---

“FINE!” Stephanie screamed, as she slammed the door in Uncle Jesse’s face. I laughed hysterically, the bowl of popcorn in my lap bouncing around, kernels falling over the edge and into the folds of my underpants.

Sitting on my couch, adorned in my boxers and socks, I delighted in the comedic brilliance of the six-year-old Jodie Sweetin. I also delighted in the fact that she had grown up to be a tremendously filthy, fake-boobed whore. Again, I laughed loudly.

Ahhh…this was the life. Sitting alone in my apartment, clothes strewn about on the floor, the shades pulled down, a nutritious bowl of Orville Redenbacher’s finest, and one of the greatest collections of talent ever assembled in one cast on my television screen.

All my friends were here. Bob Saget. Dave Coulier. John Stamos. Lori Loughlin. Kirk Cameron’s sister. Jodie “Double D” Sweetin. The Olsen Twins. Oh, the Olsen twins…yes this was the life, all right.

Just as I was about to break into a stunning rendition of “I’m so Lonely” with tears in my eyes, I was interrupted by the ringing of my work phone.

Don’t you hate when you’re watching one of your favorite programs, and the phone rings? Sometimes I don’t know if being the world’s most sought-after assassin is a gift or a curse.

Nevertheless, I reached toward the end of the couch and grabbed the phone on the end table. And by end table, I mean one of those TV-dinner tray thingamajigs. I set one of those up on each side of my couch. I’m classy like that. I should have a show on the Discovery Channel, like that queer bald dude.

“Deadpool, the merc with a mouth with the most. Talk to me.”

“I am in need of your services,” a stern, feminine voice replied. I figured it was time to turn on the charm.

“Well, you know, ma’am, I offer many services. Wink wink,” I said. Suave.

“I wish to hire you to kill someone.”

All righty. Guess I was off on the whole ‘services’ thing. Oh well.

“What’s the job?” I asked, switching into my professional business character.

She said she couldn’t give me the details over the phone, and instead she gave me a time and a place the following day where she wanted to meet me. She told me she hoped to see me there, and promptly hung up the phone.

After I did the same, I got off the couch, and walked across the room to my computer. Popcorn rolled off my lap and onto the floor. I was about to pick it up, until I noticed a roach scurry out from under one of my dirty uniforms on the floor and begin trying to find a way to devour the popcorn. Gross. I made a mental note to hire a cleaning lady. Preferably about 20 years old. From one of those Eastern European countries. Like Czechoslovakia, or Romania, or Brazil or something.

After getting over my shock at knowing how to pronounce Czechoslovakia, I sat down at my computer to ponder my latest job offer.

Usually, when a client couldn’t tell me the details over the phone, it meant there was something tricky going on. Most of the time, it meant that it wasn’t a job at all, but a trap. I thought about just forgetting it and not going. There’d always be more jobs. Someone always wanted someone else dead. I think that’s like a guaranteed universal human right or something. The right to get other people killed. If it ain’t, it damn well should be.

The sensible thing to do would be to ignore it and wait for another job. It’s what a smart man would do.

Understandably, within moments I was on Mapquest, plotting a route to the meeting place that the woman had given me.

When I finished, I rushed back to the couch. I arrived just in time to see Uncle Jesse and Stephanie hug. Oh Full House, is there a life lesson you can’t teach?

It was a happy ending for the Tanner gang. Maybe this was a sign of things to come for ol’ Wade, too. Maybe I was destined for some good luck, too.

Finally, it was time for Deadpool, the masked avenger, to have his day in the sun.

Yeah. I know. I’m not a masked avenger. I don’t know where that came from.

---

Deadpool in…

WADE, GET YOUR GUN

By Eric Faynberg

---

I arrived at the address given to me by the mystery woman on the phone right on time. Not something I usually have the common courtesy to do, mind you. This time, though, my interest was piqued.

Getting there was a whole shpiel, too. No, I’m not Jewish, but that doesn’t stop other people from using those funky words, so I don’t let it stop me, either.

Anywho, let me tell ya, riding the bus in a bright red bodysuit with swords and guns strapped all over your body is just asking for weird stares. Frankly, I was offended. Halfway through the ride, a vile stench filled the bus, and these bastards all stared at me, like I did it. Meanwhile, I’ll bet a nickel it was that ninety-year-old chick sitting next to me. I think she pissed herself. Really, if these old people can’t control their bodily functions, we need to stop letting them go outside. There are rules as to what you can and can’t bring onto the bus, and I don’t recall urine being something that was acceptable. Bah. What are you gonna do? They’ll let any freak on the bus these days. Sad state of affairs, really.

