Posts tagged ‘agency x’

June 27, 2009

Hey! I, Bob, actually get to answer questions now! Wow!

H-Hey everybody! Bob, Agent of HY–, er, I mean, President of Mr. Wilson’s Fan Club, here! Hail Mr. Wilson! Mr. Wilson (who also goes by Deadpool, of course) has finally let me out of the kitchen long enough to answer all the amazingly wonderful questions you nice, kind, fantastic people have sent in to show how much you like me and want to hear from me. Aiieeeeek!!!

Oops. Sorry! I thought I saw a mouse, and I had to deploy HYDRA Strategic Maneuver #301, Squeaking Like A Rodent And Jumping On The Couch, which, you know, when I think about it, wouldn’t squeaking like a rodent when you see a rodent maybe be like you were doing a mating call or something? Which would attract the rodent? Huh. Well maybe not. I mean, I guess…I guess HYDRA knows best. After Mr. Wilson, of course.

Mr. Wilson’s so great. He’s been trying to teach me some new tricks, like Holding A Katana, and Pointing A Gun, and Not Running From Fists, and Throwing A Grenade After Remembering To Pull Out The Pin, but I don’t think I’m getting along as fast as he’d like. (Alison always did say I was a bit slow. I thought she was talking about my chewing, though. You know, it’s important to chew a bite 42 times before you swallow. Especially if you don’t have a good medical plan that covers choking and things.) Mr. Wilson shouts a lot after a few minutes of lessons, and last week he put his fist through the Agency wall again after I hid behind his desk for the 52nd time. But he’s so nice that he is still trying to help me learn. I mean, he says it’s because at the level I am at now I’m “more dangerous ta others than a pigeon who’s just eaten a big meal’a C4 an’ perched on yer shoulder,” but he’s always saying things like that. I don’t know why the only HYDRA training classes I ever excelled in besides hiding were the ones like Killer Baking 101, Poisonous Puddings 265, Sharp Salads 322, and Arsenic Hors d’oeuvres 436, but Mr. Wilson lets me practice my cooking and baking a lot, because he also says we should “play ta our strengths an’ surprise the enemy.” Last week he surprised an enemy with some of my Myoporum Muffins (Delicious and Deadly!). He said they worked like a witch’s charm. I was very proud.

So I guess I should answer questions now, huh? Oh, except I have to tell you something else I’m so proud of: Mr. Wilson told me I could be President of his Fan Club!!! I mean, I had to cling to his ankle and beg for awhile while he dragged me around the office like a leg weight, but then he said ok! So now I am President Bob! Alison would be so proud, if she still answered my calls.

As President, I feel I have certain duties to Mr. Wilson, so I’ve been looking around to see what people are saying about him. And it turns out, Mr. Wilson has LOTS of fans. (Who should all become members of the Official Fan Club of which I am the President, of course. There is A Button that you can buy once you are An Official Member. There is also A Secret Handshake, once I figure out the rest of it. If you want to join, I think it’s ok with Mr. Wilson if you comment here with your email address. I am not sure what I will do with your email address, except maybe send you a link to A Button You Can Buy And Wear To Show You Are Official. But I am sure I will figure out other things to do with it. I won’t sell it to anybody, though. I promise!)

Anyway, as Fan Club President, I think now would be a good time to mention some of the amazing fans out there who have been doing all kinds of neat things in honor of Mr. Wilson.

Links to Neat Mr. Wilson-Related Things

I think maybe Mr. Wilson already mentioned these first two before, but just in case, I will mention them again:

The Deadpool Bugle is the place where you can read ALL the news on where Mr. Wilson will be appearing and what people are saying about him. It also has a Twitter feed.

Deadpool and Friends is where you can watch YouTube videos that are mostly about Mr. Wilson. The person who runs it also has Twitter.

And here are some I don’t think Mr. Wilson mentioned yet:

I’m a Marvel…and I’m a DC. Here at the Agency, we love ItsJustSomeRandomGuy, but I don’t think we’ve mentioned him before. So now I will! You should all watch every single one of his videos because they are all amazing. AND now Mr. Wilson is in several of them, too. Here are the ones he is in so far:

Hi, I’m a Marvel…and I’m a DC: Wolverine (Deadpool) and Watchmen

Hi, I’m a Marvel…and I’m a DC: Wolverine Heroes and Watchmen Heroes

Marvel and DC Keep on Trekkin’ (Marvel/DC/Star Trek Parody)

Marvel/DC/Terminator Salvation Parody

Marvel/DC: The Hangover, Up, and Drag Me To Hell Parodies

Marvel and DC Talk Transformers (Marvel/DC/Transformers 2 Revenge of the Fallen Parody)

Yay, RandomGuy and RandomGal! (And RandomCat!)

