"It was another rainy ...REALLY rainy...day in the ol' Big Apple." He narrated for himself as he edged along the alley-way, his suit clinging in a not fun without a slip-n-slide or Hooter Girls kinda way. "The RENOWN mercenary known...everywhere...as Deadpool, crept silently..."

"Ow!" Hollered the hobo Deadpool had just planted his foot on. He liked to think of them as Hobos, not bums. Hobo's implied train-rides and jolly rosy cheeked alcoholics with all their worldly goods tucked into a hankie bundle on a stick. People of the EARTH. Salty even. "Get yer freak foot off me-"

click

"Shut yer cherubic pie-stealin' cake-hole, Steamtrain Willie, Can't you see I'm MONOLOGUING." The Hobo-American fell silent staring down the gun barrel aim at his cherry nose. "Have a Happy Trampy Day...or something!"

The guy made some cheery wheezy noises as Deadpool removed his foot from his solar plexus and continued on his damp, but purposeful way.

Sorta.

"Due to an a streak of luck, earlier that day, whilst..." Whilst? Was that a word? He'd check later. He was due some quality readin' time...just had to check the porcelain throne for booby-traps and super-glue. Holy Zeus on a Traffic-Cone, that took A LOT of peanut butter and baby oil--and regeneration--to free himself last time. Al had been out of cancer-sticks. It had been a dangerous few days around the Deadhut.

But, he digressed, "...on a completely unrelated job, our hero found himself a little group of Weapon Xer Sleazeballs nabbing some mouthy dweeb named Manny, who was too annoying to rescue," He slipped around a dumpster, staring down at the map in his hands. "But he was able to get his hands on One Very Special Doctor." Deadpool stopped and turned the map upside down. "..and after being whisked away to the Deadhut for some bonding time..."

He'd given the guy a manicure, over a bowl of Drain-o, but he didn't get to spring the surprise of "You're soaking in it" ala Old Skool Palmolive Commercial. The Doc figured it out pretty quick.

No one appreciated pop culture classics anymore.

"...our intrepid warrior learned of a Weapon X cell and decided to call upon those spandex-ed Mutie Wonder-Geeks known as the X-Men..."

His map was all soggy from the deluge.

He brought it close to his masked face. He shoulda made a right at Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, and then gone through Tomorrowland...maybe if he made for Tom Sawyer's Island.

Nah, the Haunted Mansion was closer.

Jeez, how the heck was he gonna kinda find an X-Guy in this kinda weather?

"...so now he searches, looking for those that protect the world from other freaks and are hated and feared and are waaaaaaay too into leather..."

Maybe he should go make like an attacked mutie, or attack a mutie, or BE a Bad Guy in Mutie Drag.

Shiny.

Crap! Did he remember to set his TiVo?