Getting through that terrifying ordeal really helped me prepare for what came next.

When I arrived at the given address, I wasn’t very surprised to find that it was an abandoned warehouse in a seedy, industrial part of town. As I approached the door, my spider-sense was going crazy. Well, it would have gone crazy if I actually had a spider-sense.

At the side of the large building, there was a door. Not seeing any other way inside, it took me a good five minutes to figure out that it was the only way inside. What can I say? I’m not exactly the most disease-ridden prostitute in the whorehouse. Wait…I don’t think that’s quite how that expression goes.

I summed up the courage, as well as the stupidity, to open the door and make my way inside. It was dark, and the door quickly shut behind me. I heard a locking sound. Then the lights came on.

“Clearly coming here was not the way to go,” I said, sighing.

The warehouse was empty, except for about 30 armed and armored soldier-types, all pointing their guns at little old me.

“Boys, boys, boys,” I began. “I think there’s a bit of a misunderstanding here. I received a call from a poor, defenseless lass who was clearly in a great deal of danger. She called me looking for help. Now I come here, and I don’t see a poor, defenseless lass. In fact, I don’t see a lass at all. I think someone has been lying. Do I need to teach you boys about the importance of honesty?”

Looking around the room at the men, I hoped that I’d gotten through to them. Made them see the error of their ways.

Instead, I distinctly heard the word “fire,” and within moments I was bouncing around like a Mexican jumping bean, dodging bullets coming from every direction. It was time for action.

I spotted the one who seemed to be the leader, directing traffic. He would be my first target. I made my way through the field of bullets using some nifty moves that any Olympic gymnast would be proud of. I leapt into the air, unsheathing the two swords strapped to my spine, as I approached the main guy. Two others rushed to assist him, one at each of his sides. As I landed on my feet, they immediately fired. I deflected the bullets of his little helpers with my swords, hitting them with each other’s own bullets. Basically, I made them hit each other. Beneath my mask, I was grinning with glee. As for the boss-man, I ducked his barrage of bullets, and after I had finished taking care of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, I used my steel blades to cut through his legs, right in the middle of his shins, detaching his feet from his body. He fell backwards in this really awkward way, while his feet, blood gushing out of them, stayed planted to the ground. If only his cohorts, the ones rushing over towards us, weren’t wearing face shields. Their facial expressions must have been priceless. They all hesitated for just a moment at the disturbing sight, which gave me just enough time to whip out my super-duper big machine gun and mow down about five of them, as if they were a bunch of protestors in a Communist country. Good times.

I looked around the warehouse, and liked what I saw. The rest of them looked worried, seeing how easily I’d taken care of their buddies. There’s nothing more entertaining then a bunch of gun-toting dudes who’ve been too pussified by my greatness to shoot. That just gives me this really warm, toasty feeling inside. Like I’ve really accomplished something. It’s topped only by the feeling I get after I kill them.

I considered using my teleporter to put them out of their misery quicker, but I figured it would be more fun to do it the old-fashioned way. I easily dispatched another group of them that had taken a run at me. As I took down the four of them, I quickly turned and threw a couple of ninja stars, hitting two more of my would-be attackers right in their respective jugulars.

As the two of them fell to the floor, one of the remaining soldiers decided to take me on one on one. I almost felt bad for him. He tried some fancy move where he dropped his gun and pulled out a knife or something. I was too busy killing him to really notice. I’d really love to have a full-time camera crew that followed me around and made blooper tapes whenever I have one of these battles where I’m ridiculously outnumbered, yet kick total ass. I could then sell them on the Home Shopping Network, or something.

‘The Top Ten Things NOT to Do When Facing A Master Assassin: Learn from the One and Only Deadpool’

It would sell millions. Guaranteed. Do it.

Anyway, back to the action. After I gutted the brave guy like as if he was a salmon, I turned my attention to a big group of about ten that had gathered in a corner of the warehouse, all firing at me in unison. With a superb running flip off of a wall, I managed to evade their fire while conveniently tossing a small grenade right into the middle of their little corner.

That took care of most of them, and the couple that managed to escape the blast quickly fell victim to my patented axe kicks. All those hours spent playing Street Fighter had finally paid off.

