Back to GatefoldIssue #1 by Liam Goncet
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A single light shined in on the dark and cluttered living room, emanating from a television onto the nearby couch and onto the face of one Jack Hammer, formerly known as Weasel. He sighed and pushed the glasses on his face up as a voice on the television began to speak.
“Don’t you see, Greg,” the voice spoke in a southern drawl, “it’s not those zombies out there; it’s us. We’re the real meandering undead.” The sound of a toilet flushing could be heard from the other room as music began to swell up and the credits started rolling.
“Dammit, did I miss anything good?” another man asked as he entered the room. The man in question was short with a very distinct appearance, long, pointed ears, bald head and a pair of abnormally large eyes that seemed to lack eyelids.
“Nothing exciting, Peepers, just another speech about how humans are the real monsters or some shit.” Weasel said, boredom palpable in his voice.
“Didn’t they do something like that a couple weeks ago?” Peepers inquired, sitting down on the couch next to Weasel.
“Yeah, but this time the whole group heard it. It’s been three seasons and they’re still on this farm, when do we get to stop watching?”
“Don’t you want to know if they make it off?”
Silence filled the air before Weasel let out another sigh and got up from the couch. “Right then, I’m going to bed.”
“But Jack, they’re gonna show a preview for the new season of Better Dial Kyle.”
“I’ll catch it online tomorrow, I’m just really tired, Peepers.” Weasel said, heading into a nearby room and shutting the door.
The room was dark save for the stray bits of moonlight that came in from the nearby window. Weasel made his way over to the bed and sat on the side of it for a moment, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. He placed the glasses on the night stand next to him and removed the blanket from the top of his bed and climbed under it.
It was then that he began to feel something beside him, someone perhaps, moving and fidgeting around under the covers. Weasel turned to see what it could possibly be only to be found face to face with the familiar red and black mask of an old friend and occasional enemy.
“Let’s face the facts here, Weasel, we both knew that sooner or later we’d wind up in bed together.”
“Don’t you see, Greg,” the voice spoke in a southern drawl, “it’s not those zombies out there; it’s us. We’re the real meandering undead.” The sound of a toilet flushing could be heard from the other room as music began to swell up and the credits started rolling.
“Dammit, did I miss anything good?” another man asked as he entered the room. The man in question was short with a very distinct appearance, long, pointed ears, bald head and a pair of abnormally large eyes that seemed to lack eyelids.
“Nothing exciting, Peepers, just another speech about how humans are the real monsters or some shit.” Weasel said, boredom palpable in his voice.
“Didn’t they do something like that a couple weeks ago?” Peepers inquired, sitting down on the couch next to Weasel.
“Yeah, but this time the whole group heard it. It’s been three seasons and they’re still on this farm, when do we get to stop watching?”
“Don’t you want to know if they make it off?”
Silence filled the air before Weasel let out another sigh and got up from the couch. “Right then, I’m going to bed.”
“But Jack, they’re gonna show a preview for the new season of Better Dial Kyle.”
“I’ll catch it online tomorrow, I’m just really tired, Peepers.” Weasel said, heading into a nearby room and shutting the door.
The room was dark save for the stray bits of moonlight that came in from the nearby window. Weasel made his way over to the bed and sat on the side of it for a moment, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. He placed the glasses on the night stand next to him and removed the blanket from the top of his bed and climbed under it.
It was then that he began to feel something beside him, someone perhaps, moving and fidgeting around under the covers. Weasel turned to see what it could possibly be only to be found face to face with the familiar red and black mask of an old friend and occasional enemy.
“Let’s face the facts here, Weasel, we both knew that sooner or later we’d wind up in bed together.”
DEADPOOL #1
“Return of the Merc – Part One”
Written by Liam Goncet
Weasel let out a scream of surprise, it had been quite some time since he had seen his mercenary companion and to say his feelings on the man were complex would be putting it quite lightly.
“This bed is pretty comfy though, what is it, a Casper? Those guys will sponsor anything, they’d probably sponsor a fanfic if it had enough readers.”
