It's about 10 p.m. in a bad part of New York. In a dank, dark alleyway, a punky looking man in his mid-thirties takes the hand full of bills from the younger man and in the other, hands the younger man two syringes filled with what the kid thinks is some new drug. Neon, the kids call it. The younger of the two guys has just enough time to form on his face a wide smirk.

CRACK! CRACK!

Two vicious blows to the heads from Frank Castle knock punk number one and punk number two flat on their asses. Frank calmly steps on the two syringes, destroying them with a minute crunch.

"That shit you were going to put into your veins was poison."said Frank, looking down at the younger of the two men. "It would be in your best interest to leave now."

The boy looks pissed and dizzy for about a second until he jerks his head moving his long black hair out of his eyes and looks up to see what he recognizes as a musclebound Punisher looking down at him. Two .45 pistols holstered to his thighs, and a knife missing from his leg holster and currently in his right hand.

Within about three seconds, the kid is up off his ass, running down the alleyway and onto the sidewalk, leaving Frank and a man who has never been more scared in his life alone in a dark, dead-end alleyway.

The man lets out a whimper as Frank picks him up by his neck and smashes him back-first against the brick wall causing the whimper to turn into a yelp. With his right hand, Frank takes his combat knife and, not quickly, but also not slowly, stabs about a good inch and a half of steel into the man's right upper leg.

"Tell me who you work for, and I might leave you in one piece." said Frank. The man, knowing who had him against the wall, pissed his pants, and immediately spilled the address belonging to who he said was his "Neon" distributor.

"Give me a name" said Frank calmly, pressing his left knee painfully into the man's crotch while simultaneously squeezing the man's neck twice as hard and digging the knife into the man's leg about another two inches.

The man let out a pained gasp and mustered: "Wade! Says his name's Wade!" He let out a restricted breath and continued: "He's real big like you, and his face looks all fucked up, like, like all burnt or some shit!"

Frank pondered this for a minute before sticking the knife entirely into the man's right leg causing the man to scream and his entire body to shake violently in pain.

After about a minute of nothing but the man's annoying feminine screams, Frank finally spoke: "I'm pretty sure I know who this is. If I find out you are lying to me, I'm going to find you, and this knife is going to be much more familiar with the inside of your body."

He then violently pulled the knife from the man's leg causing him to scream like a woman in her most painful moments of labor. Frank removed his knee from his piss-soaked crotch, and let go of his neck dropping him on the wet and dirty concrete. The man laid there writhing in pain, soaked from his own piss and blood. His jeans now 75% crimson, his tight, black metal band shirt soaked, he looks up at Frank shaking.

"I'll be seeing you again soon, and you'd better hope you gave me the right name." Said Frank.

He then kneeled down, wiped the blood covered blade on the man's relatively dry cheek(It was relatively moist, he was sweating buckets after all), sheathed it in his leather ankle holster, and left the punk in the alleyway. He walked a block in the run down ghetto part of town to his black 1969 Pontiac GTO, and drove to his hideout. It was after all, his current home.

...

Someone around has been selling poison around a couple of run down neighborhoods and passing it off as some new drug. Frank Castle had read countless police reports detailing corpses with toxins in their veins and a familiar couple of needles filled with a purple liquid lying next to their bodies. It also didn't surprise him that the same was being done with other already-existing drugs such as ecstasy and heroin. This was all done in the same general area and his confrontation with the previously mentioned drug-dealer was his first move besides his observations of the deals.

Frank, on his way to the address he was given, stops at his own apartment, and grabs his modified M14 rifle. The rifle is long, sleek, black, and customized to be a sniper rifle. On it is a long range scope that's almost 35% as big as the gun itself, a long and thick suppressor, and a bipod(For those of you who don't know, a bipod is a retractable pair of pegs that make a 45 degree angle and allow the shooter to prop the rifle up on something; usually while laying on their stomach or crouching). He quickly walks outside and places it in his trunk next to his kevlar bulletproof vest, AK-47 assault rifle with a grip attached, two drum magazines(Three, counting the clip already inside the rifle), and a somewhat old-fashioned pump-action shotgun.

Now it was time to head to the apartment that belonged to none other than Deadpool himself. Frank knew not how he was involved in all of this, but he'd be damned if he didn't find out.

