Posts tagged ‘weasel’

March 14, 2010

Remember When I Dressed Like Ant Man? Good Times.

OK, so you feebs are gonna die when ya hear this:

I’m in th’ supermarket (le supermarchet!) in France, ’cause I got this megamajor cravin’ fer some Snackes Au Francais (that’s French munchies ta you unedumacated feebs) an’ this dude comes up to me all, “Zut alors, mon ami! Etes-vous DEADPOOL?” an’ I’m all whippin’ out the heavy artillery ’cause ya know, guys comin’ up ta me ta ask who I am usually wanna kill me, an’ he kinda reminds me a’the guy who’s uncle I mighta maybe snuffed a few weeks ago — an’ then he goes, “Mais oui! Je t’adore! J’aime les questions auxquelles vous répondez sur le Twitter!” An’ then? He bought me all my snacks. SCORE.

So, random French dude who’s name was probably Pierre ’cause ev’ry French person is named Pierre: this one’s fer you!

Asked and Answered in 140 Characters Er Less

Part V: The Havartian Decade (When all th’ questions were soft an’ cheesy, an’ all th’ answers were delicious. Woo! (This decade has not yet been officially recognized by the International Commission on Stratigraphy, which I totally did not make up.))

@lastgeek asks: Is there anything you wouldn’t do for money?

@lastgeek Yeah, I wouldn’t fry a Smurf w/a magnifying glass (ScarletVulture, WHATUP I’d do that sh*t for FREE.

@bunnnn asks: what can I do to train and kick butt like you do cause im only a small bunny but your really cool!!!!!!!!!!!!

@bunnnn Oldest trick in th’ book, wee furry creature: file those l’il teeth a’yers until they’re SHARP and POINTY! An’ then hide in a cave

RT @bunnnn – @ask_deadpool is tellin us a story about how he kicked captain america in the nads to get aliens out

RT @bunnnn – now @ask_deadpool is tellin me how my brass knuckles look like crepes I didnt know how to spell it

@bunnnn Sweet, little vorpal bunny! I like these. 🙂

@gjrkow asks: that cuz he was not allowed to talk when he was u at the end??? they messed u up big time but maybe they do betta next time

@gjrkow Hellz yeah that’s why! Those fools din’t know what 2 do w/a good thing. WHERE’S MY LAWYER CALL HER IN HERE Oh hey She-hulk whatup?

@jenvargas asks: What do you think of @NASA?

@jenvargas I’ve been ta space. It’s kinda creepy out there sometimes. @NASA & the astronauts are killer-cool fer going up there alla time.

@jenvargas P.S. Have you heard my new band, @NASA and the Astronauts?

@jenvargas It’s me an’ Domino, a guitar, a bass, an’ a hamster on a wheel. #TRUFAX

@jenvargas P.S. Sometimes Rorschach does guest vocals, but we can’t get ‘im ta read th’ lyrics in full sentences. Crazy little man.

@jenvargas: @Ask_Deadpool That’s pretty cool, DP! I’ll bet you guys would kick Harry & the Potters’ butt in a Battle of the Bands!

@jenvargas Yeah, but I dunno ’bout Draco & the Malfoys. They might emo us ta death.

@I_Tenacious asks: Here’s one. Why the hell did Marvel set up another account for you if they/you aren’t doing jack with it?

@I_Tenacious WHO TO THE WHAT NOW? Where is this villain of whom you speaketh. Eth.


@I_Tenacious Thanks dude. …OH COME ON NOW, THIS AIN’T FAIR. If he don’t post somethin’, how can I reply an’ tell ‘im ta GET LOST.

@I_Tenacious Hey man, what’s th’ point’a havin minions if ya can’t get’em ta do yer work for ya. EVERYBODY TELL @RealDeadpool I’M TH’ BEST


GO MINIONS GO! RT @bunnnn @RealDeadpool i like @Ask_Deadpool hes tha best!!!!

@RealDeadpool BEWARE MY MINIONS WITH THEIR SHARP. POINTY. TEETH. (snicker-snack; snicker-snack. @bunnnn will getchya!)

@Jebroney says: id REALLY love it if there was a chance of u teaming up with weasel again…i miss poolboy 😦

@Jebroney Ya know, I think we need ta go storm th’ writers’ lair, ’cause I got a few suggestions as ta my supportin’ cast myself!