What Would Deadpool Do? is by a couple of Mr. Wilson’s fans who have made what I think is called a “mash-up” of Star Wars and Deadpool comics (not to be confused with my Monkshood Mashed Potatoes). As they say on TV Tropes, when you put two wacky things like that together, Hilarity Ensues.

ScarletVulture’s Comics show some of Mr. Wilson’s “unofficial” adventures. They are very, very good. I wish I could draw like that. But I can’t. Oh well. At least I can bake!

The Merc With A Mouth Files page contains some of Mr. Wilson’s information on some of the many, many people Mr. Wilson has interacted with in the course of his important work. Of course, it might not have all of the classified info. But that’s because if Mr. Wilson told us that, he’d have to kill us. At least, that’s what he’s always telling me.

Kyle Robinson Customs is a place where you can get little dollies action figures of Mr. Wilson and other people he knows. The guy who runs this site is a big fan of Mr. Wilson, so he has many different versions of Mr. Wilson’s costume and things for people to choose from. I only have 6 so far, but I’m hoping to collect a few more!

The Deadpool Forum is a pretty cool new place for people to go and talk about Mr. Wilson and comics and other things. Mr. Wilson’s Number One Fan (but not President of the Fan Club, that’s me!), foresthouse, joins in the conversations over there sometimes.

And I think that’s all the links I have for now. If you know of other good fan places, you should let me know so I can put them in the Official Fan Club Files.

And now I really will answer your questions. Mr. Wilson says that since seven isn’t much more than five I can answer all seven of the questions people asked me! Let’s see, how does Mr. Wilson usually do this? Oh. Oh right.

youtubedeadpool writes:

Wow! Hey thanks for the shout out! It is greatly appreciated. I shall repay you with a question for Bob and some authentic New Mexican food if you ever come this way.

Question for Bob:
If you could kick any three people square in the nuts and get away with it, who would it be?

Gee, I’m not sure we’ve gotten to the Kicking People In The Nuts part of our training yet, although I know Mr. Wilson is an expert at that. I guess I will just have to use my imagination and pretend I am skilled in that so that I can imagine who I might want to use that skill on. Huh. And also I will have to imagine that my therapist did not tell me not to release my anger at myself and Alison towards other people, and to be tranquil like a babbling brook and all of that.

OK. OK, I think I’ve got it. The first would be L. Ron Hubbard. I mean, I know he’s not alive, but if I had a time machine as well as a way to get away with kicking people, I would definitely kick Hubbard for making a cult out of a bunch of science fiction stories. I mean, not only does that give nice science fiction writers a bad name, but Alison’s uncle Stewy sent all his money to those stupid Scientologists and he was still a crazy drunk who ended up falling off a trolley car and dying. I blame Hubbard. And also, what kind of a name is L. Ron?

I guess I’d also use my time machine to kick Michael Jackson’s dad. A lot. He sounds like one mean evil man.

And I guess if I was ABSOLUTELY assured of no consequences…I’d kick APOCALYPSE in the nuts. Just because I could!

And now I have to do my breathing exercises for a minute. My therapist wouldn’t like me getting all excited like this.


designatedhero wrote:

What was there not to like about Wild Wild West? Overly-elaborate death traps, campy villains, super awesome trains, Ulysses S. Grant?!

Anyway, onto Bob:

Let’s face it Bob, you throw like a girl. You ever considered getting lessons? Maybe going to a baseball game and taking some notes?

I liked Wild Wild West, personally. But don’t tell Mr. Wilson I said that!

Gee, Mr. Hero, I’m really flattered that you think I am such a good sportsperson. Alison was an All-Star League pitcher back in our hometown, and I never thought I was as good as her in the throwing department, even though she really, really tried to teach me. I guess I do throw a lot like Alison did, but then, she used to strike out a lot of people every game, so I thought that was a good thing. Huh. I guess I could go to a baseball game sometime and see how other people do it. But I bet most of them aren’t as good as my Alison is. Was. Is still. Even if she’s not really my Alison anymore. You know what I mean.

isntthatfancy asks:

Dear Bob Agent of Hydra,

The other day I had a math test that I’d consciously chosen not to study for. I didn’t want my teacher to think I was stupid though, so when I came upon a problem that I just couldn’t figure out, I filled in the answer blank with something I did know about: The history of Russia. A whole essay on it.

