Blood is thicker than Bullets
by Dr. Seuss (channeled via Indigo)
DISCLAIMER: They belong to Marvel and DC comics, respectively, and not to me. The RL person belongs to herself, and the writing style belongs to the late Theodore Geisel -- the genius you probably know better as Dr. Seuss. None are used with permission, nor for profit.
FEEDBACK: Please, to email@example.com And before you ask, NO. I DON'T have any more crack. I used it all up to write this. :) Get your own crack.
DEDICATION: To Redhawk. Ask him, it's a long, twisted story.
ARCHIVE: Usual rules apply.
PERMISSIONS: Do not MST, but go right ahead and POP-UP if you like.
In a flicker of tech, and a flecker of flash
Deadpool returned in a burst of panache.
Patch did a facepalm, and Mary did too.
Deadpool addressed the mercenary zoo.
"When you kicked me out of my favourite Hellhouse,
"You said never come back! You called me a louse!"
"I shudder to say that I made a mistake,
"I shiver to think that you're getting a break."
Patch sighed; this was giving him quite a headache.
"But no other merc would take this job,
"So Deadpool, you get it, you poor, lucky slob."
The Merc with the Mouth smiled a Merc-mouthy smile.
He considered and thought and he pondered awhile.
"If I'm such a poor slob, and I take this here job,
"And I slice and I dice and I shoot with my gun
"This schmoo or this schmoe, for both money and fun,
"It best take more effort than just grenade lob!"
Patch twirled his moustache, and he twirled it some more
"Wade, it's got all that violence you like best in store!
"You'll get to quip quips, and you'll get to crack wise,
"You'll get to shoot guns, and cut guards down to size!"
"With that kind of offer, how can I refuse?"
Wade's head filled with thoughts of blood-bloody ooze.
"So show me who's going to come to such harm!"
Wade said, "Come on, and tell me, now! Who buys the farm?"
Patch hemmed and he hawed and he hawed and he hemmed.
When Deadpool saw who, he laughed, "Oh boy, it's *them*!"
* * *
Elsewhere in the world, a fax machine clicked,
sending the same contract out to the sticks.
A butler who butled with style and with grace,
read the fax quickly, a frown on his face.
"They want the best," the butler did sigh.
And being a good butler, called up that same guy.
Slade Wilson was hunting a rare antelope
Not with gun or with knife or with hook or with rope
But with a camera, some film and a flash
Planned to capture the critter before it could dash.
"Sir, you've a contract," the butler's voice said.
The antelope ran, and Slade banged his head
on the most nearest tree, which just happened to be
a vent of frustration, which turned to elation
when he found who it was they wanted dead.
"Not that I'd turn down this offer of cash,"
said Slade, "I could do this job quick as a flash.
"But why spend the money on Mr. Deathstroke?
"The job could be done by much cheaper folks.
"Mine is not to reason why,
"Just to butle and to fly
"You here or there, or anywhere."
The butler shrugged, the butler smiled.
His boss smiled back after a while.
"You know why they won't choose the rest.
"East or west, Deathstroke's the best."
"I am the best, I must admit.
"And after this job, I can quit.
"With all the money they will pay
"I'll never work another day!"
"Send send back the fax, and tell them yes.
"I'll do the job, I'll make the mess.
"I'll bump them off, and make them die.
"And then back here, I'll quickly fly
"To hunt my antelope some more
"And with my camera finally score."
* * *
So Slade suited up in his orange and blue.
He formed him a plan, knew just what to do.
He formed a contingency, backup plan too.
Best or not, he'd been thwarted a time or two.
Slade had the advantage, the cool upper hand.
But super-do-gooders often messed up his plans.
A situation expected on every last hit
Though Slade took no joy, no elation from it,
So he packed and he racked and he sighed a big sigh.
He was no speedster, and he could not fly,
So he realized that it might be more tough after all
Than he thought it at first, it might end up a brawl.
* * *
And Wade packed his bags and he whistled a tune:
"My image inducer, my water balloons,
"My inflatable sheep gun, my garotte, my knife!
"My other fun gizmos with which I'll take life!
~What happened to wanting to be a good guy?~
His conscience demanded with a put-upon sigh.
"I suck at the hero bit, that's what it is!
"I do what I'm good at, the violence biz!"
With his bags all packed up and his gear stowed away
Deadpool was ready to enter the fray...
"Uh, better get dressed," he sheepishly said.
Then wriggled on spandex in both black and red.
* * *
In a twinkle of spark and a twonkle of light.
Deathstroke arrived on a rooftop that night.
He settled himself in, spyglass in hand.
To observe his victim and fine-tune his plan.
The Merc with the mouth took a different view.
Image inducered, he got closer to
The quarry, 'til bouncers bounced him away.
"Unforeseen consequence. Better try a new play."
* * *
"Now I see why the pay was so vast.
"Screaming crowds of thousands for me to get past.
"Nothing I haven't done before...
"But fanatic teenagers may just declare war."
Deathstroke put down his binocs and he sighed a great sigh.