Weasel jumped out of the bed in shock, “Wade…my bed…how” was all he could manage to say.
“Window…unlocked…I entered,” Deadpool said, turning over onto his back and staring at the ceiling. “You okay, Weaz, you seem a little bothered?”
“Wade, what are you doing here?”
Before Deadpool could answer the door swung open and Peepers ran in with a bat, swinging it aimlessly, “Alright, whoever you are, prepare to get your ass handed to you!”
Deadpool immediately jumped up from the bed and pointed one of his guns at the bat-wielding mutant, “Good god, what is that thing!? Is this monster holding you hostage, Weasel? I should have known, that’s why you were acting so weird about my casual break in.”
Peepers instinctively put his hands in the air upon seeing the gun but the look of horror on his face quickly turned into a smile. “Holy shit, you’re Deadpool! Woah, I’ve asked Jack about you a bunch of times but all he told me is that you guys ended on bad terms.”
“Jack? Is that what we’re going by now? Gotta look professional for all the investors in your little start-up company, eh?”
Weasel was quiet for a moment, taken aback by this sudden reveal of his recent activity. “What did you do, go to the library and research what I’ve been up to since we last saw each other?”
“Yeah, actually,” Deadpool held up a printed-out article with a headline that read “Promising start-up shuts down due to possible crime connections.”
“Yeah, I spent months thinking you were the reason anyone found out about my past only to discover that you put yourself in prison. What’d you do, get bored and break out?”
“I didn’t break out, I was let out…for good behavior. I’m one of the good guys now, Weaz!” The merc said, before turning his attention back to Peepers. “Seriously, though, what’s with this guy? Is he one of those folks that grew up under the power lines?”
“He’s my roommate, Wade. Why are you here? Need a place to lay low from the cops?”
“I told you, I didn’t break out.” Deadpool paused as he reached into the spandex pants of his outfit and pulled out a CD, handing it over to Weasel. “I came over here to give you this.”
Weasel inspected the CD before looking back up at Wade puzzled, “The Very Best of Hall & Oates? Wade, why would I give a shit about Hall & Oates?”
“Well, besides being one of the best soft rock acts of the late 70s and early 80s, you lent me that album and I never gave it back to you. So, there you go pal, we’re even.”
“Even!? You think giving me some shitty record I don’t even remember owning makes us even after everything you put me through?!”
“Hey, there are some classic tracks on that bad boy, ‘Rich Girl, ‘Maneater,’ you’ve got to love that one?”
Weasel seemed ready to boil over with anger before taking in a deep breath and calming himself down. “God, I have not missed this one bit.”
Deadpool chuckled and stepped off the bed, draping his arms around the two confused men in front of him, “great, now that that is settled let’s talk about me staying here for a bit. Don’t worry, I don’t need a bed, the couch will be good enough for me.” The merc made his way out of Weasel’s room, into the living area and sat himself down on the couch. “Yeah, this is about as cozy as my bed in the joint. That’s what they call it you know, ‘the joint.’ I thought that was just a thing they did in movies but no, they actually do it.”
Weasel and Peepers looked at each other for a moment, attempting to determine which one of them would be the one to tell him off. Weasel sighed before speaking up. “You can’t stay here, Wade.”
“Alright, take your time, I know these decisions can’t be arrived at easily so you guys decide and I’m gonna go out, grab a slice and maybe find something to fight.” Deadpool got off the couch and made his way to the door.
“Wade! Wade, did you hear- “Weasel was unable to finish his sentence before the door would close and Deadpool would once again be gone.
“So... that was pretty cool, right?” Peepers would ask as Weasel rolled his eyes and went back into his room.
# # # # # # # # # #
Tucked away in the corner of a desolate city street was a house that had clearly seen better days. The windows were all boarded, the door frame had been crudely made with old 2x4s and the door seemed to be hanging on one lone hinge. To most, this house was derelict, one of many throughout the city but for those in need of illicit substances this house had a reputation as one of the best places to get your fix, especially if that fix was mutant growth hormone, a drug that gave regular joes the opportunity to be super, just for a few hours.