For some reason I didn’t get any points, not even for effort! Oh Bob, with all your great knowledge, could you possibly tell me something that would have been a better topic? What would you deem worthy of points despite being not-math?

Dear Fancy Person,

I would think an essay on the art of stealth combat cookery would have impressed your teacher very much, to the point where he or she would have given you an A+. I mean, stealth combat cookery is a very exact kind of cookery – it really has to be done right, and you have to be very meticulous about measuring your seasonings and making little spaces for explosives to be hidden and getting the doses for the poisons right and all of that. And certainly after you wrote the section on How To Make Apples Grizwald, I am sure your teacher would be very, very impressed.

trashjack wants to know:

Dear Bob, Agent of HYDRA,

What the hell did Deadpool do to you? You know, when you two first met, and he was tiny for some reason (probably involving Pym Particles or the Rhino; I never knew what happened immediately before that adventure). When he threatened you with your own HYDRA ID card, you said that because he was so minuscule, he could not harm you. You clearly ended up being very wrong about that, but I want to know HOW wrong. What on earth did he do to you with that card? And why did you look unhurt after that?

Dear Mr. Jack,

Mr. Wilson is very, very tricky and smart in a very unique way that I like to call “The Deadpool Way.” It is very practical, kind of like The Way of Mrs Cosmopilite, but in a completely different Way. As in not so logical, just practical. And one of the practical things I learned from Mr. Wilson when he had my ID card in hand is that even tiny people, if they know where to push with a sharp plastic corner, can cut your eyeball right in half. At least, that’s sort of something like what he told me in his tiny voice right before I decided I didn’t want to find out if he was one of the people who knew where to push. My Way includes the maxim, “Don’t do anything stupid that could get you killed.” And that would include disobeying Mr. Wilson, who could clearly get me killed in many, many ways. People who follow my Way might not have the most fun, but they usually have the longest lives!

lady_of_mists wonders:


How would *you* go about keeping people in a hospital from waking you up every forty-five minutes during the night shift? Please remember that there are no locks on any of the doors (even the bathrooms!) and that this hypothetical hospital room is on the sixth floor.

All the best,


Dear Lady,

This one is easy. I would ask Mr. Wilson to go and make sure no one woke me up unless it was important to my own personal health that they do so. And then I would offer him money so he would do what I asked him to. He is very conscientious about doing what someone asks when he is being given money for it. Sometimes. Which is why I would also offer him the money in several parts, with the last bit being given to him after my release from the hospital.

And people say I am not smart!

benicio127 says:

DP! And Bob, Agent of Hydra Hail HYDRA! Answering questions!
How fabulous.

Question for Bob, Agent of Hydra Hail HYDRA!
Let’s say you’re in a desert and a scary dude walks up to you. Your training is to hide, but where do you hide? Do you stick your head in the sand like an ostrich? Burrow underground like a marmot? Make like tumbleweed and roll away?
Do tell!

Well, Benicio (Benicio del Toro, is that you? OMG I’m such a fan!), I will tell you that even in the desert a clever hiding operative can find plenty of places to hide. For instance, in our HYDRA manual, all of the illustrations of deserts had a big cactus in them to show that it was a desert situation. Since I am not a beefy man, I am sure I could hide behind a cactus with only minimal pain and tiny pricks to the skin. Also, in HYDRA Hiding School, we were taught that with the right willpower, humans can make themselves really, really flat. Like a hamster! So in a desert situation, I might lie down and sprinkle some sand over myself and then make myself really, really flat, thus looking like merely a Bob-shaped hillock of sand! The scary dude would never even know I was there! And of course, there is the age old run-and-hide-behind-a-sand-dune method. Most deserts have little hills and things. Once you are behind one, you can burrow in pretty quickly, given a sharp implement and the right level of fear as a motivator.

Nope, the desert would not pose a-ny problem at all, when it came to me and hiding! I am sure of it.

And now, one last question:

writerbunny asks:

Bob, Agent of HYDRA HAIL HYDRA!:

If you could go anywhere in the world on a week’s holiday, where would you go?