@ToughTom asks: Why is it all the other Deadpools on twitter are so sorry?

@ToughTom Cause all the other ones are pale copies of xeroxes of mimeographs of tracing-paper drawings of th’ REAL me. Which is ME. #TRUFAX

@RedHeartTart asks: Do you think you could take on Freddy Krueger?

@RedHeartTart Psshya, what’re ya, kiddin’ me? He can’t even leave town! You can beat him just by not being afraid! An’ I’m not afraid a’him

@gil_garcia asks: have you seen the Proposal yet?

@gil_garcia Yes. #ryanreynolds is SO DREAMY. Jus’ like me! That’s why he’ll be perfect ta play me soon.

@krazynate05 asks: What would @Ask_Deadpool do if a guy kissed your chick on the cheek even if the 2 are friends?

@krazynate05 HAHAHAHAHA show me th’ guy who’s nuts enough ta do that. MY BABE, DUDES. THAT MEANS BACK OFF. *grenade toss*

@bairdduvessa asks: does that meam you won’t get me Sandi’s number?

@bairdduvessa Hmm, not sure, dude. Do you have shifty eyes? A tendency ta beat women? If not, I might maybe could consider it. 😉

@bairdduvessa: @ask_deadpool neither.

@bairdduvessa Weeeeellllll, I’ll see if she wants ta share. 😉

@EdWaRdSgIrL4 asks: is ryan reynolds as good and cute in the proposal as in wolverine ??

@EdWaRdSgIrL4 CUTER. HE GETS NAKED which I totally didn’t watch because I am into women. Only women. Hot women. In conclusion: WOMEN.

@JLopezCostume asks: Deadpool/Transformers Michael Baysplosion Crossover, y/y?

@JLopezCostume Oh HELL no. Michael Bay? *makes warding sign* Who did The Dark Knight CAN I GET THAT PERSON?

@JLopezCostume: @Ask_Deadpool what if Michael Bay explodes too? Someone will pay to see that!

@JLopezCostume Only if Optimus Prime falls on ‘im outta the clear blue sky afterwards. ‘Cause that’d be kinda funny.

@I_Tenacious asks: Hey, did we ever get rid of that other jerk?

@I_Tenacious Nah, he;s still hangin’ around, not sayin’ a word. But I don’ care. We all know who the REAL “RealDeadpool” is: ME.

@I_Tenacious Actually, I figured out who that feeb is: he’s th’ version a’me from the FOX movie: aka Not Cool Deadpool.

@I_Tenacious That’s why he ain’t talkin’ – HIS MOUTH’S STILL SEWN SHUT. Hahahahaha.

@BuddhaBBuddhism asks: Ive read just about every deadpool comic (that i know of) But when does he get the other extra voices??

@BuddhaBBuddhism The voices are tellin’ me somethin’ about some dude named Daniel…Way…and salad tossing…Wolvie? Is that you??

@BuddhaBBuddhism Oh wait. Now th’ other voice is sayin’ somethin’ about tired gimmicks…HEY NOW. Nothin’ I do is tired. I RULE.

@fableboyblue asks: so you battling Dr. Doom (via @doomwar) for money or chicks or both? You should eat something before you take him on!

@fableboyblue Eh? That ain’t Doom. Doom wouldn’t talk ’bout Taylor Swift all the time. …Wait. Scratch that. Maybe he WOULD.

RT @fableboyblue has to be doom. NAY WAIT ITS LADY GAGA! I was fooled don’t let this happen you you kids!

@fableboyblue HEY NOW don’t you hate on @ladygaga; she’s my kinda crazy. She wore a cape made outta a polar bear AND SET IT ON FIRE.

@fableboyblue: @Ask_Deadpool most definitely not hating on @ladygaga. You have to respect multi-talent.

@fableboyblue Anyway, I think @ladygaga c’n actually SPELL. Plus: POLAR BEAR CAPE. ON FIRE. Yeah, that’s right, @Ask_Deadpool’s a fan.

@fableboyblue An’ women who wear masks alla time. Maybe @ladygaga is secretly a superhero/villainess. HEY IT COULD BE TRUE.