Across from this house, sitting on the roof, feet dangling over the edge was Deadpool keeping a watch for anyone who was looking to enter the drug den. “Private eyes, they’re watching you, they see your every move,” he sang. “Man, screw Weasel, Hall & Oates are amazing.”
Before long, two burly men in wife beaters made their way up to the house, they both scanned the area before entering, the second man taking one more look around before he disappeared inside.
“What’s this, two burly men in wife beaters? Well, no self-respecting drug addict would look like that so that must mean they’re criminals.” Deadpool declared, a hint of glee in his voice. “Time for old Truth and Justice to do some work,” He motioned to his two pistols before he leapt off the ledge and rolled onto the street below. “And if these fools don’t cooperate I’ll just have to show them the American Way,” he said, pointing to the katanas on his back while strolling over to the house.
Inside the house, one of the burly men walked around the first floor, his gun drawn as he inspected the various rooms for anyone who might be hiding. “Seems like we’re all clear down here, anyone up there?” He shouted to his partner on the floor above him.
“One dead junkie but no one living,” the other man replied.
A loud squeak broke the silence in the house as the first man turned around to spy Deadpool, having just entered through the doorway.
“Well, this is embarrassing, I swear I’m usually better at this it’s just been a very long time, can we go again?” The mercenary quickly rolled out of the way of the bullet that placed itself in the nearby wall.
“Okay, I’ll give you that one, that was my fault but if you keep shooting me I’m going to have to use lethal force, you know, like Robocop.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” the man said before firing two more rounds in the intruder’s direction.
“Why do they always ask me that?” Deadpool sighed as he returned fire and hit the man’s leg, bringing him down to a knee. “Not even a little yelp? I mean I wasn’t expecting a Wilhelm scream or anything but Jesus, give me something, man.”
The man attempted another shot at Deadpool before he took a bullet to the hand wielding his weapon. He held himself back from yelling out in pain and muttered, “Who the hell are you?”
“I am vengeance, I am the night, I am Deadpool!” he proclaimed as he knocked the gun away from the man’s reach. “Tell you what, since you finally gave me the opportunity to use that line, I’ll let you live as long as you tell me what I- “A bullet tore its way through Deadpool’s chest as he looked at the wound in surprise before turning around to face the second man. “Talk about fucking amateur hour, you couldn’t even hit my heart!?”
“Wha-how did- “was all he managed to say before a shot to the head ended his life.
“See, your friend was less lucky, now then, what exactly are you guys cooking up in this fun little trap house?”
“We sold MGH to folks, gave them a taste for it so that they could buy more powerful stuff from our boss.” The man said, panic in his voice over the sudden death of his partner.
“Your boss, who’s that?”
Loud footsteps could be heard approaching the house as a tall, muscle-bound man entered, crouching so that he could properly make it through the doorway. His upper body was enormous, pulsating with muscle and providing an imposing figure. His lower half seemed toned but much less bulky resulting in a man who looked quite top-heavy. The large man adjusted his red bottle-cap lenses as he spoke. “I gotta be honest, this was not what I expected when I came in here. Did I get the right house?”
Deadpool looked to the man in confusion, “bigger and burlier, huh? You must be the boss!” He drew both of his guns and pointed them at the massive man.
“Hey, you’re Deadpool, right?” The man chuckled, raising his hands to show he meant no harm. “Sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong man, I’m Strong Guy.”
“Strong Guy? What did you come up with that name in elementary school?”
“Uh…I actually didn’t choose the name, people just sort of started calling me that.” Strong Guy sheepishly replied, scratching the back of his head.
“Well, if you aren’t the boss who is, better yet, why are you here!?” Deadpool kept his guns trained on the big man in front of him, ignoring the thug he had been threatening and allowing the man to go to reach for his dead ally’s gun.
“I’m here with a friend, we’re…er…he’s a private eye.”
“A detective? Well, I love a good team-up! Let me fill ya in,” Deadpool exclaimed. “This guy over here shot me, so I shot him back, self-defense, it’s a real law look it up.” He said, motioning to the body next to him. “As for the other guy, he’s apparently here because of his boss, they’re getting people hooked on MGH, also where did he go?”