Ooh! Ooh! That reminds me, Mr. Wilson promised me that next week I could finally go on that holiday he told me I could have two years ago. OOOH. And I know exactly where I am going, too. Geneva, Switzerland! I think it is probably the least likely place in the whole world where anyone would be shooting at me, trying to stab me, or even yelling at me. I can’t WAIT!

And, well, I think that’s all the questions you wonderful, lovely fans asked me. So I guess here is where I must leave you! But maybe Mr. Wilson will let me do this again sometime. It was fun, being out of the kitchen for awhile and answering your questions! I hope you had fun reading my answers, too!


Bob, President of Mr. Wilson’s Fan Club Hail Mr. Wilson!

March 5, 2009

Merc Werc Part III: If I had a nickel for every team that’s kicked me out…

Y’know what’s awesome about havin’ a healing factor? Even the biggest headache in the universe (ya know, the kind that happens after seein’ somethin’ like this) goes away in no time flat. Which is good, ’cause I just remembered I gotta post the latest installment of Merc Werc: The Deadpool Way. Yep, that’s right! I did another chapter, just fer you lucky kids!

But first, Helpful Linkage:

Merc Werc: The Deadpool Way? What the heck is that?

Merc Werc Part I: The Importance of Being…Prepared

Merc Werc Part II: What To Do When You’re Totally Screwed

And now…

Holla Atcha All! Take 3

If I had a nickel for every team that’s kicked me out…

15. If ya end up on a team’a X-Feebs, don’t be intimidated. They put their pants on one leg at a time, too. ‘Cept for Nightcrawler, a’course.FN 2

FN 2: ‘Cause’a his tail, y’know? And then there’s Shadowcat. Bet she just phases into ’em. And out of ’em. Rrowr!

16. If yer team roster is an immortal idiot, a gay flat dude, a skinny chick who wants t’be fat, a human teleporter, and a dinosaur…laugh.

17. And then check fer little black goatees, ’cause you may have accidentally ended up in an evil universe. You should be so lucky.

18. If some fancy-schmancy law firm with a lotta Ls in the name comes recruiting you fer their “savin’ th’ world team,” RUN. Trust me on this.

19. Never blow up a dude on yer team. He might come back 10 years later lookin’ really creepy and end up bein’ a real pain in the tookus.

20. If y’end up facing a psychotic midget version of yerself in yer first team-up book, just shake yer fist and yell, “Curse you, Joe Kelly!”

21. If yer lucky enough to get a call from Heroes for Hire, get the money up front and then try not t’laugh at the little yellow slippers.

22. If y’volunteer fer the team that used ta work with that feeb Cable, hang around until they say “Time to break out a frosty new SIX PACK.”FN 3

FN 3: Trust me. It never gets any less funny. Those mooks are cheesier than a stadium full’a Packers fans eating cheeseburgers.

23. When the mutant savior’a the world, who also happens to be yer best bud/mortal enemy, says t’lobotomize him, don’t. Everyone’ll hate ya.

24. Sometimes ya get lucky. If yer team’s got a hot mutant cowgirl in a skimpy shirt: NEVER LEAVE. Even if ya gotta put up with a big fat guy.FN 4


And there it is, my frolicksome fans! Another volume’a wisdom in a small package, comin’ at ya from the Fortress of Cool. Where we’re outta Twinkies. AND DEVIL DOGS. That bastard.

January 28, 2009

In-a-Gadda-da-Vida dey had good apples. Yah.

Great galumphing gazpacho on a grizzly! Am I glad to be here instead of hangin’ out in the pages of yet another Pool’o’vision-heavy storyline! *grumble grr rassumfrassum Pool’o’vision* But I gotta say, the Agency has gotten real dirty while I was out doing Secret Things with Secret People all those months. Clearly Agent X is gettin’ more bored than usual with the whole not-getting-to-do-anything-ever-because-fat-characters-aren’t-cool-unless-they’re-named-Kingpin thing. He’s gone and turned one half of the lobby into a crazy-ass shooting range, complete with whacked-out rubber duckies in a row (and doesn’t #4 look a lot like someone we know?). Remind me to clock him one for the giant poster of me with bullet holes in the head.

