Good Cop, Bad Cop

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...to mourn the passing of God's most precious children; 136 ants. 136 of these dear little workers, our proverbial brothers and sisters, were taken from us, by the hands of Zanegar the Cruel. Held hostage for nigh over four months, this depraved soul killed them one by one each day. Though the pain of this loss was great, I struggled on to bring you this chapter, knowing that those 136 little soldiers would have wanted me to do so. So, dear ones, read on, and remember them, remember the ants that were sacrificed. Because I was lazy. Zanegar, I hope you're proud of yourself...

...Nah, Imma just playin', bro. We cool. Indiscrimminate murder's healthy from time to time...if you're a psychopath.

Disclaimer: No ants were harmed in the making of this chapter...to my knowledge. What you do in your spare time is your own business. I'm sure there are websites for that.

Chapter Five: No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service

"-wers."

Spiderman looked around. "What…?"

The trio of heroes(?) stood outside a dark and musty bar. Muffled music could be felt booming behind the sealed windows. The words "Black Pits" were outlined in flickering neon lights that illuminated the street. Prostitutes lingered near the sidewalk, their tired eyes looking for a customer. A large bouncer was situated at the door, trying to look intimidating.

Deadpool walked up to the bouncer. "Hey Tiny, mind calling your boss out for a quick chat? I'm here to remind him of our high-school reunion. Ah, I remember all the swirlies we had together. Of course, I was doing the swirlies and he was taking them. Good times, good times."

"No one gets in without Vince's say so," said Tiny, crossing his arms, "So make like a tree and get outta here."

Ah ha ha ha! That was funny!

Ha ha! No.

"Hah, but seriously," Deadpool raised his weapons and trained them on the poor
bouncer, "We need to go in there, and you're in the way. And if you're in the way, then we can't get in there, so I'll have to get you out of the way. In a body bag. The only color I have left is hot pink; is that okay with you?" He pulled from his fanny pack a hot pink body bag. Tiny ran.

Why do they always run when we pull that out? Pink is the new black!

"And it matches the color of blood! We should host Design Star instead of that tramp Tanika. That girl needs to know that yellow is not a color."

Hey! I thought yellow was our thing!

"Yeah, when there's color involved. If you haven't noticed, this is print, so just deal with being bold and italic thought sentences."

Deadpool made a move of going towards the door, but was stopped by Spiderman's shout.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Said the costumed hero. "Someone better tell me what's going on or I'm webbing the whole place up!" He followed up his threat by pointing his wrists at the merc and Rorschach. "I mean it!"

"Easy there, Spidey, careful where you're pointing those," said Wade with his hands up, "We're just doing our part in cleaning up society, same as you."

"Yeah, I'm sure," scoffed Spidey. "Except your definition of 'cleaning' translates to 'first degree murder'. How much are you getting paid this time?"

"Those guys deserved it! And I'm not getting paid at all! This is personal. Me 'n Spot both have a bone to pick with a guy, and this guy knows a guy who talks to that guy, so we need this guy to point us to that guy who knows our guy. So we can pick up his bones."

Huh?

Huh?

"I'm not letting you kill anyone else, Deadpool, criminals or not! Get ready for a smack-down, Ugly!" Spider-man crouched down in a fighting stance.

Ugly?

Well I never!

"Dem's fightin' words! Put up your dukes and have at thee!"

"Stop."

Rorschach's growl stopped them both from attacking. Deadpool turned to him and trembled his lower lip.

"But-but-but, he called me ugly!"

"Quiet." Rorschach growled again in annoyance. "No more distractions. Need to get Di Marco." He turned to address Spider-man. "Hunting a crime lord. Di Marco's an underling. Don't stop us. Don't get in our way."

Spider-man backed down a little, but was still resolute. "I won't let you kill anyone. If you're trying to catch a criminal, then I'll help you, but I'll also need to keep an eye on you guys." He landed a glare at the mercenary, who returned it with a grin. Rorschach growled something that sounded suspiciously like 'weak' and 'useless', but Peter decided to ignore that.

"Don't you have school tomorrow morning?" Deadpool asked mockingly. "Why don't you go web up some cheerleader skirts and leave this to the pros?"

"What, do you stalk me or something? No wait, scratch that, you might actually get paid for it."

"I don't need to stalk you to know you haven't been getting any action, if you know what I mean. Has shooting all them webs left you shooting blanks? Oh wait, you can't even shoot 'cuz you've never even-"

"Enough." Rorschach had his fill of their mindless bickering. "Wasting time."

"Well, you heard the man," Deadpool grinned, his attitude towards the new addition to the group changing drastically, "Looks like we've got ourselves a threesome."

"Don't say it like that. It's…disturbing." Spider-man looked skeptically at the bar. "Where are we, anyways?"

Wade hopped over to the door and opened it. "Well, Dorothy," he said over the loud blast of music and noise that flowed from the entrance, "You sure ain't in Queens no more."

Staying true to its name, the Black Pits was a dimly lit place filled with noise, smoke, and seizure-inducing lights. Several of its individual booths were filled with burly thugs, enjoying their down time with some entertainment, while the others were situated next to the stage, transfixed on the dancers on-stage. A bar was in the center of the room, keeping the occupants of the club to the lower levels of sobriety.

They kept to the sides of the room so they wouldn't be spotted. The darkness of the room and blinding lights helped. The half-naked dancers also helped draw attention away from them. Rorschach couldn't keep the disgust off his face as they made their way to the back. Deadpool couldn't be happier.