“Eat shit, both of yo- “the man said, preparing to fire his gun at Strong Guy before he was kicked in the face by another new entrant.
The man in question had short black hair and wore a trench coat, under which was a green shirt with an odd pattern on it, six circles connected to one another like branches on a tree. Before the others had time to fully understand the situation however another man entered, one who looked exactly like the previous man. A finger snapped and a brief glow enveloped the new man as the clone was absorbed back into his body.
“Hey, I remember you! You’re the multiple guy! Madrix? Don’t you usually have a lameass costume?” Deadpool inquired.
“Madrox and yeah, I ditched it, doesn’t fit my current career path.” The Multiple Man looked over to his partner, “what’s he doing here?”
Strong Guy shrugged and laughed a little, “he was here when I came in, apparently, he’s investigating too.”
“Does that investigation include the guy whose brains are on the floor?” Madrox asked, motioning to the body next to Deadpool.
“Hey, like I told your buddy, he shot first, I just returned the favor. If it’s good for Han Solo it’s good for me!”
The private eye smirked before he stomped his foot on the ground, causing a double of him to appear. “Go check upstairs, make sure there’s nothing too interesting up there.” The double nodded and went on its way. “Alright, ‘Pool, what did you find out about this place and why are you here?”
“Woah, getting all private dick-ish on me all of the sudden. They’re getting addicts hooked on MGH here, these dummies are working for another guy who has a supply of it and I was just about to find out who that was until your friend lumbered onto the scene.”
Madrox looked over to Strong Guy, “Is that true, Guido, did you lumber?”
“No more than usual, boss,” he replied with a smile.
“Alright, you managed to actually gather some solid info for us so, I’ll fill you in on some details.” Madrox said, looking at various objects in the room as he spoke. “We were hired by the family of a young mutant girl who went missing over a week ago, name’s Layla Miller.” Madrox pulled out a photo of a blond-haired girl in an “Alice in Chains” t-shirt, wearing a blue skirt with red and black leggings. She was sticking her tongue out at whoever took the photo.
“Woah, kids still know who Alice in Chains are?” Deadpool sarcastically replied before Madrox swiped the photo out of his hand. “Hey, hey, just kidding, it looks like you guys need some help and I, being the hero of the people, would be happy to assist.”
Madrox and Strong Guy stared at one another, a mixture of worry and disbelief on their faces. Before the detective could speak up, however, his clone arrived at the top of the steps, calling down to the trio.
“We’ve got a body up here, cold, probably been dead for hours now, judging by the track marks I’m gonna guess overdose but we won’t know for sure until we do an autopsy.”
“Autopsy?” Guido asked.
“Don’t listen to him, that must be the part of me that’s seen too many police procedurals.” Madrox muttered before absorbing the nearby clone back into his body.
“Aww, guess the American Way will have to wait.” Deadpool whined before putting his, freshly unsheathed, katanas back in their holders.
“So, what do we do now? We know what these guys were up to but we don’t really have a lead,” Strong Guy inquired.
“We could wait for whoever this boss guy is to come looking for these guys but if Layla is still alive we can’t waste time,” Madrox replied, pacing as he tried to come up with a solution to their issue.
“Hey, I know just the guy who can help you out!” Deadpool exclaimed, ushering the others out the door.
# # # # # # # # # # #
Weasel stared up at the roof of his living room as the television played an infomercial for some new exercise DVD, “Toned Abs and Firm Buttocks.” Normally, he’d be interested in seeing just how firm these buttocks were but after the sudden return of Wade Wilson, mercenary and part-time destroyer of his life, Weasel couldn’t focus on much else. Why was Wade back now and why was he digging into his’ past. Perhaps, he really was trying to make things right. It wasn’t like Wade had a lot of friends to go to when he wanted to start over again. Before Weasel could think about the scenario in more detail a series of loud knocks came from the door.
“Weaz, open up, I need your help.” Deadpool shouted from behind the door as the knocks continued. “I need you to work your tech magic here and find a bad guy for me, come on, buddy.”