@fableboyblue: @Ask_Deadpool agreed. Akin to Dazzler, only…lots more flash.

@jadaily asks: I’m looking for a career change. What should I do?

@jadaily How ’bout citrus fruit dyer: Dunno if it’s hard work, but ya c’d prob’ly snack some while ya work!

@gjrkow asks: x-force annual was cool cuz u fought dead acolytes, so when u officialy join x-force?

@gjrkow Shhh, don’ tell! I’m already a super-secret member. So secret that not a single person knows I joined! Hah!

@HamjamIAm asks: If you had your way, what would you do about school buses?

@HamjamIAm I’d turn ’em inta portable awesomeness on wheels: hot tub school buses, pizza parlor school buses, observatory school buses…

@HamjamIAm moonwalk school buses (they’d be totally safe! *bounce bounce bounce*), armory school buses (fer when ya need a new grenade)…

@HamjamIAm fashion show school buses (shutup I ain’t gay; it’d attract hot models!), personal rock show buses (hello, Matthew Good show!)

@HamjamIAm …OK, now I’m really thinkin’ I gotta get some old buses and go ta work on this idea. Thanks, man!

@ToughTom asks: Do you think Longshot could “get lucky” whenever he wanted?

@ToughTom I think he’d have a real good chance at makin’ babies if that’s what he wanted. Since his aim’s so good. Hur hur hur.

@ToughTom Know what I’d love ta see? Longshot vs. Domino in An Affair of the Heart. An’ in a fight, too, a’course.

Hey! I think…I think that means I’m almost caught up on th’ ol’ Twitterfeed. Which…ah, damn. Guess I’ll hafta start answerin’ questions again, eh? Just kiddin’, kids. I LOVE YA AN’ YER QUESTIONS.

P.S. I heard a rumor t’day that my friend who said he was gonna draw some little pictures fer me drew ’em. Stay tuned!

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.)

July 25, 2008

What I Did On My Summer Vacation With Captain Teeny Wings

Holy hillbillies in a high-rise, my small but fierce crowd of fantastic fans! Have we ever been having some adventures over here! Sorry you’ve had to endure a few sad, lonely days without my wonderfully whimsical and winning quick wit, but hey, masterminding a plan to steal the most essential part of a superhero’s costume EVER takes dedicated, time-consuming hard work. Also we stopped off at Hershey Park after we finished the job. Wanna Kiss?

I know you all want to know how it went down with Captain Teeny Wings, but, y’know, I gotta be careful about sharing trade secrets here on the “blogosphere,” or one’a those two-bit, has-been wannabe other merc agencies might start trying to be as cool as us. So I’ll just give ya the short’n’sweet’n’expurgiated version of how we pulled it off:

We caught up with Cap in Las Vegas, where he was headin’ into the Bellagio; apparently this whole “losing-at-poker” thing isn’t the only gambling issue he’s got. I bet you can imagine the stir that was going on when he started playin’ blackjack, what with him still being in costume and all, and kinda on the drink, too – and then when he started losing, well, you never seen such a big crowd of feebs all standing around trying to give a man advice or stop him from going another round. We coulda just jumped him right there – I mean, between me, Orca X, Outlaw, Tasky, Bob Hail HYDRA!, Mary, and Weasel on tech, we coulda taken him out no problem – but Iron Man was real specific that we weren’t supposed to hurt him – “Don’t you dare hurt a hair on his pretty head, or I’m not paying you,” is I think how he put it – so we had to figure out how to get ‘im alone and take ‘im out gentle-like.

Once we saw the state he was in, we gave Outlaw that job. We figured what with all that long blonde hair and her, ah, enhanced assets, she could lure his drunk butt into a nice quiet corner where she could work her magic and then, y’know, emwingulate him. Sad to say, though, the Cap didn’t seem real interested in her enormous…charms. So then we gave Plan B a try. Plan B involved me, Orca, Mary, Tasky, AND Weasel, and a whole lotta complicated machinery. And possibly lubricant. Tragically, I can’t say any more than that or I’d hafta hunt ya down and kill ya, and I’m really getting kinda fond of you guys. So, y’know, “skip to the end!” We managed to extract Cap from his crowd of adoring but increasingly concerned fans without a single one seeing where he went, and hauled his staggering be-winged self off to an empty room. Bob Hail HYDRA! was all for tryin’ to reason with him (“Iron Man won the teeny wings off you fair and square, Cap!”) but that pretty much failed miserably (even drunk, that dude can really pack a punch!).

