. "Tickle it?"
"Maybe we have to get all the weapons out."
"Yup. I really miss the chicken now."
# # # # #
George could hardly believe his eyes. Since when was a smiley face the size of Delaware a mysterious cosmic force? He decided that he didn't know or care just then.
"Those two better be careful. There's got to be more to that face than meets the eye ... or it's eye ... or something."
# # # # #
"Tell me again why it's still frowning?" D9 asked, "We took all the weapons out."
D6 sighed heavily, "Maybe we DO have to tickle it."
"I'd rather eat the chick--"
"SHUT UP ABOUT THE CHICKEN!!!"
Suddenly, without warning, the smiley face started to roll. Of course, the two Deadpools were too busy arguing to notice that.
"You MORON!"
"Party pooper!"
"Irresponsible maniac!"
"Jerk-face!"
"Useless fool!"
"...Punk!"
"Worthless dog!"
"...PUNK!"
"ARRRGH! I'm going to kill you!" D6 leaped at D9, planning to strangle him with the symbiote's extra arms. However, before he could, there was a loud crunching noise.
"Eeeeeeewwwwww!" D9 shouted as the smiley face rolled right over his partner, crushing him completely.
The smiley face continued on its path of destruction, taking out most of the wall and the rest of the castle.
# # # # #
George stared at his readings, "Hmm. That means Symbiote Salesman is the last existing Wade Wilson."
He stroked his beard and sighed, "Well, at least there's less to teleport." George tapped a button on the console, and D9 appeared beside him, covered in blood and mud.
"Y'know, that was fun. Except for the part where everyone died. Hey, can I interest you in a slightly used Symbiote?"
George shook his head, "You're the last Wade Wilson. Doesn't that mean anything?"
"Yeah, no competition. HA! Now I'm the number one merc! YEAH, BABY!"
George sighed and turned away as Deadpool started moonwalking across the space station. "You should take this more seriously. If you die, time could be upset forever! As strange as it sounds, this universe needs at least one Wade Wilson."
Deadpool stopped dancing and stared at the cosmic guardian, "You're not related to Boy George, are you? 'Cause neither of you are much fun to be around. At least he's easier to insult. You're just a weird guy with a beard."
Deadpool started dancing again, totally ignoring George's comments. Suddenly, the merc's left arm flew across the room and slammed into the wall. Of course, since it was totally made up of water by the time it hit, there wasn't much damage.
George looked down to see that Deadpool was standing in a puddle. "So that's where I spilled the ice," he muttered. But then, the truth dawned on him.
"Hey, is it me, or did my arm turn into water and fly off?" Deadpool asked slowly.
George pulled a small device out of his beard and waved it in front of Deadpool's chest. "Computer, identify."
The device buzzed. "Searching data banks ... matches found. Wade Wilson. Designate: Deadpool. Sub-designate: Molecule Man."
"Huh?" Deadpool asked. "Molecule WHO?"
"Molecule YOU," George replied. "You're the Molecule Man!"
Deadpool stared at him. Any other person might have fainted. However, this WAS Wade Wilson. "COOL! Now I've got another cool story to tell! I'll be just like that chick in American Pie! Instead of, 'One time, at band camp...,' it'll be, 'One time, on George's space station ... I BECAME THE MOLECULE MAN!!!' YEAH, BABY!" Deadpool spun around and launched into his Michael Jackson impression.
George shook his head. "The last Wade Wilson ... the true Deadpool ... is the Molecule Man?" A shudder went through his body, "We're all doomed!!!"
Deadpool wasn't listening, though. He was too busy grabbing himself. "Woo-Hoo!! Back off, Tito! This is MY solo! Get in the back where you belong, Jermaine! LaToya, you're adopted! You're really the love child of Hugh Heffner and Grace Jones!"
END
Meanwhile, D9 was busy dodging Tartan's freeze ray and running his mouth. "Y'know, I could really use that thing. How much you want for it?"
"Shut up and DIE!" Tartan screamed.
