Post by deadpool on Aug 17, 2006 3:15:17 GMT -5
Deep in the jungles of Wakanda, a stones throw from tyrannical overlords who enact genocidal butchery for reasons completely foreign to sane minds, and Insane mind is at work… beating the pewp out of a feeb!
The mostly naked man, with a skull-like face and a loincloth, is punched back over a log, giving a hideous look at his nethers that would make the audience cringe. He stumbled to his feet only to take another spinning hook kick across the jaw, knocking him down into the underbrush.
“first off,” Deadpool began “What kind of name is Baron ferkin’ Macabre!? I mean, LAME ASS. Secondly, you may want to seriously consider getting that looked at…”
He clearly meant the man’s supernaturally gaunt face, which looked remarkably like a skull’s.
“… I have a fucked up face, and still yours is really topping the charts of the all time crappiest mug. You’re up there with Ghost Rider and Red Skull – except they at least have the decency to ACTUALLY have skulls for heads. You just have a dumpy skullish face.”
He drug the man back to his feet, and began to shake him by the head. Baron Macabre looked clearly dazed and out of it.
“Now look you silly bastard, where are the swords!?” He shouted, shaking the scrawny man’s head. “THE SWORDS!!”
(( This scene has been edited due to explicit content ))
Smack-smack-smack-smack… Deadpool continued to slap the skully face back and forth. “Why do you make this so hard, Skeletor? Just tell me where the swords are, and I won’t hurt you... oh, and – HOW MANY LIGHTS DO YOU SEE?”
“Ummm… sir?” William said from behind him, near the parked Jeep.
“Yes Alfred?” DP responded, pausing his inhumane beating to look over his shoulder.
William ignored the incorrect name. “Sir I do believe that man has been unconscious for a very long time. Probably since the first time you kicked him.”
“Yeah?” he looked back at the scrawny supervillian, and shook him. The body waggled back and forth, clearly only with Deadpool’s help. “Oh.”
He dropped Baron Macabre unceremoniously and turned back towards the car, wiping his gloved hands off on his pants. “Okay… so I guess my swords aren’t here.”
“Sir, are you sure the Gypsy said they’d be here?”
“Oh yes…” Deadpool said, looking grave. “I’m quite sure…”
… flashback….
Deadpool stalks purposefully through the rainy streets, the sky dark and thunderous. He is approached by a mugger, but as he looks up and hisses, the man quickly leaves. He heads directly to a neon sign – an advertisement for a fortune teller. He goes in…
“Sir,” William asked. “What are you doing?”
“Huh?” Deadpool said, staring at him blankly.
“You’re simply telling me this as if it’s third person.” William said in his drawl.
“What? I was?”
“Yes. You blatantly said: ‘Flashback.’ Then ‘Deadpool stalks purposefully through the rainy streets, the sky dark and thunderous. He is approached by a mugger...’ et cetera.”
“Hmmm…” Deadpool mused, scratching his chin. “I thought that if that was italicized, it’d mean it was a thought or even a flashback or other non-present representation. I mean, that’s what italics are used for, right? Thoughts and stuff?”
William simply stared at him, blankly. He was getting used to this insanity.
“Well, I’ll have to see if I can’t get my thought-italics to function normally again.” Deadpool said, somewhat discouraged. “Anyway, yeah, so the Gypsy lady gave me a list of places I need to check out. This was one of them… but apparently nothin’. I’ve got a few more to go to, so maybe we’ll get lucky.”
The two of them got into the Jeep, and William brought it to life.
Deadpool pulled out a roadmap. “Next stop… Australia!”
The mostly naked man, with a skull-like face and a loincloth, is punched back over a log, giving a hideous look at his nethers that would make the audience cringe. He stumbled to his feet only to take another spinning hook kick across the jaw, knocking him down into the underbrush.
“first off,” Deadpool began “What kind of name is Baron ferkin’ Macabre!? I mean, LAME ASS. Secondly, you may want to seriously consider getting that looked at…”
He clearly meant the man’s supernaturally gaunt face, which looked remarkably like a skull’s.
“… I have a fucked up face, and still yours is really topping the charts of the all time crappiest mug. You’re up there with Ghost Rider and Red Skull – except they at least have the decency to ACTUALLY have skulls for heads. You just have a dumpy skullish face.”
He drug the man back to his feet, and began to shake him by the head. Baron Macabre looked clearly dazed and out of it.
“Now look you silly bastard, where are the swords!?” He shouted, shaking the scrawny man’s head. “THE SWORDS!!”
(( This scene has been edited due to explicit content ))
Smack-smack-smack-smack… Deadpool continued to slap the skully face back and forth. “Why do you make this so hard, Skeletor? Just tell me where the swords are, and I won’t hurt you... oh, and – HOW MANY LIGHTS DO YOU SEE?”
“Ummm… sir?” William said from behind him, near the parked Jeep.
“Yes Alfred?” DP responded, pausing his inhumane beating to look over his shoulder.
William ignored the incorrect name. “Sir I do believe that man has been unconscious for a very long time. Probably since the first time you kicked him.”
“Yeah?” he looked back at the scrawny supervillian, and shook him. The body waggled back and forth, clearly only with Deadpool’s help. “Oh.”
He dropped Baron Macabre unceremoniously and turned back towards the car, wiping his gloved hands off on his pants. “Okay… so I guess my swords aren’t here.”
“Sir, are you sure the Gypsy said they’d be here?”
“Oh yes…” Deadpool said, looking grave. “I’m quite sure…”
… flashback….
Deadpool stalks purposefully through the rainy streets, the sky dark and thunderous. He is approached by a mugger, but as he looks up and hisses, the man quickly leaves. He heads directly to a neon sign – an advertisement for a fortune teller. He goes in…
“Sir,” William asked. “What are you doing?”
“Huh?” Deadpool said, staring at him blankly.
“You’re simply telling me this as if it’s third person.” William said in his drawl.
“What? I was?”
“Yes. You blatantly said: ‘Flashback.’ Then ‘Deadpool stalks purposefully through the rainy streets, the sky dark and thunderous. He is approached by a mugger...’ et cetera.”
“Hmmm…” Deadpool mused, scratching his chin. “I thought that if that was italicized, it’d mean it was a thought or even a flashback or other non-present representation. I mean, that’s what italics are used for, right? Thoughts and stuff?”
William simply stared at him, blankly. He was getting used to this insanity.
“Well, I’ll have to see if I can’t get my thought-italics to function normally again.” Deadpool said, somewhat discouraged. “Anyway, yeah, so the Gypsy lady gave me a list of places I need to check out. This was one of them… but apparently nothin’. I’ve got a few more to go to, so maybe we’ll get lucky.”
The two of them got into the Jeep, and William brought it to life.
Deadpool pulled out a roadmap. “Next stop… Australia!”