With another ten out of the picture, they were down to only a handful. Now I was just taking my time, as the remaining group was probably doing the same thing that old lady on the bus did. I put away the guns that I’d been holding, and instead wrapped my hands around a pair of pistols that were holstered around my ankles. I ran right at them, my guns ahead of me. They all turned at me, emptying their clips, but unfortunately for them, I just kept going. One of them actually managed to graze the side of my thigh, making a small hole in my costume. That made me mad.

“You’re getting it extra special, buddy boy,” I yelled at the one that hit me, as I took down one of his partners. He froze in his tracks as another of his pals tried to hit me with the butt end of his gun. I ducked and pressed one of my pistols right into his chest, firing the trigger. The guy who hit me snapped out of his daze, and turned around, beginning to run.

By that point, however, he was the only one left. I’d taken out all of them, except for him, saving him for last. I caught him easily, and was about to grab him, when all of a sudden, I lost my footing. Everything around me shook, and I felt like I was being pummeled by blasts of air. As I struggled to stay on my feet, I turned around and caught a glimpse of a guy clad in yellow and brown, standing with his arms stretched out in front of him pointing at me. I couldn’t make him out clearly, as the air around him was all wavy-life.

“Hey, aren’t you that loser that always gets the crap beaten out of him by Spider-Man?” I yelled at him.

Before I could even finish the question, though, I suddenly felt something grab me. I looked down, and I saw a thick white cord that had wrapped around my arms and chest. I tried to break free, but within a split second, I felt a nasty pain shoot through my body. I felt numb all over, like I was paralyzed.

Up until that point, I had still managed to continue standing on my feet. Suddenly I felt like I was falling. I looked down at my legs, and I saw this really goofy looking dude, with this stupid green helmet kneeling in front of me. Oh yeah, and he had saws on his wrists. They were cutting through my legs.

Oh sweet irony.

As I fell to the ground, I groaned at the thought of how long it would take for my body to regenerate the rest of my legs. I tried to say something, but before I could even get that out, I felt my head snap back with an incredible force. I looked up and realized that I’d just received a nasty kick right to the head from a smoking hot chick with shoulder length blonde hair, clad in a really tight leather digs.

“Hey sweetie, is this how you get the attention of all men,” I managed to blurt out in the direction of the chick, before I blacked out.

---

“Oh, man. I feel about as bad as the Democrats must have felt when John Kerry said ‘global test.’ Zing!” I blurted out, as my eyes opened and I awoke. I felt really groggy. It reminded me of how I felt after this one time that this chick tied me up and paddled me for hours, before taking me on an incredible sexual adventure.

Yeah…that never happened.

I suddenly recalled killing a bunch of nameless morons, before getting the crap beaten out of me by that Shocker dude, some other douchebags, and that hot chick who may have broken my neck with her kick.

I looked down at my legs, and noticed that they were both intact. That meant I must have been passed out for some time. Upon further inspection, I realized that my ankles and wrists were strapped down to the bed-like contraption that I was laying on. I was lying there, in just my boxers.

“Hmm,” I thought, “whatever they’ve been doing here for me, it seems like fun.”

I looked around the room for my uniform and gear, but I didn’t see it anywhere. The small room was empty, aside from the thing I was on top of. All the walls were made out of this shiny looking metal stuff. You know, the typical high-tech looking hideout type place thing.

Then, out of nowhere, one of the room’s walls began to open, splitting in half, the two sides sliding apart. Before I even had the chance to look and see what was there, I felt something happening below me. The bed that I had been laying on began to change. After a few moments, I realized that I was sitting up, yet my appendages were still strapped down. Well, not that one. Heh, heh.

The bed had somehow managed to turn into some kind of chair. It began to hover, and then it began to move out of the room very quickly. As the chair took me out of the room and into a long hallway, it took off down the long corridor, weaving in and out of turns fast enough so that I could barely make out anything that passed by. All I was able to see was more of those same kinds of walls, and occasionally people in lab coats or the same kind of soldier dudes that I had had so much fun eliminating earlier.

As I turned back around to see what was in front of me, the chair suddenly stopped, as another large wall turned into a doorway.

The magic door opened, revealing a huge room, filled with computers and monitors and multi-colored buttons. I’d been inside enough secret hideouts n my time that I knew this had to be a control room of sorts.