But enough about that crazy s.o.b.! We got more important things to talk about. Like how, finally, after more procrastination than twelve Marvel writers on a deadline, I’m gonna answer me some questions! (Please, please, hold your applause until the end.)

So starting from the very ancient and moving forward…

slothfulsamoyed writes:

Dear Deadpool:

I do know how you love numbered questions. However my driving need for nonconformity means that they’ll be Roman numerals.

I. Only a few months ago did I actually start paying for the privilege of reading your comics (blame scan communities), and I regret nothing. But something really bothers me. The last two volumes of Cable & Deadpool cost, like, five dollars more than the rest. That might not seem like a lot to a merc with as much work as you get but I’m an art student, so my comic budget is pretty small. So what’s up with the sudden hike in price?

II. My friends and I are constantly arguing over the fact that some of us preferred The Dark Knight and some preferred Iron Man. Which movie did you enjoy more?

III. Why does your costume keep changing? I mean, how many different ways can there be to strap two swords to your back? Seriously. This is a pain to keep track of.

Oohh, Roman numeralled questions. You sure know how to appeal to a guy with classy taste – like me! Now then, lessee here…

I. Well, my furry little friend (and speaking’a that, get your cold nose outta my armpit while I’m tryin’ t’type, willya?) there’s a real simple answer t’that. The truth’a the matter is, guns are expensive, not even counting the endless ammo I need so I can do what I do best (yeah, yeah, tagline copyright infringement blah-de-blee. Bite me, Wolverine). And big guns are really expensive. So I bet you can imagine how much Liefeld-sized guns cost. And that’s just the beginning. After all the guns and ammo me an’Cable need, you got’cher grenades, yer knives, yer hand-crafted heavy-duty landmines, yer katana-handle-grip-tape (what the heck is that stuff called, anyway?), yer switchblades, yer Vaseline, yer crossbows, yer grappling hooks, yer fuzzy handcuffs, yer…well, you get the idea. The point is: Merc werc? It don’t come cheap. And what happened, see, is that suddenly, all our favorite suppliers showed up at the office to collect, and Cable and his wallet were off saving the world or whatever, and I’d just got back from Vegas (yeah, baby), and Nicole and Fabian and Reilly and the whole happy bunch’a mooks who chronicled The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay Cable and Deadpool realized that they were, erm, a bit short’a cold hard cash to pay the piper. So: price hike! ‘Cause it was either that or Fabian lost a hand, Reilly lost an eye, and Nicole lost…well, they decided it’d be better to pay is all I’ll say.

There. Now wasn’t that a simple answer?

II. Ooh, now this is a toughie, doomed to inspire endless debates, just like the age-old question of who has more spine, Weasel or a jellyfish. But personally, I gotta say, I don’t see why we can’t just all get along and agree that Batman and Iron Man would totally be drinking buddies if the mooks over at Marvel and DC headquarters ever decided to get crazy and make that crossover happen. I mean, think about it: two rich miserable geniuses with messed-up psyches and way more gadgets than any grown man strictly needs. They could sit around all day moping about their problems and comparing Bat-a-rangs and shoulder-mounted missiles. It’d be an emo friendship made in heaven. Don’t believe me? Just watch this.

III. We do it just to piss you off. POW!

And on we go.

chrryblssmninja asks:

1) What big-name fashion designer would you model for?

2) If you were in the Olympics, what sport(s?) would you compete in, how many medals would you get, and what international judging scandal would probably arise?

Numbered questions: they make my world go round!

1) Well, my sweet li’l cherry pie, for this one I’d have to say Narciso Rodriguez. After all, his designs are red and black and scary all over, which fits me to a T. A’course, he’d have to go a lot less girly before I’d wear his gear, but, hey, I just bet with a proper (and sharp) incentive, he could make it happen. And you all know I’d look stunning.

2) Oh, ya know I’d rock the house at table tennis. I’d be all up in those judges’ faces, like, “WHO’S FORREST GUMP TO YA NOW, FEEBS? And they’d be so wowed they’d give me all three medals. And the ones from curling, since it isn’t really a sport anyway. It’s just something the Scots used to do between reaving to keep warm. And I guess I’d go out for judo, too, just for kicks. I always like the easy A’s. As for scandals, the real scandal would be when I challenged the entire judo-judgin’ panel to a knock-down drag-out fight and they ran away crying like babies. Ohh, yeah.

