As soon as Umbridge walked into her office this morning, she knew something was wrong. She only had to push open the door to be met with the strong stench of hot maple syrup and a blast of stuffy air
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Deadpool's first meeting had given away that the woman was clearly insane.
(THEY WERE NOT PAJAMAS)
But this one came because of what a certain spy had informed him of, which let him know she was evil as well. Evil in that Apocalypse sort of way. And nobody liked 'Poccy.
So now she had a merc leaning in her doorway, fingers itching for a gun or a knife or even a paperclip. (Thank you Bullseye for showing me that little trick.) "So, what's the haps? Mess with anyone's mind today?"
"You are not my superior," she said. "I am yours. And I will tell you what to do. Leave this office before you end up like one of the little disrespectful students."
(THEY WERE NOT PAJAMAS)
But this one came because of what a certain spy had informed him of, which let him know she was evil as well. Evil in that Apocalypse sort of way. And nobody liked 'Poccy.
So now she had a merc leaning in her doorway, fingers itching for a gun or a knife or even a paperclip. (Thank you Bullseye for showing me that little trick.) "So, what's the haps? Mess with anyone's mind today?"
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Though that word always made him think of catfish, he didn't know why.
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What? He could be petty!
"Because if you don't I'm gonna hurt you."
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"You're not superior to anyone, lady. In fact, I'd have to call you inferior."
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He flicked his wrist, a knife popping up from some hidden place along his forearm.
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It faded again in a jumble of static, formless words bubbling to the surface before it finally died down.
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That was not a little yellow box.
Deadpool blinked, jerking away from the table quickly, looking quite startled. The knife was forgotten and dropped as he eyed Umbridge warily.
"Did you just do that?"
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