"Okay, okay, but five figures is as high as I go! Say...$20,000?"
"DIE! DIE!!!"
"Oh, fine! $50,000 is my final offer, take it or leave it!"
"Stop trying to cut a deal and fight him!" D6 shouted as he wrestled with Deathpool.
D9 sighed in frustration. "Listen, pal. I gotta make a living. I don't know what you demon-possessed fellas do, and I'm almost sure I don't wanna know. But me, I'm a salesman. And since you NEVER paid for that Symbiote you're wearing, I suggest you shut your freeloading pie-hole!"
Tartan threw the freeze ray and pulled out a flame-thrower. "FRY, MERC! HA HA HA!" He pulled the trigger, only to watch in confusion as nothing happened. "HUH?!"
D9 shook his head. "See, you've got one of the old ones that has to be lit." He struck a match and pressed it against the end of the barrel. "There you go! Now, if you came to me, I could hook you up with one that takes out whole city blocks in a second."
Tartan laughed again and pulled the trigger, but the flame went out. "WHAT?!"
"This model's Colombian, isn't it? Those damn coffee-guzzlers can stay awake ALL night, and they can't even make a decent flame-thrower. Now if you had gotten this from me, I'd go down there and murder all those bums. But anyway, the new model's got a handy 'rapid fire' feature. You'd be a hit at all the cookouts!"
"DEADPOOL!" D6 yelled, doing his best to choke Deathpool. "Finish him or I'll finish you myself!"
"Oh, fine. If you're gonna be such a drag." D9 turned to Tartan, "Sorry, bud. Nothing personal, y'know." Before Tartan could react, Deadpool shot him between the eyes. Then, of course, he searched the madman's pockets for money. "Eight bucks?! They guy tries to take out my whole species and all he's carrying is EIGHT BUCKS?!" He sighed, "Ah, well. Might as well help this other guy."
He calmly approached D6, who was ripping organs out of Deathpool's chest. "Hey, man. You need help or something?"
D6 finally squeezed Deathpool's heart in his hand. "If I wasn't so tired, I'd rip out your brain and eat it."
D9 frowned. "That's the problem with all you Symbiote junkies. You're always eating brains or rats or something disgusting. That reminds me ... did you find a can of Spam in there?"
D6 slowly stood up, "This isn't over. Tartan always had a back-up plan."
# # # # #
George checked his readings. If his computer was right, Tartan & Deathpool had been defeated. But Tartan had gone down way too easy ... which meant that there was something very wrong.
"This can't be right," he muttered, stroking his beard, "I sensed a cosmic force trying to kill the Deadpools. So if it wasn't Tartan ... then who was it?"
# # # # #
D9 groaned, "Okay. We killed the baddies. Why are we still here?"
D6 looked around the throne room one last time, "There's got to be something we're missing. What haven't we checked yet?"
"Well, we haven't tried that hidden door over there," D9 said, pointing at a door directly behind Tartan's throne, half covered in moss.
D6 tried to control his temper, "How long have you know that was there?"
"Oh. Well, when we first came in--"
"YOU INCREDIBLE IDIOT!" D6 shouted, tackling him, "We've been here for three hours, and you never said anything?!"
"You didn't ask me nicely," D9 replied.
Before D6 could think of a way to murder his partner, there was a loud creak. Both Deadpools turned to see the large door opening slowly.
For a moment, nothing moved. Then something large and yellow appeared at the door.
"If that's the giant chicken from my nightmares, I'm shooting myself," D9 swore.
Fortunately, (or maybe not) it wasn't a chicken. It was a huge smiley face with the smile turned upside down. Then again, anyone would frown if they had all kinds of weapons stuck in their face. Swords, axes, spears, cannons, and daggers seemed to protrude from every square inch of the face.
"Y'know, I'm really starting to wish it was the chicken."
D6 looked at the other Deadpool. "I'm starting to wish I had killed you earlier." A sword then flew past his head, taking part of his mask with it.
