Randy Lander presents
Deadpool: Awkward Passion
For the past 3 months I’ve been looking for something, so I’ve tried doing several things to help put my mind at ease. First I started taking on minor tasks like beating up bums for money, it was fun but the pay wasn’t worth it. Then suddenly I decided to become a bodyguard for some geeky club, that didn’t work out either. And now here I am outside Detroit’s main city government offices, waiting for some ex-undercover cop to help me out. Since when did chopping people up lead me to this?
After leaving, well, escaping the Weapon X program I started contemplating about whether or not I was happy with what I was supposedly ‘given’. Eventually I became blissful with what I had since my powers allowed me to do things that almost anyone couldn’t do. Except my powers were mostly used to acquire a paycheck every now and then, basically allowing me to move on to bigger things. What are those bigger things? I don’t know, but I definitely needed the money.
Although currently with these menial errands I’m doing and getting paid for, is it still worth it? To do all these violent and ridiculous things just so I can feel…hearty? Normally I’d have some wisecrack or offensive-random joke to spout out about now, but I’ve kind of hit the point to where the days of working as a mercenary are starting to get to me. Just interacting with some of the most foul and negative employers is enough to make anyone want to strongly reconsider about where they are in life.
And then a squirrel ran by carrying a small toy parachute, my mind then began to imagine the squirrel skydiving while trying to chase a nut that’s falling along with it. Ah, imagination is a great thing to have. I think it’s best to put these thoughts off until I’m done here, and by the time I was done contemplating here came Alex Gauss wearing a black leather jacket and a grizzled look on his face.
“Well if it ain’t mister masculinity himself!”
“You might want to save your material for when we go inside and meet the guy.”
“So what’s the bastard’s name?”
“Derek Alexander. And as it turns out, he’s actually the main proponent behind Rob’s secret weapons cache.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Well nothing much, there is an interesting rumor I picked up where he did petition to close the Oreo factory in place of a Fig Newton factory.”
“Bastard! Alright, let’s get in there!”
“Absolutely.” Two men, both of whom have gone through terrible times, march up the stairs and through the front of the building. We then keep walking toward the receptionist at the front desk, she looks surprised like she should be, “Hey, you.” I said to her.
“Uh, can I help you?” Said the receptionist.
“We’re looking for Derek Alexander.”
“He’s actually in a meeting right now.”
“The man we’re looking for is in a meeting with the rest of his rat pack? How very appropriate and convenient. Good day to you madam!” Me and Alex walk past the front desk.
“But sir you can’t!-“
“I said good day madam! Also might I suggest using some bleach to clean out that coffee stain? It is rather obtruding.”
“Why are you sounding like a British gentleman?”
“What the bloody hell are you rambling on about?”
“Never mind.” Past many printers and that one picture with the cat that says, “hang in there,” god I hate that cat, we manage to find the meeting room. Me and Alex look at each other in agreement and slam through the door, interrupting their discussion about sewer pipes which was already weird enough!
“What are you two doing in here?!” Said some ‘Blonde Wig In A Suit’.
“I should ask the same to him!” I point at Derek, immediately noticing his squeamish look and eerie looking hands. “That man was using tax dollars to supply Robert Polo with weapons and I’m probably assuming hookers as well!”
“What?! First off what proof, do you have-“
Alex takes out a folder with all of Rob’s leftover notes and reports from the police station. “Here you go sir,” he hands the folder over to the ‘Blonde Wig In A Suit’. The ‘Blonde Wig’ looks at the information in a surprised and yet disturbed manner.
“This-this is unbelievable. Who are you people?!”
“My name is Alex Gauss and this man over here is…”
“Rambunctious Cornelius, uh, I mean Deadpool!”
Alex interrupts the ‘Blonde Wig’, “Sir, I’m an undercover cop who works for the Detroit police department. And I can definitely say that this man over here should be accounted for all the harm he’s done by providing Polo with financial substantiates.”
“Normally I would have people like you two escorted, but in this case this brings up something I’ve been meaning to ask. Derek, there was a rumor floating around here a month ago that certain items were missing out of the evidence room in our local police department. And I’m beginning to suspect that you also had something to do with this.”
I quickly followed up, “Yeah! What did you do with the drugs, and where can I have some? Uh, I mean, are you guilty in this too?!”
Derek quickly turned into panic-attack mode, his forehead was getting sweaty, and his arms became jittery. Suddenly he reached in his right pocket and got out a knife, everyone became startled in the room except me. He then grabbed the nearest worker, and took him hostage. Assuming that he would stab the guy if we did anything.
“I’m warning you people, don’t get any closer!”
“Who’s Ted?! Agh!”
Suddenly I shot the knife from out of his hand, including removing a few fingers as well. The man then dropped to the ground, bleeding and yelling constantly.
“Oh shush you pansy! Besides it’s not like I shot you through your chest…oh wait I did.” Suddenly I notice a bullet hole through the middle of his torso, but unfortunately it missed his heart.
“Quick someone call an ambulance!” Said the ‘Blonde Wig’.
“Oh no, what would we ever do. Hey Alex, you want to get out of here?”
Suddenly the Blonde Wig calls for our attention. “Hey, you two!”
