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Excuse me.

I got a question.

[There... is a very oddly dressed man on screen. A full body spandex suit with a mask, which on anyone else would look stupid-

It still looks stupid.

But it looks stupid while showcasing the fact that this man is built like a brick shit house and is further more, armed to the teeth. Two katanas sheathed at his back, two guns in the holster, a bandolier filled with ammo, it appears there's a few daggers sheathed around his boots-]

Can I get this necklace in maybe like a vermilion or like maybe a dark sort of galaxy cut ruby?

I got fucking taste here, don't insult me with this garbage.

[And a text later]

Also where the fuck am I and who do I have to shank for a sandwich around here?

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You'll figure it out eventually. Treasure life now while it's uncomplicated.

[It's only matter of time before he gets caught without the mask]

Nah, twenty six was when the Government got involved with my personal health care.

[And that seems to be going unelaborated too!]

I could tell you how you can use a creepy crawlers oven to make meth, but I think someone actually got mad at me the last time I made that joke.

I'm using that as a joke title for my autobiography.

[ take it off ]

Was it Obamacare?

[ the smallest of smirks ]

See, I was only using that to cook up colorful floppy dicks. There's so much to learn.

You think I'm kidding but I'm not.

[NO]

Close but no!

I'd tell you how to do it but some pearl clutching hand wringing baby would storm in here and cry about how I'm ruining today's youth.

If this is life's definition of uncomplicated right now, I'm going to punch the future in the face.

[ s t r i p ]

What was it then? There's some weird superhero origin story in here. Were you held in a secret facility because of radioactive bee stings?

I ain't ever seen that pearl clutch. I'm owed at least thirteen years of "Think of the children!" Someone get on that. We need to assign the job to someone.

Edited 2016-11-06 05:23 (UTC)

Trust me it could totally be more complicated.

Y'know that would actually be slightly more preferable.

Okay, so I'm gonna think about you right now and ask you why the hell you're so interested in my pecs.

Aren't there any jacked sixteen year olds around here?

I know it could but fuck that. You basically just told me that life is on a decline and everything is going to get shittier due to a steady increase of shenanigans.

[ wait. can he tell he's staring behind these shades? uh-oh. ] I'm not interested in your pecs. I just pointed them out as a dude interested in fashion. You're wearing a catsuit.

I think there's a monkey with abs around but other than that, nope.

Well that's just life, you peak at 23 and then it's all down hill and you die naked and screaming like you were born.

[YEAH OKAY]

Okay. Don't worry. I believe you.

Hell no. I was born hurtling through space with a pony while clad in a diaper. I'm going out that way.

That can't be comfortable. How are you not picking a wedgie every two minutes?

Well.

[He does actually turn to inspect his ass, and Dave gives a nice, moments long sight of Wade's butt in the suit.

Do you see any panty lines?]

... Trade secret.

[ oh ]

Uh.

Anyway. Who are you supposed to be?

Deadpool.

Are you some kind of super hero or is that really just your pyjamas.

Like when you take bets on which celebrity is going to croak? So that's morally questionable spandex. Got it.

Neither. It's my mandatory tracksuit for my role as bigshot douchebag DJ. My bling is off getting polished right now, so I understand your confusion.

I'll have you know I've been making bank since 2016 started.

But how can you be a douchebag DJ without the mandatory permanent grill?

Wait. Who is dying in 2016?

My grill is made out of pearls.

Everyone. Prince, Gene Wilder, so on.

Well that's not as cool.

Is that just the start of the rapture list?

The ironic value of having pearls as the pearly whites elevates it above the depreciating value of the gold grill. In this economy, it's superior.

Well yeah. Trump's running for president too, so we might be living in the Pluto Nash universe at some point.

Is the ironic part of it having no one know you had parts of your real teeth drilled out and replaced with a material that's still technically biodegradable and will eventually rot away to mush inside your mouth under the constant wear and tear of food and digestive enzymes?

That's too edgy for me.

Maybe my universe ended on a high-note.

Get on my level, Deadpool.

I guess I'm too basic for your universe, man.

I'll overlook it for now.

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