The chair finally stopped moving altogether in the center of the room, right beside this huge, glowing column. About ten feet in front of me stood a figure with its back to me, apparently doing some kind of work at a computer station situated there. As my eyes adjusted to the weird lighting in the room, I was able to observe the figure in front of me.

It was a thin, humanoid type figure. The legs were long, and they curved very nicely at the top. The figure had a very defined shape to it, like a pear. Clearly, this was a woman.

“You got a nice caboose on you, sister!” I exclaimed, with a big smile across my face.

The figure turned around then, and began to approach me. As she got closer, I was able to get a much better look at her.

“Your rack ain’t half bad, either.”

[Mr. Wilson, I am very glad that you are here,] she said, in this really weird voice. And they say my voice is strange.

“Me too,” I said, glaring straight at her well-formed gazongas.

[Please, Mr. Wilson. Peel your eyes away from my breasts long enough to examine the rest of me. You might find you no longer have the desire to look at them.]

“Okey-dokey,” I said, tearing my eyes away from her boobs. I took a good look at her, from head to toe. It was eerie. Her skin, if you could call it that, was silver. Like she was made out of metal. Except, it was almost as it if was liquidy, or something. It was fucked up.

Then I looked up at her face. It looked human enough, although retaining the same features as the rest of her body. However, there was something else. She had these weird green panels on the sides of her face, on her shoulders, two on the side of each leg. One on each arm. Weird, wild stuff. Those panels looked like those old basketball sneakers with that green gel in the heel. Hah. Those were awesome. Yeah, she was interesting, all right.

“Cool,” I said, returning my gaze to her breasts.

[How can one who is so skilled at something be so seemingly stupid and infantile?] she asked, curiously.

“Who knows?” I responded. “It’s a mystery, it really is. Maybe I’m like one of those idiot somethings. What’s the word?”

[I believe the term that you are searching for is idiot savant.]

“Yeah, that’s the one. Good call, shiny.”

She stared at me.

“Maybe I’m just an idiot,” I said. “So anyway, your tits are great, but eventually I’m gonna start to wonder what the hell I’m doing here strapped down to a chair, in my boxers, staring at some weird metal chick’s massive jugs. As I see it, you have two options. Either you start giving me some answers, or we start getting it on. I’m up for either one.”

[Mr. Wilson,] she began, [my name is Eva. I am in charge of day to day operations of this organization; in whose headquarters we are now located. Unfortunately, I did not believe that you would agree of your own free will to come here. I was forced to have you captured. As you can see, if I had wished to, I could easily have issued a command to have had you terminated. My operation went very smoothly, and you were captured exactly as I had planned.]

“Yeah, about that…” I questioned, but she interrupted me.

[Please, Mr. Wilson. Let me finish. You will have all the time you desire for questions afterwards.]

“Ok.”

[As I was saying, if I so desired, I could have had you killed. Clearly, you are still alive, so as you can see, that was not my intention. The reason I had you captured and brought here is because I am in need of your talents. This organization is in need of your talents. Before you even begin to make your petty remark, no, I am not in need of your sexual talents. Only your penchant for doing, as they say, dirty work.]

Damn it! How could she ruin an opportunity for me to express my humor like that? This lady had some nerve.

[We need to get certain things done to be able to carry out our plans successfully. Regardless of how much time or money is invested in training and preparing men, most men are just not capable of accomplishing such tasks. You, however, are indeed capable of doing just the kind of work we need done. There are items that we need to acquire, and people we need taken out of the picture. There are secrets that we need to learn, and others that we need to make sure remain secrets. These are all things that you have done in the past, and now I need you to come and do them for us,] she explained.

“So who exactly is this ‘we’ and ‘us’ that you keep referring to?” I asked.

[The organization that I work for is known as Weapon Plus.]

“Whoa!” I exclaimed. “WEAPON Plus? Are you shitting me? Do you really expect me to work for a program with the name WEAPON in it again? You seem to know a lot about me. Well, if you’ve done your research, you should know that there’s no chance in hell that I’m working for another ‘WEAPON’ program!”

[Please, Mr. Wilson. Understand that Weapon Plus is not what you know as Weapon X. True, our earliest roots were formed in that organization, but we now have nothing to do with them. We are a stand-alone project. For all intents and purposes, Weapon Plus is just a code name. We are not Weapon X, and we don’t plan to become them. Our goals are nothing like those of Weapon X. We do not seek to turn mutants into super soldier slaves. We have a far different purpose.]

“Oh yeah?” I asked. “What exactly is your purpose, then?”

