"Allright! Well, since I couldn't get a co-host, I decided you folks should get a little more for your entertainment dollar, so I booked a guest! That's right - and keeping with this week's theme, here he is - the most deadly foe the Teen Titans have ever faced - Slade Wilson!"
From behind the curtain, Deadpool steps out, dressed to the nines, but with the pelt of Anime Emoticon Beast Boy from that cartoon slung over his shoulder, spinning a gun on his finger, snapping rhythmically with the other hand.
Humming his own theme song. "BAAAAH ba-ba DAAAH daaaaa... da da-da-da DAH-DAAAAAAH"
Deadpool hops up on the Bug's desk, struts over it, and plops down into the seat next to him, putting his feet up on the table.
"Buggaboo! Ya buggin' what ya buggin' who ya buggin' me and can't ya see it ain't cool! What's the haps, my good man?"
He slaps the pelt down on the desk (incidentally, the face on the pelt is going ;_;) and pats the Bug on the head. "I come bearing gifts! Now can we get one of those hot-ass orange chicks to come bare something else?"
"You never can tell! I managed to wrangle an autographed centerfold on my first show. So, how ya doin', Slade? I can call you Slade, right?"
He pets the pelt in a Blofeldian manner, making the whole thing look like nothing so much as a Bond movie on a TV with the tint gone screwy. "Nice fur."
"You can call me Slade, you can call me Wade, you can call me Ray, you can call me Jay. Honey when you call me you can call me Al - no, wait scratch that, know a girl named Al, that'd just make things weird."
He takes the mug o' joe from the desk and knocks some of it back.
"Speakin' of nice fur - the orange chicks? Or maybe the blonde with the big rack and the screamy voice - got a mild thing for mutant throats, y'know..."
He grins. "I hear she's not a natural blonde. Then again, might be the sort of thing that bears investigation. " He waggles his eyebrow, which jangles his antennae.
"So, Slade - it says here on these handy little cards that you're a mercenary.. and you use your accelerated healing factor and mastery of a variety of weaponry to make your way in that dangerous life. What would you say is your favorite weapon?"
On cue, he pulls out this gigantic piece of hardware.
"I'm tempted to go into the Jackie Brown riff about absolutely posismurfly killing ever motherscratcher in the room, but really, I gotta just say 'you must give props to the gun that allows you to kill the entire Generation X team in that Contest of Champions deal. Honestly, do you know ANY of their names? I mean, JUBILEE led that team! Put 'em out of our collective misery."
A look around, squinting at Houngan. "Hey! Dexter St. Jock! If you absolutely HAD to shoot the deputy, would it be Enos or Cletus?"
There's no sign of Houngan after the blast, but the smoke and wreckage by the music pit make the determination a difficult one.
"Hey, hey, hey.. slow back, pardner. That musical gear's expensive! Let's get back to the questions, 'kay? Nice, safe cards. This one says - one of your other abilities is an advanced tactical mind, enhanced to superhuman standards. Do you think that's an accurate description?"
Wade plops back down in the chair, always satisfied with a Casio-shattering ka-boom.
"Tell you the truth, Ambushdexterous, back in the day, sure - my cunningly cunning-filled cunning linguistical cunningosity usually manifested in the tried and true "throw your ass in a room full of ninjas and don't stop firing until they'z all nothin' but secrets of the ooze' tactic."
Now he's got the little soap bottle out and he's blowing bubbles.
"Course I've had my brains blown out enough times now that I'm lucky I can open the right end of the Kraft Cheese & Macaroni box."
Then a big doofy grin. "See, cuz it's the cheesiest. And, oddly enough, the ginchiest."
"Oh, mother of god, heavens to murgatroid, Patrick Swayze on a pogo stick, I saw that rassum frassum trainwreck on Cartoon Network one night when I was wasted on my own particular alcoholic masterpiece - Mountain Dew, Tequila, Mad Dog 20/20, Sunny D, the purple stuff, Surfin' Berry Punch Kool-Aid, Jack Daniels, Jim Beam, Bartles & Jaymes, Turner & Hooch and with a twist of battery acid for extra zest."
He pulls out a knife and stabs the head of the pelt again.