"Okay," D9 said slowly, "how do we kill that thing?"
"This is probably the dumbest thing either of us has ever heard," D6 replied, "but maybe we have to turn that frown upside down."
"And how do we do that?" D9 asked. "Tickle it?"
"Maybe we have to get all the weapons out."
"Yup. I really miss the chicken now."
# # # # #
George could hardly believe his eyes. Since when was a smiley face the size of Delaware a mysterious cosmic force? He decided that he didn't know or care just then.
"Those two better be careful. There's got to be more to that face than meets the eye ... or it's eye ... or something."
# # # # #
"Tell me again why it's still frowning?" D9 asked, "We took all the weapons out."
D6 sighed heavily, "Maybe we DO have to tickle it."
"I'd rather eat the chick--"
"SHUT UP ABOUT THE CHICKEN!!!"
Suddenly, without warning, the smiley face started to roll. Of course, the two Deadpools were too busy arguing to notice that.
"You MORON!"
"Party pooper!"
"Irresponsible maniac!"
"Jerk-face!"
"Useless fool!"
"...Punk!"
"Worthless dog!"
"...PUNK!"
"ARRRGH! I'm going to kill you!" D6 leaped at D9, planning to strangle him with the symbiote's extra arms. However, before he could, there was a loud crunching noise.
"Eeeeeeewwwwww!" D9 shouted as the smiley face rolled right over his partner, crushing him completely.
The smiley face continued on its path of destruction, taking out most of the wall and the rest of the castle.
# # # # #
George stared at his readings, "Hmm. That means Symbiote Salesman is the last existing Wade Wilson."
He stroked his beard and sighed, "Well, at least there's less to teleport." George tapped a button on the console, and D9 appeared beside him, covered in blood and mud.
"Y'know, that was fun. Except for the part where everyone died. Hey, can I interest you in a slightly used Symbiote?"
George shook his head, "You're the last Wade Wilson. Doesn't that mean anything?"
"Yeah, no competition. HA! Now I'm the number one merc! YEAH, BABY!"
George sighed and turned away as Deadpool started moonwalking across the space station. "You should take this more seriously. If you die, time could be upset forever! As strange as it sounds, this universe needs at least one Wade Wilson."
Deadpool stopped dancing and stared at the cosmic guardian, "You're not related to Boy George, are you? 'Cause neither of you are much fun to be around. At least he's easier to insult. You're just a weird guy with a beard."
Deadpool started dancing again, totally ignoring George's comments. Suddenly, the merc's left arm flew across the room and slammed into the wall. Of course, since it was totally made up of water by the time it hit, there wasn't much damage.
George looked down to see that Deadpool was standing in a puddle. "So that's where I spilled the ice," he muttered. But then, the truth dawned on him.
"Hey, is it me, or did my arm turn into water and fly off?" Deadpool asked slowly.
George pulled a small device out of his beard and waved it in front of Deadpool's chest. "Computer, identify."
The device buzzed. "Searching data banks ... matches found. Wade Wilson. Designate: Deadpool. Sub-designate: Molecule Man."
"Huh?" Deadpool asked. "Molecule WHO?"
"Molecule YOU," George replied. "You're the Molecule Man!"
Deadpool stared at him. Any other person might have fainted. However, this WAS Wade Wilson. "COOL! Now I've got another cool story to tell! I'll be just like that chick in American Pie! Instead of, 'One time, at band camp...,' it'll be, 'One time, on George's space station ... I BECAME THE MOLECULE MAN!!!' YEAH, BABY!" Deadpool spun around and launched into his Michael Jackson impression.
George shook his head. "The last Wade Wilson ... the true Deadpool ... is the Molecule Man?" A shudder went through his body, "We're all doomed!!!"
Deadpool wasn't listening, though. He was too busy grabbing himself. "Woo-Hoo!! Back off, Tito! This is MY solo! Get in the back where you belong, Jermaine! LaToya, you're adopted! You're really the love child of Hugh Heffner and Grace Jones!"
END