I’m not real fond of people punching my pets, so I mighta, y’know, smacked Captain Teeny Wings around a little after that, but really, the bruises’ll fade long before Iron Man sees the guy again, (considering we left ‘im tied up in a closet in his Underoos just for kicks), so I figure it’s all good. Anyways, after Cap was good’n’subdued, Tasky got out the chicken shears and we gave those wings the ol’ Snip of Doom. Then we FedExed ‘em to Iron Man in a big gold box with a shiny red bow. And that, my children, is how it’s done.

It was a good time, but now I’m glad to be back at the office, ‘cause it means that I can…answer questions! YEAH. So here…we…GO!

caia_comica asks:

Hi! I’ve been enjoying your blog, and I’ve got some questions for you.

1. I was listening to that song about Rasputin, and man, that’s either a durable guy or some incompetent assassins. If they hired you, how would *you* kill the guy?

2. Why is Cable’s last name Liefield-Nicieza and not Liefeld-Simonson? Did Louise disown him or something? Or is this something to do with you guys being married? Which I didn’t think you *were*, but I don’t know why else he’d have taken your creators’ names rather than his own.

Ooh, numbered questions! Shiny!

    1. Well, my little comic, this one’s a tricky one, ‘cause there are SO MANY great ways I could kill this Rasputin dude, and it’s hard to pick just one. So I’ll pick two!

Clearly the man was all about consuming anything in sight, so I gotta say tiny grenades might be a fun way to go. This is the kinda guy who would eat grapes by the handful, I can tell, so, well…a buncha grenades work better than one, right? Just rig the stems like pins, paint ‘em kinda purple or green, offer the guy a plate, and, VIOLA! No more Rasputin! On the other hand, I woulda shot the guy just for wearing that doofy fur coat and the big fluffy hat, so another fun way to kill ‘im (well fun for me, anyway) would be to just suffocate the hell out of him with his own couture. It’d be doing everyone a favor. And, y’know, it’d make me laugh.

    2. Nah, Louise never disowned the poor fool, even though she prob’ly shoulda. I was just givin’ you the short version is all. I don’t think even Cable can remember the whole shebang without looking at his cheat sheet, and hell, it’s a good thing he can bodyslide, because they couldn’t never fit that thing on a driver’s license. Anyway, Louise is in there with all the rest, but since the man’s a bazillion years old, people tend to shorten his stupid moniker (Heh, moniker. I like that word.) every which way just so they don’t get to be his age before they’ve stopped sayin’ it.

But since you’re so keen on knowin’ the whole deal, s’far as I can remember, it’s something like this:

Nathan Simonson Christopher Zercher Gesundheit Lim Charles Harras Askani’son Romita Summers McFarlane Winters Medina Soldier X Loeb Chosen One Churchill Priscilla Brooks Dayspring Portacio Campbell Brown Mutant Messiah Malin Jesus Wannabe Johnson Geronimo Jackson Liefield-Nicieza

Except, y’know, I think I forgot about fifty names. Close enough, right?

And tell ya what, I’ll make sure Louise is gettin’ her proper credit in the profile, too, just for you.

…Moving right along, then!

beware_pussycat wonders:

Dear Deadpool:

I HATE everyone that I work with. How can I deal with them without going all buckets o’ crazy?

Listen, pussycat (rrowr!), who says crazy’s such a bad thing, huh? I mean, I know one or two cats as is crazy, and sometimes they’re just barrels’a fun. But, hey, if that’s not your cup of tea, there are lotsa things you can do to maintain your tenuous grasp on sanity. Might I suggest pranks? Possibly ones involving duct tape (duct tape duct tape) and, y’know, sharp, pointy things? Or maybe torture, potentially via playing that one song about the horse that got lost over and over and over again until THEY are the ones that go crazy? Or hey, maybe just make ‘em look at drawings by Liefeld until they think all men were meant to look like monkeys! There’s all sorts of ways you can break down The Man, and some of them don’t even involve holding impromptu fundraisers where Renee Zellweger stands on the roof belting out the lyrics to a song by a one-hit wonder. (Although, damn, she was foxy in those little skirts.)