Frank only hoped that old Deady wasn't in the mood to annoy the shit out of him and press his buttons. Unfortunately(And much to Frank's dismay and annoyance as the thought entered his head), there was never a time when he wasn't in the mood to do exactly that.

After about 45 minutes of driving, Frank got out of his car, and went to the door of the low rate apartment building. Tired, hungry, and very annoyed, Frank merely kicked down the front door(He had briefly looked at the buzzer to see which room read Wade W.) and started briskly heading up the stairs to the fifth floor out of the six floors there were in the apartment, his black combat boots making loud thumbs on the dirty wood steps, Frank growling under his breath every few seconds.

He didn't know how the hell Wade was involved in all of this, but he knew that there was a reason he was, and that at some point he would have to further question that punk from earlier and that there was a good chance that the punk would be under soil by the end of the week.

Frank reached floor five and put his ear up to the door. He heard the sounds of what was probably rough sex. This further annoyed Frank enough to kick the door clean off of it's hinges. He stood in the doorway to see that across the room was Deadpool's bed. On it Frank was treated to the sight of a curvy, naked woman riding Wade and abruptly she stopped as the door flew a few feet in front of the bed. She was pale, had artificially dyed semi-short blue hair, and a big round ass. As she turned the top half of her body around to see a fairly musclebound and disgruntled Punisher, she stared in shock, still mounted on top of Deadpool(Frank then saw that she had rather large and round DDDD-Cup breasts and briefly noted that she definitely didn't come cheap. As in "cum" for cheap... haha... Wade told me he'd skewer me if I didn't throw the joke in what would you do if you were me?!).

As Frank stood there and watched, his eyes met Deadpool's eyes for the first time. Deadpool was completely naked except for the nude woman that sat mounted upon his crotch and what looked like his usual red and black mask except that it had a zipper where his mouth was and spikes over where the top of his head was. He also had a belt tightened around his neck.

"Um... if you wanted some poontang all you had to do was knock Franky buddy." Said Wade.

Frank unfazed, and only mildly surprised at this rather interesting sex session he had witnessed took a deep breath and said: "Wade, we need to talk."

To which Wade replied: "Huh, that's a pretty anticlimactic thing for some guy that calls himself "The Punisher" to say walking in on this heh heh."

"Don't test my patience." Frank warned.

Frank motioned with his eyes for the escort to leave and, after a moment of hesitation, she climbed off Wade's cock(Her lovehole making a squishy plop noise as Wade exited her), hopped off of the bed, and stood up.

Wade raised his hand to protest but she was already walking out with her trench coat covering her and her lingerie in a ball in her arm.

As Wade sat up showing that he had accumulated a healthy dose of blows from a belt(And we're not speaking of the blowing that he got below the belt before Frank got there! Haha, once again, Wade made me do it, don't judge me.) and put on a pair of black underwear with Punisher skulls on them, identical to the one on Frank's short-sleeved shirt, Frank opened his mouth to speak when THUCK! Deadpool delivered a vicious uppercut to Frank's huge, scruffle-covered jaw, knocking him on his ass.

Frank grabbed the banister from outside the room to pull himself up and saw that the belt that was on Wade's neck was now folded in Wade's right hand and a pink ring had formed on his neck where the belt was.

"Goddamnit Wade!" Frank yelled.

"Hey," said Deadpool, "You interrupted me while I was getting kinky and making my winky stinky!"

Frank shot forward with both arms at full force grabbing Wade by the neck and slamming and holding him against wall. But not before Wade got in a few good whips to Frank's face.

Naturally this effectively got Frank about ten times more pissed. His face red almost to the point of matching the color of Deadpool's leather gimp mask, and he squeezed as hard as he could.

Deadpool let out a choking gasp and mustered up the strength to suggestively get out: "Harder please, Mr. Punisher"

Frank, livid at this point, pulled back his right arm and formed a fist. As he threw a vicious blow, Deadpool simultaneously moved his head out of the way and kneed Frank in the nuts.

Even with his almost inhuman pain tolerance, Frank had to bend over and gasp for air, the hand on Deadpool's neck jerked and went to his leg and his other hand was buried into the drywall.

Deadpool used this opportunity to viciously whip The Punisher's face left and right with the leather belt causing Frank to grunt savagely in pain.