Weasel sighed as he got off the couch and opened the door. “Look Wade, I don’t want any- “He stopped upon seeing that Deadpool was not alone and briefly marveled at the sight of Strong Guy, who waved back at him.
“Yeah, I brought some friends, hope you don’t mind.” Deadpool said as he wandered into the apartment.
“Friends is a bit much but your pal here said you might be able to help us track down the guy running an MGH operation,” the Multiple Man explained as he made his way into the apartment.
“Er…” was all Weasel managed to say before staring back at Deadpool. “Wade…I haven’t really done this type of thing in a while.”
“Aw, come on Weaz, it’s like riding a bike, you never really forget.” Deadpool said, draping an arm around his friend much to Weasel’s discomfort. “It’s for a worthy cause.”
“Unless we interrupted some personal time,” Strong Guy gestured to the television, still displaying the infomercial.
“No,” Weasel quickly protested, “it’s just…I can do this for you but I need a few hours and some info.”
“That’s the spirit, I told you guys he’d help. You won’t regret this buddy!” Deadpool exclaimed as he rustled his partner’s hair.
“Too late for that,” Weasel muttered under his breath as he gestured for the group to follow him into his bedroom.
Before Deadpool could make it inside the room however the familiar chorus of “Maneater” began emanating from his spandex pants. “Uh...you guys get started without me, I’ll join in a second.” He nervously spoke, reaching into his pants and pulling out his phone.
“Should we be concerned by that?” Madrox asked Weasel as Deadpool made his way out of earshot of the group.
“Honestly, if you aren’t already concerned by him then you have some issues of your own to sort out.” The hacker replied, pushing up his glasses.
“Fair point.”
Deadpool made his way into the kitchen as he answered the phone, “world’s greatest mercenary and all around badass, Deadpool, speaking.”
“Ditch the private eye and his muscle, I’ve got an actual lead on the girl,” the voice on the other end said.
“I’m listening.”
To Be Continued…
“This bed is pretty comfy though, what is it, a Casper? Those guys will sponsor anything, they’d probably sponsor a fanfic if it had enough readers.”
Weasel jumped out of the bed in shock, “Wade…my bed…how” was all he could manage to say.
“Window…unlocked…I entered,” Deadpool said, turning over onto his back and staring at the ceiling. “You okay, Weaz, you seem a little bothered?”
“Wade, what are you doing here?”
Before Deadpool could answer the door swung open and Peepers ran in with a bat, swinging it aimlessly, “Alright, whoever you are, prepare to get your ass handed to you!”
Deadpool immediately jumped up from the bed and pointed one of his guns at the bat-wielding mutant, “Good god, what is that thing!? Is this monster holding you hostage, Weasel? I should have known, that’s why you were acting so weird about my casual break in.”
Peepers instinctively put his hands in the air upon seeing the gun but the look of horror on his face quickly turned into a smile. “Holy shit, you’re Deadpool! Woah, I’ve asked Jack about you a bunch of times but all he told me is that you guys ended on bad terms.”
“Jack? Is that what we’re going by now? Gotta look professional for all the investors in your little start-up company, eh?”
Weasel was quiet for a moment, taken aback by this sudden reveal of his recent activity. “What did you do, go to the library and research what I’ve been up to since we last saw each other?”
“Yeah, actually,” Deadpool held up a printed-out article with a headline that read “Promising start-up shuts down due to possible crime connections.”
“Yeah, I spent months thinking you were the reason anyone found out about my past only to discover that you put yourself in prison. What’d you do, get bored and break out?”
“I didn’t break out, I was let out…for good behavior. I’m one of the good guys now, Weaz!” The merc said, before turning his attention back to Peepers. “Seriously, though, what’s with this guy? Is he one of those folks that grew up under the power lines?”
“He’s my roommate, Wade. Why are you here? Need a place to lay low from the cops?”
“I told you, I didn’t break out.” Deadpool paused as he reached into the spandex pants of his outfit and pulled out a CD, handing it over to Weasel. “I came over here to give you this.”