And if pranks aren’t your thing, I’d go with the old standby of a blowtorch and a new gig. Just leave ‘em in the dust (or, y’know, ashes) and find yourself a job where you feel more Zen. Trust me, you’ll never regret it.

Well, that’s all the answers I got time for today, ‘cause Bob’s been experimentin’ with all those different kinds of chocolate we brought back from the park, and he says his “Killer Chocolate Cake” will be ready for sampling in about two minutes. I ain’t gonna miss stealin’ a piece of that, even if he may have used rat poison in it. Oh, and speaking of Bob, poll results are in! Even though this whole “maybe guest blogger” thing was Weasel’s idea, the poor schmoe only got one measly little vote. It seems like after me (and, yeah, I still won by a landslide in the coolness department) the guy you most want to see answering your questions or blogging about our adventures is Bob, our very own little Agent of HYDRA Hail HYDRA. So keep a lookout for an entry by Bob sometime, and don’t worry: if this cake kills him, we got Tasky on the line to take his place.

Ooh! The oven just dinged. Gotta run. So until next time, keep ‘em fueled and firey!

July 17, 2008

Teeny Tasky on a Twinkie, It’s Late!

Jumpin’ Jack on a beanstalk, my magnificent little matzos! It’s been so busy around here I haven’t had a minute of me-time, but I’ve been waitin’ and waitin’ to tell you the news, and I just can’t wait any more!

So remember how we got hired by Iron Man a few days ago to go “liberate” the forfeit Captain America lost to Iron Man at poker? Well I thought fer sure it was gonna be his shield – I mean, everyone loves that thing, right? Who wouldn’t want to have Cap’s shield? But I was so far wrong on this one. It’s not the shield we gotta get – it’s the teeny wings! THE TEENY WINGS. You know what I’m talking about, right? The teeny, useless little wings Cap sports on his mask like weird little antennae? Oh, man, when I read the fax from Iron Man, I couldn’t get off the floor for about an hour, I was laughing so hard. Sandi was havin’ a hard time, too. We can’t even look at each other right now, ‘cause every time we do, one of us says, ‘Teeny wings!’ and off we go again.

Anyway, that Iron Man is one twisted *&%@&!^#4$#%! You gotta admire a man who would go after Cap’s teeny wings. I wonder what Iron Man’s forfeit woulda been.

Since this it CAPTAIN AMERICA we’re talkin’ about, and the teeny wings aren’t as easy to nab as the shield (I mean, he throws that shield around all the time, but I’ve never seen him throw the teeny wings), we decided to call in Tasky, too. Well, that and Sandi’s a little worried ‘cause he tried to drink the oven cleaner yesterday after he ran out of booze. Little skelly-dude is a mess. So she thinks maybe this’ll get ‘im back to normal. Well, normal for him, anyway. Even if it works I’m not sure we’ll be able to tell the difference.

Speakin’ a’folks at the Agency, Agent X has finally gotten his Bloat down to “normal” levels. We put ‘im on a No Twinkie diet yesterday to try to help him even more, but so far, even with the electrodes we hooked up as a deterrent to Snacking, the score’s at Twinkies, 82; Agent X, 0. I dunno if we’re ever gonna get him the way he used to be again. Which is good for me, ‘cause then I can keep gettin’ all the work!

…Oh, and I almost forgot. Weasel said don’t tell, but he’s got a little crush on one a’you readers. Chyah, like he really thought I wouldn’t tell.

Weasel also had a kinda fun idea, though. He thought maybe, y’know, now and then, one of the other Agency mooks should answer some questions. Apparently all the famous people have “guest bloggers,” he says. I think it’s just ‘cause he’s getting bored with his Wii and wants to interact with possibly hot babes over the wires, but hey, I’m willing to give it a try. Sandi showed me how to do this nifty “poll” thing, so I’m gonna try it out:

And now, while Orca X is polishin’ up the guns and polishin’ off the puddin’, I’ll answer some questions:

First up, daughterofisis asks:

Good day, Sr. ‘Pool,

1. Were you born snarky, or did you have to work at it? Or, to put in another way…have you always been an asshole, darling?
2. Have you ever worn women’s underwear, and if so, what kind and do you have any pictures?
3. What is your favourite vivverid?
4. Should my girlfriend pierce her tongue?
5. In the interest of irritating you and repeating questions, how’s that cock taste? And did you know someone made two Cable/Deadpool fanmixes? Heh.