"Hahaha, that'll teach you to get rid of the fanservice!" Said Deadpool. "I bet even your readers are cheering me on right now!" He continued.

Before long Frank, in an act that was both in panic and extreme anger, rips his hand from the wall delivering a sideswipe to Wade's right jaw breaking his neck and causing him to spin 180 degrees. Dazed, Wade(With the belt still clenched in his right fist) snaps his neck back into place. The second he accomplishes this Frank grabs Wade by the back of his neck with his right hand, and simultaneously grabbed one of his .45 pistols with the other, forced Wade to walk over to his computer, and, at the last second before smashed Wade's face into the monitor, he yelled at the top of his lungs: "Not my porn!".

Naturally, Frank smashed Wade headfirst into the rather outdated monitor, pulled his head out and hit the tower of the computer sending it flying and smashing against the wall into pieces, and then proceeded to smash his face into the keyboard as hard as he could(It broke in half before long, naturally.)

In one swift motion, he slammed Wade's face into the top of the wooden table that once held Wade's favorite source of funky porn, used his left hand that held his M1911 .45 and continually smashed the back of Wade's skull as hard as he could until Wade's arms flailed at a more weak rate. Frank pressed the barrel of the gun to the back of Wade's skull, and fired three times sending blood out of the back of his head and through the back of his gimp mask like a geyser and covering Frank's face.

Frank then let go of the temporary corpse causing it to fall on it's back(Leaving a rather nasty DEADpool of blood on the floor, you know why this joke was put in here.) , he pulled the wheeled computer chair over to the window that was a few feet from the bed, sat down, and waited for the telltale sound of Wade waking back up.

After about thirty seconds, Wade sat up, and stretched his arms out in the air letting out a fake yawn for comedic effect(Frank was not amused).

He then said to Frank: "Okay, you've got my attention, what the fuck do you want?"

...

"So, let me get this straight," Wade began after Frank filled him in as to what had happened:

"You caught some jackass selling poison and passing it off as drugs in some run down part of town, and that same jackass pointed to me as his supplier?"

"Is that not what I just said?" replied Frank.

"Come on, you know me better than that right?"

Frank raised an eyebrow as Wade continued:

"If I wanted to take out the fine citizens of some shitty town, Swords, bombs and BFGs would be more my cup of tea."

"Well, it sure didn't make much fucking sense when he gave me your name. That much I already knew."

"I told you!" Wade said exasperatedly.

"Alright, we're going to pay jackass a visit. So put some damn clothes on." said Frank

"Haha, we gonna kick his ass harder than my daddy kicked mine… which was pretty hard. Only we won't pull out our d-"

"Just put some clothes on!" Frank cut him off and then proceeded with: "I'll be waiting in my car out front."

"All right all right!... Grouch-ass!" Wade said pulling up his red and black tights on his legs. "I'll only be a minute."

As Frank stepped down the stairs and out the front door(It was still ajar from when he kicked it.) he noticed the blue-haired prostitute was now sitting on one of the three concrete steps that led up to the main door. By now she had her fishnet leggings, lingerie, and black trenchcoat back on and she was looking up at Frank wide eyed.

"Is he coming out?" she asked.

"Yeah." He said walking to his car."

"All right, just wondering because he didn't pay yet."

Frank paused momentarily, still facing his car and warned: "Make sure you stay off Shephard Street, three prostitute's bodies have shown up around there in the past few weeks."

He continued to walk to the driver door of his car not turning around to see her reaction or respond to her frightened "Uh… thanks."

After ten minutes Wade, who appeared in full costume, holding a long briefcase and an M4 assault rifle began comedically marching down the steps imitating a soldier's march. Frank(mildly interested) noted to himself that Wade also carried a two .50 caliber Desert Eagle pistols in holsters. Wade also had taken the time to put a (Rather futuristic-looking) shotgun on a large, leather leg holster, and filled up the built in shotgun shell holders on either sides of the stomach area of his costume.