[Unfortunately, Mr. Wilson, I am unable to reveal that information to you at this time. While I run the day-to-day operations of Weapon Plus, I am not the one who is ultimately in charge.]

“Who is?”

[Once again, I am afraid I cannot answer that question.]

“That’s fine, because I don’t give a rat’s ass anyway. There ain’t no way, no how that Wade T. Wilson is ever going to work for Weapon X or Weapon Plus or any other Weapon whatever, ever again! Now let me out of here, Rosie, before I let myself out!”

[Surely, Mr. Wilson, even a man of your limited intelligence realizes that you are in no position to make demands. Likewise, you must also realize that this not an offer that you can reject lightly. I am not asking, I am demanding. If you refuse, I will be forced to take action against you. Refuse me, Mr. Wilson, and you will be punished,] Eva said, sternly.

“Hah!” I laughed. “What are you, kidding me? You think I care if you hurt me? Kill me? Go ahead! Do your worst! Kill me, see if I give a shit. I’ve been expecting to die every single day of my life for as long as I can remember. Like I need this miserable existence. Go ahead! Put me out of my misery! I’m begging you!” I screamed, laughing hysterically.

[Oh, Mr. Wilson, I do not plan to kill you. I am well aware of your suicidal nature, and your lack of desire to continue living. I do not even plan to hurt you. Physically, that is,] she said, turning away from me and walking towards a large monitor at the other end of the control room.

My chair began to move again, following her to the large screen. When she stopped in front of it, my chair did as well. She pressed a bunch of buttons, and suddenly on the monitor appeared a picture. I saw a bunch of buildings in the distance, and a lot of grass and trees. The sky was blue, with barely a cloud in the sky.

“Nice place. What is this?” I asked.

[This is a college campus in Florida, Mr. Wilson.]

“Sweet, Eva. I always wanted to go away to school. Welcome to Miami! Whoo!”

[No, Mr. Wilson, you will not be attending this academic institution. However, someone you are familiar with currently does attend it,] Eva said, as she manipulated more buttons, and suddenly the screen zoomed into the campus, really fast, and really in-depth.

For a few moments, the screen scanned through crowds of people walking around this quiet college campus, until eventually it stopped on a specific target, and again zoomed in.

As the screen zoomed in on a figure, I was able to make out long red hair, not to mention a smokin’ hot bod. Then it dawned on me, what this robot bitch was doing.

“Hey! Hal-ette! What the fuck is this, eh? Don’t even think about hurting Terry, or I’ll rip you apart, wire by wire!” I yelled at Eva, angrily.

[Theresa Rourke Cassidy, also known as Siryn,] Eva began to explain. [From data analysis based on your life, Mr. Wilson, it appears you harbor romantic feelings, feelings of love toward this woman. While I understood that making threats against your life would not be sufficient to convince you to join our cause, I realized that bringing Ms. Rourke Cassidy into the equation would bring about the desired result. From your initial reaction, I see that my hypothesis was correct.]

“Damn it, you leave her alone, you hear me? She never did anything to you!” I yelled. Now I was getting pissed off. There was no way I could let something bad happen to Terry at my own expense.

[Mr. Wilson, if you will direct your attention back to the screen, you will see the woman known as Siryn going about what can be called her daily routine. For some time now, she has been enrolled as a student at this university. She has seemingly decided to leave her life as a costumed heroine behind, instead choosing a more normal path.”]

“Good, I’m glad she did, Eva, and I promise you that if you do anything to screw that up for her, I will take this whole Weapon Plus thing down. I swear it!”

I was steaming now. It takes a lot to make me lose my cool, but this broad was really pushing my buttons. I was yelling like mad, but she didn’t seem to care. She just kept talking as if I hadn’t said a word.

[Right now, Ms. Rourke Cassidy is a healthy young woman. Her body has no current ailments. Imagine, however, if Ms. Rourke Cassidy were to develop a severe cold. Observe.]

Eva pushed some more buttons and entered some more commands, and then looked back up at the screen. Within a few seconds, Terry, who was sitting under a tree with a book in hand, began to cough. She didn’t appear to be choking or anything, just coughing, as if she had a sore throat.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I scoffed. “So she coughed. Big deal.”

Eva returned to the buttons in front of her. [I wonder how she would react if suddenly she were to experience shooting pains in her left knee.] Again, Eva pressed more buttons and looked up at the screen. Within seconds, Terry put her book down and grimaced slightly, running her hand over her left knee.