Yours truly,

P.S. I’m German, incidentally. Hopefully that’ll make you less inclined to shank me.

Oh, and happy birthday and suchlike. Actually, another question’s occurred to me: what flavour of cake do you enjoy? An excellent tool in personality assessment, is that.

Oh, numbered questions, my heart sings for you!! Whee!

    1. Well, kid, I gotta tell ya, I came outta my mother’s belly crackin’ wise, and I ain’t never stopped yet. Except when the writers shove me in those lame alternate worlds where I’m all boring and look even scarier than I do here. Man, I HATE THAT. But really, I can’t remember a day when I wasn’t me, so clearly I musta been me from Day One. But I don’t like t’think of myself as an asshole – if I had to pick a body part, I’d say I’m more of a dick. A private dick. A–oh, never mind.

    2. How come on Marvel Girl it’s a uniform, and on me, it’s underwear, that’s what I wanna know? I mean, hey, if I came out wearing the one-eyed angst-cushion’s stupid visor people’d just say, “Oh, look at ‘Pool. He borrowed Cyclops’ visor ‘cause he wanted to look like a tool, too!” But when it’s yellow panties, everybody gets all excited. I just don’t get it! As for pictures, well I tried to pose (those feebs got a whole wall with shots of themselves in uniform, and I figured they’d want me too, since I’m the coolest mutant of them all) but everyone seemed to be outta film. Schmoes.

    3. Is that like a Pokemon? Charmander’s THE BOMB.

    4. If you’re inta that freaky $&^!, then go for it! I tried to get a piercing once, but the damn hole kept healing up! Mutant DNA, I tell ya. It ruins all your fun.

    5. Well like I said, the chicken stew was fantastic, but we haven’t killed the cock yet. I think Bob’s kinda starting to think of it as his little pet. I can’t wait to see what happens when I wring its neck. And…uh…fanmixes? Is that like a mixer that can fan you at the same time? Hey, if it means my mask is on more merch, I’m cool with it.

As for the cake question, well I’m pretty partial to Bob’s non-lethal lemon cake, but I gotta say I like me some red velvet cake, too. Too bad Bob refuses to make it with black icing.

Whew! That was a lot of answerin’, right there. My typin’ finger might be just about worn out now. No, no, wait…ah, healing factor. Feelin’ good, feelin’ ready. On to the next letter:

chrryblssmninja wants to know:

if you could be in any classic black-and-white movie, what would it be? Doesn’t even have to be in English.

Oh, I love the easy ones: Citizen Kane, baby. That CFK was one crazy dude, and I dig that. ‘Course, if I was in the movie, it wouldn’ta been called Citizen Kane anymore, it woulda been something like, Deadpool Kicks Ass, so maybe it’s a good thing I wasn’t in it – I wouldn’t want to upstage some poor actor who can’t even afford color film.

OK, one more, and then we gotta go do some more Strategic Planning around here, ‘cause Iron Man said we’re supposed to try not to hurt Cap too much when we go for the TEENY WINGS.

glitterandlube says:

Fabian did list you and Cable as one of the romances he has written.

Then some asshat claimed Nate didn’t love you back.

1) What the hell is that about? Nate was the one who used the word divorce, and was practically writing you love notes, am I right?

2) How can I make my father stop stalking me? Do you have any advice?

3) How hot are you going to be kicking Skrull butt on a scale of 1-15? 27? 29? 150?

Ah, the numbered questions, like candy to my soul!

Fabian can call it whatever he wants, but I never starred in no romance novel. But to answer your questions:

    1) Well, you know how it is, some asshats are still stuck in Big Guns ‘90s, and can’t stand the idea that Cable is really a woobie schmoop. But, y’know, if they can’t wrap their heads around that one, I don’t know why they even bought the issues. I mean, here’s a guy who practically sheds a tear of w00b if he can’t save a little girl from a toothache. He’s a schmoop with a capital S. As for how the big glowy-eyed Schmoop feels about me, well, I can’t help it if everyone loves the ‘Pool-man. And I do mean everyone. I tried to let ‘im down easy over the fact that I just ain’t interested – y’know, shooting at him, trying to arrest his a$$, blowing him up with a grenade – but he just won’t give it up. Whaddaya gonna do?