"I'd hoped to be subtle, with a rifle, on high.
"But now I must beard the lion in his den.
"And face the wrath of young women -- and men."
* * *
"Of course!" Wade cried. "I know I can't lose!"
Deadpool thought of his face. He looked like Thom Cruz!
"I've got big brass ones," he thought with pride.
And just as he hoped, the guards let him inside.
A kick to the head, of a guard on his right,
a very fast brawl, then his target in sight.
Deadpool could've fired and ended the case,
but it was too easy -- he wanted a chase.
* * *
Deathstroke was quite frankly a little bit sore
when he entered and found guards laid out on the floor.
"That means another is after the mark.
"My taser and its electrical arc
"Will make short work of my unknown foe
"And on to the big money I will then go."
His target stood helpless, right there on the stage
But Slade wouldn't shoot a tiger in a cage.
The chase was more fun, if he could call it that.
The killing, the murder, he never quailed at.
* * *
"Like a deer, then, I'll give her a fine sporting chance.
"If the mark's got brains, she'll run at first glance
"Of me standing in here with a gun pointed thus.
"She'll run for her life, not kick up a fuss."
* * *
"The would be victim's quite rich too, they say.
I could make out like a bandit today.
Get paid to spare her, and then rescue instead.
And 'cause of my looks, get to take her to bed!"
Each assassin was certain of how things would go.
If asked, they would each have answered, "I know."
But neither expected to meet with his match
In the place they had chosen their target's dispatch.
"Get out, or I'll kill you," said Slade with a scowl.
"Get out or I'll kill you," Wade snapped in a growl.
"Is there an echo in here?" Wade wondered aloud.
"No, but one killer's company, and two is a crowd."
"You're here to wipe out the kid on the stage?"
"I'll shoot through her head and stave in her rib cage."
Wade stuck out his tongue. "Ew, man, that's vile."
Slade rolled his eyes, "Yeah, but it has style."
"This much is true, I'd have to admit.
"But it can't be that simple. I'll play you for it!
"Rock, paper, scissors, or quick game of chess?"
"It's tempting, that last one, I must confess."
Slade shook his head. "But it'll take too long."
"We only have 'til the end of the song
"That's playing on stage, it's her last encore.
"And then she comes in, through her dressing room door."
"I'm cutting you slack as it is, fashion lad.
"Wade Wilson's got professional respect to be had."
"Wade Wilson's your name? It's your name, you are saying?
"Well, Slade Wilson's mine, and you'd best commence praying."
"Hey, nobody bites off my name and survives!
"This is like something from Days of Our Lives...
"Perhaps we're related, by blood to another,"
"Why, Gadzooks and Egad, does this make you my *mother*?"
Slade expected a punch or a kick or a drug.
What he wasn't expecting was Wade Wilson's hug.
They fell to the floor, Wade fighting back tears...
when in walked the target...Brittany Spears!
"I've never seen fans like you two before,"
said the bimboesque singer who stood in the door.
"You're pretty good too, to get in past my guards.
"How's a picture, an autograph, and my regards?"
"Sorry, we're here not for autographs,
"Nor pictures, nor CDs, nor jobs on your staff."
"Yep, Mom's got it right, you'd best run in fear.
"Mom and me are paid to kill you, Brittany Spears!"
"Eek!" screamed the idol, and took to her heels.
"The chase is on! She made no appeal!"
Wade leapt after her, then turned to call back,
"Hey Mom, split the fee, if I stab her in the back!"
Slade sighed and he took to the rafters instead.
Swung his old form high over Wade's head.
"To think that this one could be mine," he did grieve.
"At least he's not Addie's -- she'll be so relieved."
The teen idol ran, and got held by the crowd.
Slade stopped and watched, but Deadpool got loud.
"Make way for Thom Cruz, this girl is my date!
"Don't worry, kids, I won't keep her out late."
The crowd parted easily for the two "stars"
And Slade rode with them atop Brittany's car.
"I'll kill them both with one quick flat.
"They'll die in the crash, and that will be that."
A wad of C-4 and a hole in the tire,
then Deathstroke 'ported away to retire.
The car went KABOOM! on the way to LA,
and fell into the sea, where the wreckage still stays.
Slade Wilson returned to his home the next morning,
and read in the papers of much teenage mourning.
But to his surprise, there were just two bodies found.
The singer's, her driver's, but no one else drowned.
"Could he have escaped, and survived to return?"
"Mom, I've survived being beaten and burned."
Slade turned tosee Wade with a bouquet of flowers.
"Why so surprised? I found you in hours."
"You must be a son of mine, after all.
"Only a Wilson could such fate befall,
"And still come back later to vex and annoy.
"You must be my son! So come to me, my boy!"
Wade went to Slade and they shared an embrace.
Father and son went and bought their own place.
They hung out a shingle, blue, orange, black red...
Deadpool & Deathstroke, the best of the best.
No job too small, we'll destroy any pest.
(What, you were expecting a sad ending?)
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