Much to Frank's annoyance, the prostitute stopped Wade, causing him to set down his assault rifle and briefcase, pull out a red wallet(With the Deadpool icon stitched on it, of course) out of the pocket on his shotgun holster, and dug through it thumbing through the wallet as if he was one of those assholes you run into that doesn't have their money ready when they are next in line at the register of the grocery store. Frank was also almost amused by the sound of velcro tearing apart when Wade opened his wallet. The blue-haired beauty took the money, put it in her bra, kissed Wade on the cheek, and handed him a card(Presumably her phone number, Frank thought silently to himself) and sent him on his way.

Wade, in a daze and happy from being kissed(through his mask), held the briefcase and M4 by their respective handles in one hand, yanked open the the car door with the other and tossed both the items in the back seat and then did the same to the front passenger seat and threw himself in, resting the back of his head into the palms of his hands and sort of lounged(To the best of his ability as he couldn't figure out how to or even if the seat moved reclined). After he was as comfy as possible Wade spoke: "You know, you didn't have to ruin my mask. It was custom made."

"You didn't need to bust my balls." Frank said.

"Hey man, I did you a favor! It's not like you'll want to have k-…" Wade stopped and pretended that he didn't see the look of poison Frank was giving him.

After a few seconds of silence, the two were off to find this "Jackass".

...

It wasn't long before Jackass was found. It took to two about 45 minutes total, including the 15 minutes it took to get to the same vicinity where Frank met up with him earlier.

They spotted Jackass about two blocks away from where Frank had initially shook him down. He was hobbling down the sidewalk to his apartment. He was literally right about to walk up the steps of his apartment Frank found them. Had they waited any longer or had he hobbled any faster, his life probably would have lasted at least another good week or two. Unfortunately for Jackass, he was knocked out and thrown into the trunk of a car inhabited by a borderline psychopath and a border-crossed psychopath (Frank checked Jackass' coat and pants pockets for weapons. Naturally.).

When he awoke, he was inside of Frank's apartment , hanging upside down. He was tied by his ankles by a belt and it was the lack of blood flow to his brain that woke him up from his slumber. And once he woke up in the kill room of Frank's temporary apartment, he felt like a pool of acid formed and hovered in his stomach. This acid in this pool's ph scale just went up a notch or two as he felt two unseen hands grab him(One on the back of his head and the other on the front of his neck) and something soft repeatedly bumping into the side of his head.

"Hahahaha! This is just like Halo!" said Wade, referring to the countless hours of "teabagging" other players he had done on the said video game.

Jackass did not know why, but the acid in his stomach got considerably more acidic after the fact. Not helping matters was also the fact that, as his eyes adjusted, Jackass saw that ahead of him was a disgruntled Frank walking through a door he was facing with a lit cigar in his mouth.

"Wade, let me see your knife." said Frank

"But, he's my Mr. Stabby Stabby!"

Without a word Frank pulled it out of Wade's ankle sheath and crouched down on both of his feet so that he was face to face with Jackass. It was then that the upside-down man would have pissed himself again if he could.

"So you lied." Frank said.

"I had to, Richie would have killed me." said Jackass through trembles.

"You'd have been better off running from him than from me." Frank said calmly as he ran the knife down Jackass' chest, cutting both shirt and skin, slowly.

Jackass whimpered in equal parts petrification and pain. Blood trickles down from his chest to his neck and face making a thick and bitter fountain of his face as Frank keeps cutting in spots of Jackass' torso and thighs that won't kill him from blood loss, but will be more than enough to scare the shit out of the guy and make a bigger mess out of things. Never taking the knife off of him, only cutting in straight lines.

At this point, by the time Frank brought the knife back to his victim's stomach it was enough to make him(the victim) scream. Frank knew that Jackass had been punished enough to tell him anything that he had wanted to know.

"Are you going to tell me where "Richie" is and anything else I may need to know?" Frank asked after a sigh.

Jackass opened his mouth and began to spill his guts, so-to-speak, along with the plentiful amounts of blood Frank had caused him to lose.

…

The callous borderline-sociopath and the immature psychopath were off to a coffee shop that Richie frequently visits with his degenerate friends after hours for cards, cigars, greasy-ass food, and, what else? Coffee.

"Come on admit it!" Wade continued from the passenger seat of the car.

Frank remained silent.

"Fraankkk" Wade whined, like a 12-year old girl.

Frank continued to sit like an Easter Island head.

"It's not like I killed him! We still got to let him go, so what if he's probably half-deaf?"