"It was this ungodly hunk of assmunchery. If this is the future, I'll take vanilla. I mean, ROBIN led that team. You throw him and Jubilee into a jar together and shake it up to make them fight, all you'll get is fingernail scratches, a sissy-ass slap fight and then Lifetime Movie-Of-The-Week sob-fests. Seriously, if you're following Burt Ward or Chris O'Donnell into battle, just give it UP
( ... )
"Oh, MOTHER of - I KNEW you'd ask me the hardest question ever! Couldn't you just ask me to solve quadratic equations or invent perpetual motion
( ... )
Reply
Humming his own theme song. "BAAAAH ba-ba DAAAH daaaaa... da da-da-da DAH-DAAAAAAH"
Or maybe Johnny Carson's theme.
Reply
He moves to sit behind the big desk, taking up the cards with interview questions. "Please, please, have a seat."
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"Buggaboo! Ya buggin' what ya buggin' who ya buggin' me and can't ya see it ain't cool! What's the haps, my good man?"
He slaps the pelt down on the desk (incidentally, the face on the pelt is going ;_;) and pats the Bug on the head. "I come bearing gifts! Now can we get one of those hot-ass orange chicks to come bare something else?"
Reply
He pets the pelt in a Blofeldian manner, making the whole thing look like nothing so much as a Bond movie on a TV with the tint gone screwy. "Nice fur."
Reply
He takes the mug o' joe from the desk and knocks some of it back.
"Speakin' of nice fur - the orange chicks? Or maybe the blonde with the big rack and the screamy voice - got a mild thing for mutant throats, y'know..."
Reply
"So, Slade - it says here on these handy little cards that you're a mercenary.. and you use your accelerated healing factor and mastery of a variety of weaponry to make your way in that dangerous life. What would you say is your favorite weapon?"
Reply
"I'm tempted to go into the Jackie Brown riff about absolutely posismurfly killing ever motherscratcher in the room, but really, I gotta just say 'you must give props to the gun that allows you to kill the entire Generation X team in that Contest of Champions deal. Honestly, do you know ANY of their names? I mean, JUBILEE led that team! Put 'em out of our collective misery."
A look around, squinting at Houngan. "Hey! Dexter St. Jock! If you absolutely HAD to shoot the deputy, would it be Enos or Cletus?"
Reply
He holds up a voodoo doll, of Barney Fife.
"Why you tink he shoot himself in de foot all de time?"
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"Whiiiiich brings me to my other favorite gun - Mr. Smiley here."
Suddenly, his feet are on his chair's armrests, and the gun is trained on Houngan.
"DON KNOTTS DIED FOR OUR SINS, BLASPHEMER!"
*BLAMMM!*
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"Hey, hey, hey.. slow back, pardner. That musical gear's expensive! Let's get back to the questions, 'kay? Nice, safe cards. This one says - one of your other abilities is an advanced tactical mind, enhanced to superhuman standards. Do you think that's an accurate description?"
Reply
"Tell you the truth, Ambushdexterous, back in the day, sure - my cunningly cunning-filled cunning linguistical cunningosity usually manifested in the tried and true "throw your ass in a room full of ninjas and don't stop firing until they'z all nothin' but secrets of the ooze' tactic."
Now he's got the little soap bottle out and he's blowing bubbles.
"Course I've had my brains blown out enough times now that I'm lucky I can open the right end of the Kraft Cheese & Macaroni box."
Then a big doofy grin. "See, cuz it's the cheesiest. And, oddly enough, the ginchiest."
Reply
He nods, going on to the next card. "So when did you first come into contact with the Teen Titans?"
Reply
He pulls out a knife and stabs the head of the pelt again.
"It was this ungodly hunk of assmunchery. If this is the future, I'll take vanilla. I mean, ROBIN led that team. You throw him and Jubilee into a jar together and shake it up to make them fight, all you'll get is fingernail scratches, a sissy-ass slap fight and then Lifetime Movie-Of-The-Week sob-fests. Seriously, if you're following Burt Ward or Chris O'Donnell into battle, just give it UP ( ... )
Reply
He pauses, for effect.
"If you were a tree, what sort of tree would you be?"
Reply
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