“Ok, lady, how the hell did you do that?” I demanded. This was beginning to freak me out.

[Several months ago, undercover Weapon Plus agents infiltrated this very campus. Their objective was to clandestinely expose Ms. Rourke Cassidy to special nanites that have been designed by Weapon Plus. Their mission was successful. These nanites allow me to have extremely accurate control over practically every aspect of Ms. Rourke Cassidy’s body. If I wished, I could force her heart to stop beating, and the action would be taken just moments after I ordered the command, as you’ve just seen. I am capable of ending the life of one Theresa Rourke Cassidy within seconds, Mr. Wilson.]

That was the last straw for me. I tried to break free of the chair that I was strapped to, but I just couldn’t do it. I scowled at her menacingly, and screamed obscenities at her, but she didn’t seem to care at all, the cold bitch. “There has to be a way to stop this. You can’t keep me here forever. I’ll get out and warn someone. The X-Men. Even if you kill me, they’ll figure it out eventually. They always do. They always keep tabs on their own. They’ll get those nanowhatevers out of her, and then they’ll find you and shut this crazy shit down,” I raved.

She looked at me with a puzzled expression. [That is illogical, Mr. Wilson. The X-Men pose no threat to Weapon Plus. Even if they were to somehow find out about the nanites, our satellites keep constant track of Ms. Rourke Cassidy. I would be alerted immediately if anything were to happen, and with the press of just a few buttons, I would kill Ms. Rourke Cassidy instantaneously.]

I was fuming, glaring a hole through her. I tried to think of something to say, but shockingly, my mind was blank.

[Mr. Wilson, there is nothing you can do about this. Every measure has been taken to make sure that this plan cannot fail, I promise you this. If you wish to ensure the continued existence of one Theresa Rourke Cassidy, your only choice is to comply with my demand and become an agent of Weapon Plus.]

“No way! I’ll get out of here, and I’ll make sure you never even think about hurting Terry again!” I screamed.

[The following may also be of interest to you,] she said, again ignoring my outburst. [These nanites allow me to balance the levels of, and control the distribution of, the chemicals and hormones in Ms. Rourke Cassidy’s body. I am able to control the levels of chemicals such as dopamine, serotonin, testosterone, estrogen, and norepinephrine. These chemicals, among others, help create the phenomenon that human beings call love. They cause the physical and emotional reactions that give humans the feeling that they are in love. In my data analysis, I did not only discover that you feel this emotion which you call love towards Theresa Rourke Cassidy, Mr. Wilson. I also discovered that to your great dismay, she has never returned such feelings to you. According to my research, this must cause you great emotional distress. All sorts of emotional problems, ranging from depression and anger, to inadequacy, surely plague you.]

“Yeah? So what if I do? What’s it to you?” I asked, snarling. “You gonna play psychiatrist with me? Might wanna turn this chair back into a bed again. People like to do this lying down.”

[If you were to accept a position as a Weapon Plus agent, Mr. Wilson, an assurance of Ms. Rourke Cassidy’s continued good health would not be the only perk you would receive. Eventually, when the ultimate goals of Weapon Plus are met, and your services were no longer needed, you would be released from duty. If you so desired, at the point of your dismissal from Weapon Plus, I would be able to manipulate the biochemistry of Theresa Rourke Cassidy so that she would reciprocate the emotion called love to you, as you do to her. I would ensure that she would fall in love with you, Mr. Wilson.]

I stared at her again. Half of my mind kept telling me to keep trying to bust out of here and tear this walking junkyard to pieces. Then there was the other half. The one that was absolutely and totally in love with Theresa Rourke Cassidy. The part of me that wanted nothing more than to absolutely leave every part of my life behind and go to some shack in the middle of nowhere and spend the rest of my life there with Terry. She was my obsession. All those sleepless nights spent staring into her window. All those endless thoughts.

That part of my mind started to overwhelm the first part, the sensible part. Man, I loved Terry so much. It’s not like she hated me, either. She’d actually shown interest in me from time to time. So if I got this Eva bitch to play with her estrogen and whatever a little bit, I wouldn’t be doing anything so wrong. I would just be giving her a little push. Besides, its not like I’d be bad for Terry. I’d never hurt her or anything like that. I’d treat her right.