Ooh, would ya look at the time? It’s half past time for me to go kick some ass on another secret mission that you won’t be reading about because Way only writes about the ones with zombies in ‘em.

So until next time, keep ‘em locked, cocked, and ready to rock!

October 6, 2008

Great googly Galactus, I’m hungry! Get me some gazpacho!

What up, my mighty Marvel maenads? Well, ok, maybe you’re not maenads, but they sure sound like fun, don’t they? Like the kinda gal Wolverine would take for a romantic-but-bloody romp in the woods? Hey, I wonder if we could mail-order some of ‘em to hang around the office all scantily-clad and stuff. Give it that subtle touch of Early Greek Brothel and Nad– Madhouse. I bet ol’ WB would LOVE that! Maybe when it’s my turn to decorate…

Oh! Yeah, nearly forgot why I’m on the ol’ blog today. It’s because of this here Official Announcement I’ve just been handed. Seems the editors have been gettin’ a lot of confused letters from feebs who want to know why this journal ain’t “in continuity” or some $#!*. These mooks keep insisting that I’m not workin’ at the Agency right now (oh YEAH? Then who was it stole Cap’s TEENY WINGS, you answer me that?!) and that I’m actually killin’ Skrulls or some wacky thing. Which, actually…I am. Well, you know how it goes with comics these days – those wacko writers don’t never know the half of what’s REALLY going on – and the truth of it is, I been livin’ a little bit’a the double life since the Skrulls came to town. Half the time at the Agency, half the time freelancin’ for the Skrulls with a secret agenda of my own. (I do have a teleporter, y’know.) But I couldn’t talk about it before ‘cause, see, it was a secret agenda. That’s just how those things work!

But now that the cat’s outta the bag AND we’re gettin’ so many whiny complaints, the editors told me I’d better announce that from now on, along with the 12 million questions I already got backlogged and cloggin’ up the spittoons around here (yeah, I don’t know either. This week was Outlaw’s turn to decorate, and she says “it don’t feel like home without spittoons.” But whatever, they’re handy to store letters in) I’ll also be answerin’ questions about Skrulls, Secret Plans, and P– Poo– ah, geez— “Pool-o-vision,” shutupshutupshutUP. So, y’know, send me your questions on Those Pesky Green Dudes; How I Made Them All Commit Hari-Kari; What’s Up With That Guy Way; and stuff a’ that sort, and I’ll do my best to answer ‘em. Eventually.

And now, I’m gonna go find me some lunch. Until next time, keep ‘em locked an’ loaded!

P.S. Coming soon: Actual answers to questions that are probably over two months old by now! Hey, I’VE BEEN BUSY. Feebs.

September 19, 2008

Batten Down th’ Hatches and Blow th’ Man Down! Arrrrrrrr! Rrrrr! Rrr! R!

Ahoy, thar, mateys! Weigh anchor and hoist th’ mizzen! Today be th’ day when all faithful buccaneers must Talk Like a Pirate, and ye know I must be following what th’ captain orders! So t’day, all yer bonny questions’ll be answered in the best pirate-speak that mercenary money can buy! Er somethin’ a’that nature, anyway.

Just in case ya scurvy dogs want to know what th’ crew’s been doin’ today, I SHALL TELL YE. Unlike a coupla days ago when I posted my lonely ballad a’woe, every last one a’those worthless seadogs in my profile is on deck at th’ Agency t’day. Even the faithless dog I never figured would be stridin’ th’ boards a’this vessel showed up fer a pint a’grog. I almost made ‘im walk the plank fer bein’ a low-down, dirrrty deserter, but chose to be a charitable captain and let him try some’a Bob’s special brew instead. Avast! Ye should ha’ seen his yaller eye glow as he choked on it! (Bob’s getting partic’ly good at Arsenic Limeade and Cyanide Stew these days! He’s always muckin’ about in th’ galley now.) I asked the scurrrvy varmint what he’s been doin’ with hisself since we divorced he went off t’find a different berth t’call his own, but he just looked all sorts a’serious and mumbled somethin’ vague ‘bout ‘babies.’ He didn’t stay long even though I offered him a place on th’ crew but said mayhap he’d be comin’ back through this patch’a sea soon and that he missed me like the dickens, that pansy feeb. I bade him ‘good riddance’ and downed a pint meself.