Frank, remembered the image of Wade dry-humping Jackass' face with his M1911 pistol and accidentally discharging it(Haha, accidental discharge) blowing off a small part of his ear in the process, and couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"Alright, I'll give you that one, that actually was pretty funny." Said Frank unable to resist a few more chuckles.

Frank definitely wasn't proud of it, but he laughed nonetheless.

"Thank you!" said Wade, as he was rocking a "See? You admitted it." boner.

As they pulled into an alley on the other side of the street next to a set of stairs that led up the the roof of the building they were next to.

"You're still staying in the car for this." Frank said.

"What!? Why?" Wade complained.

Without answering, Frank shut the door after popping open the trunk and walked back to it to pull out his modified M14. He briefly looked through his(big-ass) scope, adjusted the sightings on it a miniscule amount, pulled the extended magazine out of his gun and made sure it was full, put it back in the rifle and threw the rifle over his back after putting his arm and head under the sling. Next, Frank attached the two drum magazines to his belt via two plastic buckles. Before shutting the trunk Frank pulled out the AK with one hand, gripping it by the wooden handguard and shut his trunk with a hearty slam.

As Wade stepped out of Frank's car and stood up he was treated to a suppressor inches away from his face.

"If you want to save yourself from another headache, you'll sit in the goddamned car." Frank explained cooly.

"But-..." Wade began.

THUK! Frank quickly pressed the barrel of his gun to Wade's upper thigh and shot the immature man child, causing a few specks of blood to hit Frank on his scruffled-covered face. He wiped the blood off of his face and explained to Wade(simply to make brief conversation so that his leg wound would regenerate before he sat back down in Frank's car and got blood on his seat):

"I just want this to be over. I'm going to take out Richie but first I want to question him and find out where the drugs and poison are so I can get rid of em."

"But I want to finish him off! Mortal Kombat style!"

"I don't know about that. Now sit down and let me get to work."

Wade hesitated until Frank aimed his gun at Wades crotch, not breaking eye contact with him, staring at Wade with his piercing blue eyes. Upon noticing this, Wade(Also not losing eye contact with Frank, staring at him with his similarly piercing blue eyes) slowly sat down in the passenger seat, scooted his feet and legs into the car,(Still staring directly at Frank) and slowly shut the door.

"That's what I thought." Frank said to himself.

Frank walked over to the wall of the building with the stairs and ladder, and began up the sets of stairs.

…

As Frank reached the roof of the apartment, he walked over to the ledge facing the coffee shop on the other side of the street. Frank set down his assault rifle, un-clipped the two barrel magazines from his belt and set them down next to the AK, and pulled his M14 from his back.

Standing a few feet back from the ledge he looked through the scope, through the shop window at Richie and his accomplices as they were drinking out of little espresso cups and eating what looked like T-Bone steaks with fries. A basket of buffalo-sauce-covered chicken wings sat in the middle of the table between the three degenerates.

Frank recognized Richie sitting on the left side of the table across from his two friends. He fit the description that Jackass had given him:

"Wwh whhwitee hair slicked back and pretty muscleyyy bbbutt not like you… and a few inches shorter."

Resting the bipod on a wooden crate a few feet behind the two-cinderblock-high ledge, he first aimed for the basket of wings in the table's center.

THUCK! Frank fired his modified rifle causing the glass to shatter and the basket of chicken to slide off the table.

He then quickly ran to the right corner of the building and dropped on his stomach(he was crouched at the center front of the building before). It's not like Frank needed to run to a different sniping position to shoot like he had been trained in the Special Forces, on this occasion anyway, as he was far away from his targets and they would not have been able to produce a weapon capable of hitting him with without sheer amounts of luck; but it was muscle memory to Frank to do so and a habit worth keeping.

He then quickly shot back up and looked through his scope to see Richie and his two friends running towards the back door that was to the left of the counter that was facing them. Upon seeing this Frank fired off three shots(The first of which caused the glass to shatter completely, leaving some shards jutting out at each side). The first hitting Richie in the upper half of his left leg, the second hitting the goon to Richie's left on his lower right calf, and the third digging into goon on Richie's right on his upper right leg causing all three of them to hit the ground.