Yeah. Maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong if that happened. Besides, I didn’t really have a choice, did I? It didn’t look like I was going to get out of this, and even if I managed to, these Weapon Plus assholes had all the bases covered. Even if I got the X-Men. Even if I got the Avengers, they’d still be able to take Terry out in a second.

Still, I had one lingering doubt.

“Wait a second, Eva. You just said that when Weapon Plus no longer needs my services, I’ll be released from duty or whatever. To me, that sounds like a real nice way of saying you’ll just kill me. Probably Terry, too.”

[When Weapon Plus achieves its project objectives, your existence will pose no threat. You will be allowed to do as you wish, as will Ms. Rourke Cassidy. No harm will come to you. Unfortunately, there is no possible way for me to prove this to you, Mr. Wilson. You will just have to believe it. It is not as if you have a choice, anyway. Not if you wish for Ms. Rourke Cassidy to survive.]

She had a point. I guess I really didn’t have a choice. There was no way I was going to put my principles ahead of Terry’s life, and I’m sure whatever they have me do won’t be much different than what I would be doing on my own, anyway. If I could come out of this with a chance to spend the rest of my miserable life with Terry, then anything was worth it. I’d do anything they asked.

I guess that was it, then.

“All right,” I said, cautiously, “you’ve got yourself a deal, Eva. I’ll do what you want. I’ll do Weapon Plus’ dirty work. But you better be careful, because if you’re lying to me…if something happens to Theresa, I won’t stop until you and everyone else involved with this Weapon Plus bullshit is dead. Or broken. You know, if they’re robots. Like you. …you are a robot, aren’t you?”

---

After I reluctantly accepted Eva’s offer, if you could call it that. She laid down a bunch of ground rules. She told me that I was not to tell anyone, even other Weapon Plus agents, about Terry, because Eva would find out, and she would immediately kill her. Eva explained that I was permitted to go see Terry whenever I wanted, or really do anything I wanted, as long as it didn’t interfere with my work, and as long as I kept my mouth shut. She assured me that they’d be keeping tabs on me.

Then, Eva returned my gear to me. Surprisingly, she actually had something to say that made me happy. Weapon Plus was beefing up my stuff. Better weapons, a more advanced teleporter, and a way better holographic image inducer than my old one, for sure.

She basically gave me a tour of this Weapon Plus place. I don’t even know where the hell it is, because she wouldn’t tell me. I think she got pissed off because as we were walking around the place, I kept staring at those green things all over her. And her boobs.

Eva explained that I was going to live at the HQ, and she showed me my living quarters. It was pretty impressive. Almost like my own apartment. Free grub, whenever I wanted it, too.

Finally, she decided to introduce me to some of my co-workers.

She led me through another of those weird, sliding doorways, and into a huge room. I felt like I was in some kind of weird loft in Manhattan or something. It was like this cool lounge room, or something. It was pretty big, too. I didn’t get it.

“What’s this all about, Eva?” I asked. “I thought this is one of those big, evil world-dominating things or something. What’s with all the pool tables and big screen TVs?”

[Most agents of Weapon Plus are human beings. Data analysis shows that happiness provides for better work performance. If comfort and what you term as fun will prompt you to do your job better, then we shall provide you with the necessary tools to accomplish this,] Eva explained.

“Sweet,” I commented.

She strolled through the room, and into a small room attached to it, where a few people sat at a round table, discussing things with each other. I recognized them as the guys who captured me.

“FRANK!” I shouted with glee. “Oh my god, Frankie, how have you been,” I exclaimed, as I ran up to Frank Schlichting, also known as the Constrictor, and gave him a big huge bear hug. “So YOU’RE the guy who belongs to that big, strong white tentacle thing that grabbed in the warehouse. I shoulda known! So how are ya, roomie?”

Frank and I had been roommates, once, with this chick that we thought was Titania. Actually, it was my ex-girlfriend Copycat. This was back during my Tom Cruise period, when I looked exactly like Mr. Katie Holmes himself. Long story.

Frank groaned with disgust as I gave him a peck on the cheek. He despised me, and that made it so fun. As I let go of him, I turned and looked at the woman sitting next to him. It was the blonde chick who almost took my head off earlier. Man, she was a hot piece of ass.

“Hey Frank,” I said, looking at her, “maybe we should try that roommate thing again, only this time, we bring her in as number three, eh? Waddya say, pal?”

“Ugh,” Frank said, with disgust. “Shut up, you stupid moron. Seriously, Eva, do we really need this buffoon here?”

