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For Wade, it all started with him being bored out of his mind. Well, not LITERALLY bored out of his mind, he had regenerated from shooting himself in the face earlier after all.
He decided to do what any normal jobless person would do on a Tuesday: go surf the internet for porn in a public library in full red & black spandex while fully armed. You know, normal.
“Bea Arthur look-alikes again, guys?” Wade mumbled to himself while taking the child locks off google.
{I seriously don’t get your fascination with her, and I’m YOU}
[You actually have to check out http://www.johnwatsonblog.co.uk/]
“A dude’s blog? Is my subconscious trying to tell me something again, because that one time with ladies underwear was totally just a misunderstanding…”
{Just you wait, we’re going to show you the fanfiction next!}
[Oh, just do it, it’s relevant to the plot. This fic is going to suck otherwise]
{Ya, like it doesn’t already!}
“Fine. Fine. Shut up!” Wade yells, completely ignoring the awkward side glances he seems to be attracting.
After about 10 hours and being forced to pull a gun on a librarian who tries to usher him out of the building, Wade {Slow reader} Wilson finally finishes the blog.
[You can’t interrupt the narration, yellow box!]
And he comes to reali---
{Yeah, yeah. Irene faked her death and so did Sherlock. Blah blah, start killing people now}
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It’s stupidly simple, even for an idiot. Okay, not really, but holding his bestest-friend-for-everst Weasel at gunpoint gives him a location to teleport to in less than ten minutes.
“Well, it’s not America. We’re in a small isolated town and I don’t see a Starbucks.” Deadpool natters as he walks down the old cobblestone path of the village.
[Also everything is written in German]
{Sign that says “BIER”! That’s the only French word I know! Alcohol!}
“Aren’t we at war with France? Actually, I don’t care. I need alcohol if I am going to bring together those crazy star-crossed lovers!”
[Wayyy too much fanfiction]
{That’s impossible}
Seated in a crowded bar with a pint (and a few odd stares), Deadpool slowly gets bored.
“Searching for people is too much work!”
[You’ve literally done nothing.]
{You should start a barfight!}
“Best. Idea. Ever. BAR FIGHT!!!” Wade yells
The entire pub just stares at the spandex covered screaming man.
{Right. What’s “bar fight” in Swedish?}
“Oh for Galactus’ sake!”
Deadpool chucks a bar stool at some random dude’s head. It splinters as it connects, the man retaliates by throwing a glass at Wade’s head which misses completely and manages to bounce off three other patrons behind the Merc.
The bar erupts into chaos as random objects and people take to the air.
“Nice Sho--” Wade almost gets out before he hears the crack of a gunshot.
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About a half an hour passes until Deadpool wakes up in an empty bar in a sizeable pool of blood.
“What the hell happened? Is Polish beer really that good?” Wade asks himself, poking his head.
[No, you idiot! You followed the yellow box’s advice, which is never a good idea. Also, you got shot in the head.]
{It’s the perfect setup, just wait.}
“Someone brought a gun to a barfight??”
{I read ahead, apparently you just smashed Seb Moran’s head in with a chair.}
“And Seb is…?”
[Moriarty’s boyfriend]
“Oh, okay. Who’s that?” Wade says aloud, pointing to the tall slender man who had just walked in.
[Pretty sure you can get this all on your own, big guy]
The man narrows his eyes and condescendingly glares Wade down while taking in, no doubt, the state of the bar, the holes in his mask and the non-existent wounds that healed while he was unconscious.
“You shouldn’t be alive.” Sherlock remarks.
{Say it. Saaaayyyy it}
“Neither should you.” Deadpool retorts while he gives his box an internal hi-five.