Weasel inspected the CD before looking back up at Wade puzzled, “The Very Best of Hall & Oates? Wade, why would I give a shit about Hall & Oates?”
“Well, besides being one of the best soft rock acts of the late 70s and early 80s, you lent me that album and I never gave it back to you. So, there you go pal, we’re even.”
“Even!? You think giving me some shitty record I don’t even remember owning makes us even after everything you put me through?!”
“Hey, there are some classic tracks on that bad boy, ‘Rich Girl, ‘Maneater,’ you’ve got to love that one?”
Weasel seemed ready to boil over with anger before taking in a deep breath and calming himself down. “God, I have not missed this one bit.”
Deadpool chuckled and stepped off the bed, draping his arms around the two confused men in front of him, “great, now that that is settled let’s talk about me staying here for a bit. Don’t worry, I don’t need a bed, the couch will be good enough for me.” The merc made his way out of Weasel’s room, into the living area and sat himself down on the couch. “Yeah, this is about as cozy as my bed in the joint. That’s what they call it you know, ‘the joint.’ I thought that was just a thing they did in movies but no, they actually do it.”
Weasel and Peepers looked at each other for a moment, attempting to determine which one of them would be the one to tell him off. Weasel sighed before speaking up. “You can’t stay here, Wade.”
“Alright, take your time, I know these decisions can’t be arrived at easily so you guys decide and I’m gonna go out, grab a slice and maybe find something to fight.” Deadpool got off the couch and made his way to the door.
“Wade! Wade, did you hear- “Weasel was unable to finish his sentence before the door would close and Deadpool would once again be gone.
“So... that was pretty cool, right?” Peepers would ask as Weasel rolled his eyes and went back into his room.
# # # # # # # # # #
Tucked away in the corner of a desolate city street was a house that had clearly seen better days. The windows were all boarded, the door frame had been crudely made with old 2x4s and the door seemed to be hanging on one lone hinge. To most, this house was derelict, one of many throughout the city but for those in need of illicit substances this house had a reputation as one of the best places to get your fix, especially if that fix was mutant growth hormone, a drug that gave regular joes the opportunity to be super, just for a few hours.
Across from this house, sitting on the roof, feet dangling over the edge was Deadpool keeping a watch for anyone who was looking to enter the drug den. “Private eyes, they’re watching you, they see your every move,” he sang. “Man, screw Weasel, Hall & Oates are amazing.”
Before long, two burly men in wife beaters made their way up to the house, they both scanned the area before entering, the second man taking one more look around before he disappeared inside.
“What’s this, two burly men in wife beaters? Well, no self-respecting drug addict would look like that so that must mean they’re criminals.” Deadpool declared, a hint of glee in his voice. “Time for old Truth and Justice to do some work,” He motioned to his two pistols before he leapt off the ledge and rolled onto the street below. “And if these fools don’t cooperate I’ll just have to show them the American Way,” he said, pointing to the katanas on his back while strolling over to the house.
Inside the house, one of the burly men walked around the first floor, his gun drawn as he inspected the various rooms for anyone who might be hiding. “Seems like we’re all clear down here, anyone up there?” He shouted to his partner on the floor above him.
“One dead junkie but no one living,” the other man replied.
A loud squeak broke the silence in the house as the first man turned around to spy Deadpool, having just entered through the doorway.
“Well, this is embarrassing, I swear I’m usually better at this it’s just been a very long time, can we go again?” The mercenary quickly rolled out of the way of the bullet that placed itself in the nearby wall.
“Okay, I’ll give you that one, that was my fault but if you keep shooting me I’m going to have to use lethal force, you know, like Robocop.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” the man said before firing two more rounds in the intruder’s direction.
“Why do they always ask me that?” Deadpool sighed as he returned fire and hit the man’s leg, bringing him down to a knee. “Not even a little yelp? I mean I wasn’t expecting a Wilhelm scream or anything but Jesus, give me something, man.”
The man attempted another shot at Deadpool before he took a bullet to the hand wielding his weapon. He held himself back from yelling out in pain and muttered, “Who the hell are you?”
