Chapter 2: Cool To Park Here?

The gargantuan beast of a monster truck roared through the small apartment complex like a hungry dinosaur, destroying all in its path in pursuit of its meal. Although this would seem like a proper time for a cinematic chase scene between our hero, Wade and the monster truck, it truly isn't. The truck goes through the house, catching Wilson quickly under its tires and breaking both of the Merc's legs under the pressure. Our protagonist quickly hatches a heroic plan in his genius mind, holler in pain.

"My f**ckin' legs! Why the legs?!" yelled Deadpool at the top of his lungs in a shrill, surprised voice.

Just then, the driver's seat opened, out came a rough looking man. He was almost as gruesome as Deadpool himself (If that was possible), the man was tall standing at around six and a half feet, he was unshaven with a five o'clock shadow, his wife beater was wet from his perspiring chest( Because all cool guys sweat a lot in tense situations. WHO'S WITH ME?) , and his green cargo pants were tucked into his combat boots. The man chuckled a bit at Deadpool while he struggled underneath the tire in pain.

"Kingpin wants you for a job, believe it or not, he's found you worthy. So come along with me or I won't have to kill you." said the still sweating man.

" Oh, a job? How convenient!" Deadpool said with glee in his eyes and then continued, the look of happiness fading from his eyes," Then why'd you have to run over my legs?!"

"Well you can never be to certain, I mean, what if you rejected our offer?" replied the stranger.

"Makes sense, I guess…" Deadpool said, already regenerating his legs and cracking them back into place after the man backed the monster truck up a bit so he could get his legs out from under it.

"This guy a psycho or what?" his inner thoughts pondered to him.

"You can say that again…" Deadpool said aloud to his thoughts.

"This guy a psycho or what?" his inner thoughts pondered to him.

"I didn't mean literally, smart-ass." Deadpool replied.

The stranger stared at him for a moment; he then gained the confidence to ask in a bewildered voice, "You okay, buddy?"

"I'm trying to have a conversation here, don't be rude." Wilson told the man.

"Whatever, the names Axl."

"Can I have a vowel please, Trebeck?" Deadpool questioned referencing "Celebrity Jeopardy".

"What?"

"Nevermind"

"Sure…Just…Get in the truck before I choke you to death." Axl replied with a tone of hostility in his voice.

"If that's what you're into sure, let me go grab my stuff first. Oh I can tell were going to be the BEST of friends!" Deadpool exclaimed with joy as he fit his mask over his face and ran off to his closet.

While Wilson was away Axl scanned his eyes across the room looking about the debris of the apartment. This was bland as bland could be, gray walls, wooden floors, a mini fridge next to the mercenary's reclining chair, a coffee table next to it with the remote control and a pistol atop it, and a flat screen T.V. about three or four feet away from the chair.

"Definitely the household of a serial killer or a mercenary, and he's probably both." Axl thought to himself.

Just then Wade walked out in full costume with a sombrero on his head and overalls over his suit. He had a fully automatic assault rifle over on side of his shoulder and a shotgun over his other, a rocket launcher was strapped over his back over the two guns. Grenades were also hanging from his chest, while machine gun bullets dangled from his neck, he had two desert eagle pistols in holsters around his belt. With two fingers on his left hand he carried a suitcase full of ammunition for each different gun and with the two other fingers and his thumb he held a small backpack, filled to the brim with explosives. With his right hand he grasped his two katanas.

"I'm ready to kick ass a chew bubble gum…And I'm all out of bubblegum." Deadpool said ever so heroically climbing in to the monster truck with much difficulty.

Axl watched this odd, smelly man climb into his truck with all the equipment with a look of confusion.

"Yes definitely a mercenary…and a serial killer." Axl thought to himself, then spitting on the ground a bit fat piece of phlegm and climbed into the driver's seat kicking it and shutting the door, pulling it into reverse. He backed out of the apartment complex and fell out where he had crashed in; upon impact he crushed a small dog might we add. Axl and our hero drove off into the sunset. Wilson finally had a paying job, and for the biggest crime boss in New York. What dirty work will the Kingpin make Wade do? Who knows? I do, but that's not until next chapter so, you'll probably have to wait until I update it. Unless you were psychic, which would be bad for me, now wouldn't it?

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 3