Frank stood up, then threw his M14 over his right shoulder, quickly ran to his left and picked up his AK and re-buckled his two clips to his belt, and ran over to the right and jumped over the side of the building. He grabbed the two rails of the ladder that was next to the stairs and allowed himself to slide down.

He quickly ran towards the shop where the three assholes lay(Frank wouldn't be able to see them until he was reasonably close to the building) with his AK out and ready in front of him. He heard his car door behind him shut and noticed Wade running behind him, his holstered shotgun adding noise with each step, Katanas drawn, and Frank stopped in the middle of the street so that Wade could run and jump through the large, now open rectangle only to fly back and smack into the pavement on his back just after he barely made it through the window. Four shotgun slugs were the cause of Wade's trip to the ground. And there were four sizable holes in Wade's torso. Steam was protruding from where the slugs had hit him and a large pool of blood was forming under Wade.

Frank was to the right of the building in the middle of the street, Wade was a bit further up the street right in front of the building. Frank had his AK-47 out in front of him, ready for anyone that might be headed his way. Not taking his eyes off of what little he could see through the window, (just the wall on the left and a few tables) Frank asked Wade:

"What are we dealing with?"

"Richie's gone through the door, and the other(Wade paused as he briefly choked on his own blood) two chode-mongers are sitting there with their shottys."

Just then the telltale sound of an engine starting and tires squealing as a car sped off, echoed out in the night.

Frank's face remained unchanged as he quickly ran and kicked open the pushable door shooting two quick three-round bursts of bullets into Goon number one and Goon number two's chests painting the wall and door behind them red as he ran towards them.

They fell to the floor dropping their shotguns just as Frank kicked open the door behind them and looked left to see a car turning right at the T that was at the end of that road.

Unhappy, but understanding that the current status quo was to be expected, Frank calmly(But not slowly) walked back into the shop holding his AK up with his right hand, looked down to see that the man to his right had not yet expired, put his AK in his left hand grabbing it by it's wooden handguard, and picked up the man by the back of his blood-stained collared blue shirt and dragged him behind the counter into the kitchen.

He looked around the rather clean-looking restaurant kitchen, set down his AK on the front counter and set the goon's back down on top of the counter and with his left hand held the squirming and squealing man down by pressing down on his chest, gripping his shirt with his right hand and holding the guy's left hand onto a burner on the stove.

Frank noticed Richie's goon was (Doing a bad job of) trying to subtly grab a knife from the knife holder that was just about in his reach. Leaning over and momentarily removing his right hand from the asshole's hand on the burner, Frank grabbed a rather large knife from the holder the asshole was reaching for(ignoring his: "NO NO NO!) and quickly and violently stabbed the man through the top of his hand, effectively tacking it to the counter as the man screamed and screamed the best he could through labored breaths.

"Tell me where Richie scampered off to, and I'll let you live, provided you survive the three bullets I've put in you, and whatever else may kill you." Frank said, monotone as he turned the burner on high and held the man's arm down, gripping his forearm.

Bumbling like a moron, the goon starts with: "It's none of your…" and that quickly turns to "HIS ABANDONED OLD APARTMENT BUILDING! HE BOUGHT AN ABANDONED APARTMENT BUILDING THAT'S WHERE IT IS! TURN IT OFF TURN IT OFF!" once the initial shock wore off and he felt the horrible burning of the flesh on the majority of his hand, he sang like Jay-Z.

"Where is it?" Frank asked patiently, not raising his voice.

"5838 Eel Avenue! That's where it is!" yelled Frank's captive, starting to shake and whine as his hand was being burnt to a red crisp.

Frank pushed the man's arm forward, causing his hand to tap the wall and held on the his arm with his left hand and turned off the burner with his right.

"Oh… oh thank god oh lord! You're, you're not just going to kill me anyway, are ya Mr. Punisher?"

"No." Frank said letting go of the man's arm.

"Oh thank you so much! You have no idea how happy I am! I'm going to find an honest line of work! Really I am, you have no idea Mista. Imma go to church every Sunday, Imma start donating to charities for kids! Imma… Imma stop working for Richie!"

The frantic goon looked over at Frank who was by the counter, taking his large drum magazine out of the gun and switching it with one of the full ones on his belt.