“I am vengeance, I am the night, I am Deadpool!” he proclaimed as he knocked the gun away from the man’s reach. “Tell you what, since you finally gave me the opportunity to use that line, I’ll let you live as long as you tell me what I- “A bullet tore its way through Deadpool’s chest as he looked at the wound in surprise before turning around to face the second man. “Talk about fucking amateur hour, you couldn’t even hit my heart!?”
“Wha-how did- “was all he managed to say before a shot to the head ended his life.
“See, your friend was less lucky, now then, what exactly are you guys cooking up in this fun little trap house?”
“We sold MGH to folks, gave them a taste for it so that they could buy more powerful stuff from our boss.” The man said, panic in his voice over the sudden death of his partner.
“Your boss, who’s that?”
Loud footsteps could be heard approaching the house as a tall, muscle-bound man entered, crouching so that he could properly make it through the doorway. His upper body was enormous, pulsating with muscle and providing an imposing figure. His lower half seemed toned but much less bulky resulting in a man who looked quite top-heavy. The large man adjusted his red bottle-cap lenses as he spoke. “I gotta be honest, this was not what I expected when I came in here. Did I get the right house?”
Deadpool looked to the man in confusion, “bigger and burlier, huh? You must be the boss!” He drew both of his guns and pointed them at the massive man.
“Hey, you’re Deadpool, right?” The man chuckled, raising his hands to show he meant no harm. “Sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong man, I’m Strong Guy.”
“Strong Guy? What did you come up with that name in elementary school?”
“Uh…I actually didn’t choose the name, people just sort of started calling me that.” Strong Guy sheepishly replied, scratching the back of his head.
“Well, if you aren’t the boss who is, better yet, why are you here!?” Deadpool kept his guns trained on the big man in front of him, ignoring the thug he had been threatening and allowing the man to go to reach for his dead ally’s gun.
“I’m here with a friend, we’re…er…he’s a private eye.”
“A detective? Well, I love a good team-up! Let me fill ya in,” Deadpool exclaimed. “This guy over here shot me, so I shot him back, self-defense, it’s a real law look it up.” He said, motioning to the body next to him. “As for the other guy, he’s apparently here because of his boss, they’re getting people hooked on MGH, also where did he go?”
“Eat shit, both of yo- “the man said, preparing to fire his gun at Strong Guy before he was kicked in the face by another new entrant.
The man in question had short black hair and wore a trench coat, under which was a green shirt with an odd pattern on it, six circles connected to one another like branches on a tree. Before the others had time to fully understand the situation however another man entered, one who looked exactly like the previous man. A finger snapped and a brief glow enveloped the new man as the clone was absorbed back into his body.
“Hey, I remember you! You’re the multiple guy! Madrix? Don’t you usually have a lameass costume?” Deadpool inquired.
“Madrox and yeah, I ditched it, doesn’t fit my current career path.” The Multiple Man looked over to his partner, “what’s he doing here?”
Strong Guy shrugged and laughed a little, “he was here when I came in, apparently, he’s investigating too.”
“Does that investigation include the guy whose brains are on the floor?” Madrox asked, motioning to the body next to Deadpool.
“Hey, like I told your buddy, he shot first, I just returned the favor. If it’s good for Han Solo it’s good for me!”
The private eye smirked before he stomped his foot on the ground, causing a double of him to appear. “Go check upstairs, make sure there’s nothing too interesting up there.” The double nodded and went on its way. “Alright, ‘Pool, what did you find out about this place and why are you here?”
“Woah, getting all private dick-ish on me all of the sudden. They’re getting addicts hooked on MGH here, these dummies are working for another guy who has a supply of it and I was just about to find out who that was until your friend lumbered onto the scene.”
Madrox looked over to Strong Guy, “Is that true, Guido, did you lumber?”
“No more than usual, boss,” he replied with a smile.
“Alright, you managed to actually gather some solid info for us so, I’ll fill you in on some details.” Madrox said, looking at various objects in the room as he spoke. “We were hired by the family of a young mutant girl who went missing over a week ago, name’s Layla Miller.” Madrox pulled out a photo of a blond-haired girl in an “Alice in Chains” t-shirt, wearing a blue skirt with red and black leggings. She was sticking her tongue out at whoever took the photo.
