Chapter Text
Mandatory Opening Action Scene. Movie Equivalent of Clickbait.
Bullets hailed thickly from behind the vehicle, somehow none of them touching Deadpool.
{Why was it that these professional baddies with automatic weapons never knew how to use them in these stories anyways?}
He wasn't expecting the attack, so he couldn't do that superhuman bullet dodging thing either. So they were just shitty then.
The merc rolled his eyes. Who was it this time? He guessed it was the sour deal with that gang the “Black Bugs” or whatever finally catching up with him. Really, he expected better from Xiang. He's one of the smart ones, would've thought he'd leave it. Oh well. Hope he doesn't have kids , he thought as he dove for cover behind a parked car.
Deadpool whipped out (haha) a manual from one of his many holsters and peeked around to gauge what he was up against. There were maybe fifteen of them. They had emerged from behind their clearly stolen eighteen wheeler–
[Unless- gasp! It was Libby's canned veggies that was after him]
–and were darting around like it was Call of Duty or somewhere else where it wouldn't be utterly absurd to have some kind of boss battle in an urban area– even a bad neighborhood isn't that bad. One guy even did the Mission Impossible role. What a catch.
"Okay kiddies, you ready for some friendly fire?" he muttered.
Deadpool leaped onto the Subaru Outback he had been crouched behind (Sorry Steve Irwin's slutty cousin with a nine-to-five), guns blazing. He had the upper ground giving him the chance to fire pretty aimlessly into the crowd of goons below him and take some out. Then he jumped atop the heads of two of them, toppling the fleshy platform beneath him. Done and done.
He wheeled around and unleashed the fury on the surrounding gangsters. He administered a swift kick to the head of one who then knocked back hard into another, and they were both out. Talk about killing two birds with one roundhouse. The man became a red blur punching the lights out of anyone who came up behind him, dodging bullets all the while. Since he was in the thick of the fight, he unsheathed his favorite close combat knife, a wicked curved thing like an old Mongol dagger. God, did those guys know how to kill shit. Also fermented mare's milk. He should try that sometime. The mercenary sliced and jabbed and stabbed wildly into bodies all around him.
Fuck! Deadpool looked down at his stinging forearm. It's about damn time they got a shot in. He was starting to pity them.
With enhanced rage, Deadpool reloaded his gun and barreled through bodies in a frenzy. He crouched behind their own truck, waiting for them to line up. Come to daddy. Naturally they split up and closed in on him in formation. At least they could get this basic maneuver.
The baddies peered around the back of the truck and found... nothing. They all glanced around frantically until one caught sight of a red gleam. They all snapped to attention and aimed their weapons at Deadpool from where he now stood atop the eighteen-wheeler.
He shot his hands up. "Take me, but let me keep my dignity. I don't want to have to grow a limb back on the car ride,” he whined. “Oh look– a distraction!"And with that, the truck blew up. The pleather ninja leapt off hard and fast, propelled by a burst of flame, and hit the pavement with bent knees to absorb the shock. #SuperHeroLanding.
“Phew,” he exhaled, looking down at his singed suit, “I do like my buns toasted.” Deadpool looked back at the singed mess behind him, seeing some twitching bodies. White box was complaining about how he could have avoided all this property damage, saying something about disturbing of the peace and “why’d you waste a small remote detonator on this?”– yada yada...
“I’ve been stir-crazy, gimme a break. I’ll uh clean it up? Drop an anonymous deposit to the mayor?” Deadpool mused. He walked home feeling a tad guilty. But, hey, Deadpool didn't have to excuse himself to anone let alone some stupid head-voice anyhow.