"And uhhh… heh heh, I ain't just sayin that cause you're about to kill em or nothing! No sir! Even if you don't succeed I-"

"Out of the question." Frank said pulling the handle of his assault rifle back, making a satisfying click.

"Well, uhh yeah. Sure, heheh. Like I was sayin! Imma make an honest living! And starting tonight, I-

BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM!

Four shotgun slugs blew the annoying man's torso to shreds, ruining his(Already bloodstained) suit and painting the area around him red, not the least of which came from the one that hit the man directly in the forehead causing the top half of his head to explode.

"This is how we do it! Heheheh! I'm not the only gangsta up in here that carries slugs now am I?!" Wade yelled, beaming under his mask with his large smoking gun held in his hands.

"Goddamnit Wade." Frank said, mildly pissed.

"What? You actually gave a shit about that sappy, "I flipped new leaves" bullshit? They'll always feed you that when you stop torturing them and make them think you're gonna let em go! Trust me! I know!"

"No, it just gets on my nerves to see someone waste ammo like that… and my hunger isn't doing my temper any favors."

"Oh."

"And it's "Turned over a new leaf, Einstein."

"Ugh, now I know my writer is going to edit that out, won't you Taylor?"* Wade said slowly inserting shells from his leather shell-holders into his rather, heh heh, unnecessarily large shotgun.

"Who's... nevermind. I don't want to know." Frank said, annoyed.

*Editor's Note: *Gulp*

...

They were off yet again, this time to 5838 Eel Ave. in Frank's black muscle car. Frank drove, with his usual expressionless look, and Wade lounged in the passenger seat with his smartphone like a 13-year-old.

"Why won't she answer?!" Wade yelled.

Frank continued to drive, silent.

Wade finally called up Larissa, the blue-haired escort that Wade had previously escorted his cock into earlier that night. This surprisingly didn't annoy Frank, even as Wade put the phone on speaker, just to be annoying.

"Why are you calling her now?" Frank asked as the phone rang out loud in the confines of the car.

"Because I'mmm bored… and kinda hungry haha."

"I'm with you on the second part, literally speaking, that is." Frank said, craving some tasty bone-meat(Particular phrasing added, Wade's orders, naturally).

After four rings, a man with an Italian accent answered: "Hello."

"Hey there Tony Soprano, can you put Larissa on the phone?"

"So, you think you're a funny guy don'tcha Mr. Wilson?"

Frank, who was listening in, raised an eyebrow.

"Where is she fuckface?." Wade asked, getting pissed.

"Well, why don't you bring your friend down to-.."

"5838 Eel Avenue?" Wade asked, chuckling.

The line went silent for about 30 seconds before the man said: "You do realize there's no way you'll find Richie now! We're gonna hide him good until you and your friend there are dead!"

"Then we'll be sure to give him a proper goodbye on his way out." said Frank.

"Oh, and who might that be Mista Wilson? Have ya found a temporary butt-buddy?"

"No, it's my good friend Mista Punisher" Wade said, in a hilariously cheesy Italian accent.

The line went quiet again, before the Italian man began, doing a shit-job of trying to sound calm: "Well well well, looks like we've got two big nuisances we won't have to deal with over here. Heheheh, the sooner you two are piles of blood an guts, the better!"

"Good," Frank said, "because we've just arrived."

Wade jerked his hand and hung up on the Italian asshole in one swift movement and they both got out of their respective seats. As they stood up, The Punisher quickly opened the back seat and pulled out his AK-47 as Deadpool quickly put his hands down to check and make sure his hand-cannons were in their respective holsters before reaching back and unsheathing his two katanas.

As The Punisher ran up to the steps, Deadpool shot his arm out, blocking his path with his katana.

"Make sure you watch your fire in there. I don't want you to hit my friend."

"That's a given, I don't shoot innocents." Frank reassured.

"You don't make mistakes?" Wade asked skeptically.

"Nope. Don't you have a wife or girlfriend?" Frank asked trying to remember.

"Well, uhhh, we have an understanding." Wade said.

"Right." Frank said, not knowing nor caring if Wade was lying or not.

They both knew that Richie would be hiding at the top, and they'd have to tear through the many floors that were before them. Without further ado, Deadpool, swords drawn, kicked open the door to the large apartment complex and The Punisher walked in right behind him.