After that shockin’ happenstance, Orca X climbed back on board after a three-day shore leave. He’d been out practicin’ his cookin’ ‘cause th’ feeb wants to be on The Iron Chef. Apparently th’ booty fer winnin’ is now a lifetime supply a’victuals, but I don’t reckon Orca will make it to the treasure, even if there is an X in his name – all’a that fat gets in the way a’speedy cookin’.

Now that he’s back t’sitting on th’ couch, Outlaw and that feeb WB have deserted that berth fer the lobby. Methinks they’re playin’ tiddlywinks on the floor right now, ‘cause they’re a coupla crazy kids. And splice my mainsail, but me bonny lass Sandi’s gone a bit crazy as well! She’s waltzin’ around in a raggedy stripey skirt an’ eyepatch askin’ me iffen I want t’play some “special pirate games.” I dunno why she wants me t’tie her up and pretend she’s my pris’ner, but Weasel said he’d be game if I’m too lame. Me! Lame! Arrrrr! So now he’s a’followin’ her around and beggin’ her t’ ‘shiver his timbers,’ th’ fool.

In th’ middle a’all this, Irene stopped by, (woman’s got a sixth sense fer whenever Cable’s been in th’ vicinity) and kicked me ‘cause I hadn’t called her when the shiny mook came by. I suggested she’d better just hang around in my bed me until he came back, since we all know Priscilla can’t stay away from yarrrrs truly fer long, but she just kicked me again.

Right about then, Tasky wandered in, twelve sheets t’th’ wind (i.e. as drunk as a bedbug in a whisky fact’ry), and I realized there was ONE thing we were missin’ here at the office on Talk Like a Pirrrrrate Day. So I got lil’ Mary-O to give me a hand, and we hoisted ol’ Tasky up the yardarm outside so’s we could use his skelly little face as the middle of our new pirate flag. Tasky makes a fair bonny Jolly Roger, a’though he’d be a good sight bonnier if he didn’t look so gloomy all th’ time!

But hoist me up the mizzen mast and use me as a sail if it’s not time to be answerin’ some questions!

Let’s go to th’ mail ship and see what she’s a-brought us t’day.

Blimey! half_attended writes:

Dear Deadpool,

A close friend/person I am forced to deal with on an unfortunately regular basis is being a bit of a tyrant. It’s always her way or no way, even in matters she has no say over. She had a little power and it’s all gone to her head. Should my friends and I handle this internally, or should we outsource our rebellion?

Also, where do you get your costumes? And do you buy in bulk because you go through them so quickly?

Avast ye! I always say th’ best way t’handle uppity folks and mutiny in the crew is t’hire a strappin’ fine mercenary t’do yer dirrrrty work! And I just happen t’know a few who’re in th’ market. But if ye want t’handle it yerself, here’s a wee tip: th’ best approach is a direct approach. So drag yon bucko down to th’ brig, sit ‘er in the bilges, and explain t’her in kind, calm terms that unless she gets her arse offa her high horsie and starts lookin’ at ye more respectful-like, yer gonna have to, much as it breaks yer wee heart, keelhaul ‘er an’ send ‘er down t’shake hands with Davy Jones; th’ scallywag. I guarantee that’ll set the lassie straight!

As fer where I get me rig-and-getup, if me memory serves me right (and when don’t it, ‘cept always?), ‘twas at a custom costume shop, made ‘specially t’fit me manly’n’muscular physique. It was def’nitely not made outta Spider-man’s old cast-offs, that bilge-sucking arachnid! But what is this ‘buy’ of which ye do discourse? A cap’n like meself darsn’t lay down good doubloons fer what c’n be hornswaggled outta little pansy shopkeeps! Savvy?

Now, on t’th’ next bit o’scrap and words.

rozokuthedragon replies to me last post:

dude your never alone when you have us around
but I have to ask how “Orca” X made it out the door?

Ah, me hearty, th’ fat landlubber deflated some after his disgustin’ love affair with chips’n’applesauce came t’an unsightly end, but really it was th’ grenade I lobbed at WB a coupla days ago that did it. Didn’t leave a mark on that son of a biscuit eater, but our doorway got a whole lot bigger.

Arrr! Sandi’s callin’ fer me t’come ‘n’ batten down th’ hatches ‘cause a storm’s a-comin’ through, so until next time, lasso a big bag a’pieces of eight and heave-ho that booty on board!

(And if ye be confused by th’ local lingo, check out this handy translation of me pirate prattle.)