“Yep?” Said Alex.
“Sup yo?” Said me.
“Who are you people?”
“I told you, I’m an undercover cop.”
“Sorry, I meant to say you.” He points at me.
“Yeah, you! Deadpool! Are you one of those masked vigilantes?”
“Um, imagine though if your everyday masked vigilante would casually stop by at a ‘Taco Bell’ and would like to beat up bums from time to time. That would be me. Also I’m pretty funny, hey you want to hear a joke?”
“So how many rotting carcass’s does it take-“
Alex interrupts, “Sorry about that, we need to get going. Um, is the guy going to be arrested?”
“Honestly this information was the final nail in the coffin, so don’t worry I’ll make sure he’s out of here.”
“What about the cops?”
“It’s Detroit, cops are always dealing with dirty business around here. And honestly Derek was kind of a dick to begin with.”
“Well I’d suggest you two get out of here, I have a feeling reporters are going to be crowding outside this place any second now.”
Alex and I leave the main offices and return outside, walking along the sidewalk while the sun starts to set. “Thank god it’s over.” Said Alex.
“It’s not so much as over as it is waiting for another crop of weeds to grow again.” We stop nearby Alex’s car, which looks surprisingly clean considering the amount of damage it took yesterday. “Is your car invincible or something? Because it looks like it’s in shape considering the beating it took just recently.”
“Actually there are only a few scratches, but yeah I definitely tried my best to buff this bad-boy up.”
“You sound like one of them gear-heads.”
“No, not really, this car actually belonged to my brother before he, well, deceased.”
“Sucks to hear about that man.”
“Its fine, the reason I keep this car around is because Vince said in his will that he wanted me to have it. It was hard to accept simply because it was his, but at the same time it was also a gift from him. And in that case I didn’t want to be disrespectful.”
“Hopefully this doesn’t sound insensitive, but how did he…?”
“Die? He had a heart attack while driving home. Unfortunately no was able to get to him fast enough to drive him to a hospital. It was a rough time, but things are fine now.”
“Well hey, if it means anything I’m sure in Asgard he’s fixing the bolts on some golem or whatever mythical creature is up there.”
Alex started laughing a bit, “He was always into Norse mythology surprisingly, so maybe he is. Heh.” Alex starts up his car. “Well Deadpool, I’m afraid this is where we have to depart.”
“Alex before you go, I want to say something.”
“That you love me?”
“Well aside from that, but uh…yeegh-urgh!”
“What is it?”
Alex starts smiling again, which is kind of rare to see from him. “You are the craziest son-of-a-bitch I’ve seen in a long time, but that’s not a bad thing though.”
“Oh yeah, trust me at least you’re not like one of those fake masked superheroes who talk more than they take action. Ugh, if I hear one more goddamn speech about ‘The City’ then I’m moving to Canada.”
“Yeah, Canada’s not a good idea. Well, from what I heard that is.”
“I’ll take what I can get, I hate to sound ungrateful but that’s just how I feel right now. But anyway, I appreciate the compliment.”
“No problem, so what are you going to do now?”
“Probably resign and figure out what to do from there. Maybe become a mall security guard, heh, yeah right.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something out there, maybe even work at a pizzeria!”
“Well anyway I’m gonna go.”
“Hold on, I just want to give you something.”
“What?” Alex hands me over a full bag of greasy taco’s and hot sauce packets. My joy meter was about to burst at that moment. “Gasp!”
“Just thought I’d share that, and Deadpool…”
“I don’t know that much about you nor do I even care how many people hate your guts, but one thing I can tell you is…kick as much ass as possible.” Alex takes off in his car, while I stand on the sidewalk thinking about what has happened. Thinking usually hurts my head, but in this case it settles in like a mild brain freeze.
Earlier I was thinking about how I felt after the ‘incident’ that happened at Weapon X and what lies for my future. But then I figured it out, I just love destroying bad people. I’m no saint and I’m definitely in no way the sanest person on the planet, but slicing some ruthless murderer into pieces does make me feel good in the darkest way possible. And I think my humor is just there for the sugar coating, because without it I’d just be the Punisher or some killing machine. The lucidity starts to kick in every once in a while, but without it I’d be remembering all the treacherous things that happened to me and everyone I knew and loved.
So I guess the question here is, should I just stop existing? And the answer is…’fuck’ no!
Plus I got these taco’s in my hand and who else is gonna eat them? Those beat-up bums? Anyway I should head back to my hotel room, since I need to plan out my next move. Hm, maybe it’s time I visit Logan again? Naw, he’s probably in Japan, the man can’t get enough of that Sake!
I resumed my thought processing at ‘Orlando’s Brew Stop’ by drinking as many shots of tequila as possible. Okay it’s not so much as thinking, as it is just getting flat-out drunk. Suddenly on the TV screen I see something, “Supposed appearance of ‘The Wolverine’ was seen near Manhattan. More details at 11.”
“Well ain’t he getting all fancy now, I’m pretty sure he’s hanging out with Carrie and all those ‘Pecks in the City’ actresses *hiccup*.”
“Sir, you’re drunk.” Said the bartender
“No I’m Deadpool…also why do my pants feel warm?”