“Despite his immense mental deficiencies, Deadpool is quite good at what he does, Constrictor. His talents will be put to good use here at Weapon Plus.”

“Yeah, what she said,” I added, before turning back to the blonde. She stood up, and extended her hand. I extended mine, reaching for her leather-clad airbags, but she smacked my hand away before I could get to them, snarling at me.

“My name is Yelena Belova,” she said, in a ridiculously thick Russian accent, “and if you ever attempt to touch my breasts again, I will rip off your testicles, purify them in a blender, and force you to ingest them like a milkshake, you asinine clown.”

“Hmm. I like you. Feisty,” I said, with delight. “Hey, you know there already is a Spider-Woman, right?” I asked, pointing at the spider-like logo on the left-boob area of her leather outfit.

“I am not Spider-Woman. I am the Black Widow.”

“Isn’t the Black Widow like an Avenger, not to mention ravaging redhead? Not that there’s anything wrong with blondes, I love you gals too, but I’ve always had a special place in my heart for redheads.”

“The woman you are referring to, you ignorant child, is the old Black Widow. I defeated her in combat, killing her. I have taken on her code name. She was a traitor to Mother Russia, and inferior to me as a spy, and as a weapon. Calling myself the Black Widow is my final insult to that witch, may she rot in hell.”

“Oooookay. Moving on…the guy with the saws. Whirlwind, right?” I asked as I looked at the man sitting across from Frank.

Whirlwind nodded at me, and grunted.

“Talkative. Let’s see, who else do we have here. Ah! The Spider-Man reject! Shocker! What’s up, dude?”

“Keep talking, asshole, and I’ll use these babies to scramble your brains,” he snapped, pointing to those things he wore on his hands.

“Love you too, sweetums. We’re all going to get along just great, aren’t we?” I said, smiling at the four of them. They didn’t return any smiles, to say the least.

I considered asking Frank to tango, but before I could, Eva started to talk in that funky robot voice of hers.

[Deadpool, there will be time later for you to fraternize with the other agents. Please follow me back to the control room, where we shall discuss the details of your first assignment,] said Eva, who’d been standing in the doorway, silently.

“What’s that about frats? I’ve always wanted to be in a frat. Anywho, gentlemen, lady…it’s been an enormous displeasure. I look forward to working with all of you, and making your lives as miserable as my own. Good day,” I said, as I followed Eva to the control room.

---

“What a friggin’ retard!” Herman Schultz said, sighing as Deadpool left the room.

“Please, man. At least you never had the misfortune of living with the guy. He’s a total nutjob. In this business, you meet some weird fuckin’ people, but this guy takes the cake. Man, I don’t even know what the hell happened to him to make him this way. Freak.”

“You might be right there, Frank,” said Whirlwind.

“Enough chitchat,” Shocker said. “This is boring. Nine-ball? Winner buys the beers?”

“Man, everything here is free.”

“Who cares? Let’s play. You guys in?

Both Whirlwind and Constrictor agreed to Shocker’s proposal of a game of pool.

“Hey, Mother Russia, you in?” asked Whirlwind of the Black Widow.

“I do not play games with little boys,” she responded, snobbishly.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

---

“Monica, come quick! Take a look at this!” yelled Katherine Pryde.

“All right, Kitty. What’s up?” asked Monica Rambeau, as she approached the console by which Shadowcat stood.

“Read this,” Katherine said, pointing to the screen. Monica turned to the screen and began to read it aloud.

“Phase 1 complete. I have successfully infiltrated the Weapon Plus organization. Administrator Eva (E.V.A.) believes me to be Yelena Belova, the new Black Widow. Expect mission updates whenever possible. Over and out,” Monica said, as she finished reading. Turning back to Kitty, she asked, “How exactly does this thing work again?”

“It’s an extremely new, high-tech chip that’s been implanted into her brain. Undetectable, even to the powerful systems that Weapon Plus controls. She has to verbally say a specific code to activate it, and when she does, her thoughts are transmitted back here to this console and turned into text for us to read,” explained Pryde.

“I see. So what if I want to reply back to her?” Monica questioned.

“Well, you type it into the console, and the chip will transmit it as if it were a psychic message right into her thoughts.”

“Gotcha,” said Monica. “Let me get at that keyboard for a second.”

Monica stepped up to the console and began typing. On the screen appeared a message:

{ Good work, Natasha. }

---