    2) As my good friend Bob would say, “TAKE. HIM. OUT. Hail HYDRA!” I mean, sure, he’s your dad, but really, what’s that mean? He’s got some of the same DNA as you? Well I got some of the same DNA as Cable, and like I said, I got no problem shooting him inna face. Just DO IT.*

…Well, unless by “stalking me” you mean he asks you where you been all day when you been out on the corner with the girls smokin’ and drinkin’ and flashin’ some leg or whatever. In that case, I think he might be justified. Even if you’re fifty. That’s just something dads are allowed to do. Forever.

    3) Like the Black Box once said, I’m off the CHARTS, baby. Those Skrulls won’t know what hit ‘em. Unless Danny-boy wusses out on the writing, but you can’t blame me if that happens.

Oh, looks like the big meetin’ is about to start, so I gotta go. Wish me luck on the mission, and until next time, keep ‘em jacked and packed!

* Our lawyer (Outlaw, via mail-away law school degree) has informed me that encouraging non-super-powered beings to violence and murder is Probably Not a Good Idea, so I have to put in this little disclaimer that says, “Don’t really shoot him.” But, y’know, I don’t mean it.

July 7, 2008

Happy Birthday to meeeeeee! No living in treeeeeees!

What’s happenin’, my charming compadres?

Got some news here on the homefront: I finally figured out what you’re supposed to do with that “profile” page ‘n’ stuff, so today I updated mine. In case you’ve been confused by all the mooks that roam unchecked through my existence and my journal entries, there’s now some info on Key Mooks right up there where you can see it anytime. So go check it out and stuff!

Gold stars and a free turtle to those who realized today is my birthday and wished me a happy one. Today I am officially 152 years older than Wolverine – but I don’t look a day over 25! (Check out that icon.) W00t! Well, ok, maybe that’s not actually how old I am, but you don’t think I’d tell you the real answer now, do you? A man’s got to have some mystery, or the gals won’t keep flocking to him like flies on a dead cow!

Most years I don’t really tell anyone it’s my birthday, because birthdays kinda remind me of bad things (Don’t. Ask.) but Sandi’s started checking up on this journal to make sure I’m not saying anything too incriminating (or maybe because she wants to make sure none of you lovely ladies are trying to steal my heart away from my number one love; i.e. killing people) and she saw it was my birthday too. (And I notice it’s also skeletontrees‘s birthday, so Happy Birthday, July 7th Birthday Twin! Are you just like me? I bet you are!) So Sandi invited some folks over and had Bob cook up a HYDRA-Approved Non-Lethal Class Four Lemon Cake (Shredded Coconut Optional), and Outlaw and Weasel strapped Orca X to the Barca-lounger to make sure we all got a piece before he had his. The cake was fantastic, and nobody even died! Bob was very proud.

Outlaw had to invite her doofy boyfriend to the party, of course, but for once he didn’t grump at me about anything. In fact, I think he might have actually wished me a happy birthday, although it sounded more like, “Wahwah wahwah, Wade!” Hm. Sandi invited Irene over too, although she’s kinda a wet blanket. I guess I can give her a pass on that, though, since trying to get along with Nate for as long as she did would drive anyone to blah-dom. The cake cheered her up some, and the “Pin the Devil Tail on Cable” game I dreamed up sometime between playing Musical Handguns and Hot Grenade with everyone really made her smile. After the games we all threw back a brew and watched some old reruns of Maude. Good times! After that everyone else fell asleep, but I didn’t feel like having the clown nightmares tonight, so I decided to stay up and order in some late-night Chinese. Nothin’ like some Moo Shoo Pork to really say, “Happy Birthday to Me!”

I know some of you have Questions I haven’t Answered yet, but Never Fear! Deadpool is here, and will be getting back on the Question-Answering Horse tomorrow. For now, though, my fortune cookie tells you: Constant grinding turn iron rod into tiny needle.

Oh, those wacky Chinese!