“Woah, kids still know who Alice in Chains are?” Deadpool sarcastically replied before Madrox swiped the photo out of his hand. “Hey, hey, just kidding, it looks like you guys need some help and I, being the hero of the people, would be happy to assist.”
Madrox and Strong Guy stared at one another, a mixture of worry and disbelief on their faces. Before the detective could speak up, however, his clone arrived at the top of the steps, calling down to the trio.
“We’ve got a body up here, cold, probably been dead for hours now, judging by the track marks I’m gonna guess overdose but we won’t know for sure until we do an autopsy.”
“Autopsy?” Guido asked.
“Don’t listen to him, that must be the part of me that’s seen too many police procedurals.” Madrox muttered before absorbing the nearby clone back into his body.
“Aww, guess the American Way will have to wait.” Deadpool whined before putting his, freshly unsheathed, katanas back in their holders.
“So, what do we do now? We know what these guys were up to but we don’t really have a lead,” Strong Guy inquired.
“We could wait for whoever this boss guy is to come looking for these guys but if Layla is still alive we can’t waste time,” Madrox replied, pacing as he tried to come up with a solution to their issue.
“Hey, I know just the guy who can help you out!” Deadpool exclaimed, ushering the others out the door.
# # # # # # # # # # #
Weasel stared up at the roof of his living room as the television played an infomercial for some new exercise DVD, “Toned Abs and Firm Buttocks.” Normally, he’d be interested in seeing just how firm these buttocks were but after the sudden return of Wade Wilson, mercenary and part-time destroyer of his life, Weasel couldn’t focus on much else. Why was Wade back now and why was he digging into his’ past. Perhaps, he really was trying to make things right. It wasn’t like Wade had a lot of friends to go to when he wanted to start over again. Before Weasel could think about the scenario in more detail a series of loud knocks came from the door.
“Weaz, open up, I need your help.” Deadpool shouted from behind the door as the knocks continued. “I need you to work your tech magic here and find a bad guy for me, come on, buddy.”
Weasel sighed as he got off the couch and opened the door. “Look Wade, I don’t want any- “He stopped upon seeing that Deadpool was not alone and briefly marveled at the sight of Strong Guy, who waved back at him.
“Yeah, I brought some friends, hope you don’t mind.” Deadpool said as he wandered into the apartment.
“Friends is a bit much but your pal here said you might be able to help us track down the guy running an MGH operation,” the Multiple Man explained as he made his way into the apartment.
“Er…” was all Weasel managed to say before staring back at Deadpool. “Wade…I haven’t really done this type of thing in a while.”
“Aw, come on Weaz, it’s like riding a bike, you never really forget.” Deadpool said, draping an arm around his friend much to Weasel’s discomfort. “It’s for a worthy cause.”
“Unless we interrupted some personal time,” Strong Guy gestured to the television, still displaying the infomercial.
“No,” Weasel quickly protested, “it’s just…I can do this for you but I need a few hours and some info.”
“That’s the spirit, I told you guys he’d help. You won’t regret this buddy!” Deadpool exclaimed as he rustled his partner’s hair.
“Too late for that,” Weasel muttered under his breath as he gestured for the group to follow him into his bedroom.
Before Deadpool could make it inside the room however the familiar chorus of “Maneater” began emanating from his spandex pants. “Uh...you guys get started without me, I’ll join in a second.” He nervously spoke, reaching into his pants and pulling out his phone.
“Should we be concerned by that?” Madrox asked Weasel as Deadpool made his way out of earshot of the group.
“Honestly, if you aren’t already concerned by him then you have some issues of your own to sort out.” The hacker replied, pushing up his glasses.
“Fair point.”
Deadpool made his way into the kitchen as he answered the phone, “world’s greatest mercenary and all around badass, Deadpool, speaking.”
“Ditch the private eye and his muscle, I’ve got an actual lead on the girl,” the voice on the other end said.
“I’m listening.”
To Be Continued…