"Hellooooo Nurse!~" He whistled at one of the dancers.

"Aren't they, uh, chilly?" Spidey asked hesitantly, trying not to stare at the scantily clad women. And failing. MJ would kill me if she knew I was here! He thought nervously.

"Don't tell me you're never been to a strip club, Spidey!" Deadpool gasped in shock. "You poor, poor little man. What kind of sick, deprived life are you living? !"

"A normal one."

"Killjoy. I don't know what that red-head sees in you."

Maybe…because they're both red?

"I'm red too! How come I don't get a hot red-head?"

"What did you say about M-, Uh, a red-head?" Spider-man asked, a slight panic in his voice.

"Nothing. Come on, we're losing Spot."

They reached a hallway that led to several smaller rooms for private functions. At the end of the hall was a door flanked by two guards.

"No doubt that's Di Marco's room." Said Spidey as they peaked from behind the corner. "But Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum will make a ruckus if they see us."

As an answer to his observation, a shadow…uh…a shadow…um…uh…lemme see…eh…hmm, what happens next? Uh…something, something…man, I could really use a cheeseburger right now…hmm, maybe some pizza rolls…Do I have any kumquats? Where do I buy those? Gotta do some grocery shopping for this week…

What's going on?

I think it's hungry.

…Did my paycheck come in yet? God, I'm broke. Maybe I shouldn't have spent so much on comic books…but I need research material…hmm…did I turn off the stove? I think I smell smoke.

"Ahem."

That better not be smoke. I don't think I have house insurance. Which reminds me, I'm kinda hungry. I could really go for a cheeseburger…or some kumquats…

"AHEM!"

…Eh?

"Dude! I thought this was MY story, not 'Diary of a Mediocre Writer'!"

…Mediocre?

"The people don't wanna hear about your stupid problems, they want to hear about mine!"

…Stupid?

"So hurry up and get on with it!"

…ಠ_ಠ

Uh-oh.

Now you've done it. Nice job, genius.

"What? What did I do-?"

Deadpool barely had time to finish his sentence before a gaping black hole opened up beneath him.

"What the-? !"

He screamed like the little girly-man he was as he fell through the void. In fact, as he fell, he somehow tumbled through a clod of laundry, and came out wearing a frilly pink dress. And he had blonde pigtails. And his name is now Tiddlywinks. And Super Bass was playing on a loop in the background.

"Not cool! Not cool! Not cool!" Shrieked Tiddlywinks as he tried tearing the dress off, but to no avail, for it was fused to his very soul. Giant pictures of his mom in scandalous clothing floated around him, forever searing their images into his eyes. They throbbed in sync with the 'Boom, boom, boom, boom' that blasted throughout the hell-void.

This is all your fault, Tiddlywinks!

"I'm sorry! I didn't know! I'll be good! Just make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!"

"Wait here."

Spider-Man was about to reply but Rorschach quickly slipped away. He didn't know what kind of powers the strange man possessed, and could only hope it was something that could get them past this situation.

"Hey Deadpool, what do you think he's- Deadpool?"

The merc beside him seemed to be in a daze and was muttering incoherently under his breath. He thought he heard the words 'Tiddlywinks', but brushed that thought aside and attempted to communicate with the man.

"Hey! Snap out of it, Wilson! Wade!"

"-Huh?" Wade blinked a couple of times, his eyes now focused. "Wha-?" He patted his body, not finding any frills or laces. "I'm back? I'm back! Oh thank god!"

"You okay, man?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm super- er, uh, I'm great! Totally! Let's do this! But uh…could you just hold onto this for me? Maybe burn it?"

He handed Peter the pink body bag he had used to threaten the usher. The superhero looked at it skeptically, and tossed it in the trash.

"Where'd Spot go?" Asked Wade.

"I dunno, but he told us to wait here. But whatever he's planning, it'd better be quick. I don't think we can stay hidden for long."

At that moment, there was the sound of a smashed bottle and a heated argument broke out at one of the tables that quickly lead to shoves and pushes, and finally punches. It seems one of the patrons was accusing another of spilling his drink, while the other accused him of stealing his drink. The fight began spilling towards the center and started drawing the attention of everyone in the bar, including that of the bodyguards. They left their post and tried to quell the fighting. By this time, Rorschach slipped back to the waiting pair, a half-filled shot glass in his hand. He sniffed the drink, made a face, and tossed it behind his shoulder. Then he cocked his head in the direction of Di Marco's room.

The two watched in amazement as the fedora'd man stalked down the corridor.

"Wow."

"I know, right? And he's my partner."

They gathered near the doorway, and at a nod, Rorschach opened the door. A man, presumably Di Marco, sat in a cushioned seat with his legs propped up on the desk in front of him. His face was hidden by the newspaper he was reading, and the minute the trio entered the room, he started shouting.

"What the fuck is going on out there? You tell them to shut the fuck up or I'll gut the lot of 'em. Bonnie's been bitchin' to me non-stop about them dumbfucks out there and the Boss is on my ass about the botched jobs. It's not like it's my fault when those fuckers show up during a gig. Whoever they are, those fucktards are doing a real nice job of fucking with-"

He slammed his paper down, only to come face-to-face with a trio of men in costumes. Deadpool waved and greeted him with a "Hi!"

"The fuck is this shi-"

A wad of web fluid found itself sticking to his mouth, effectively sealing his words.

"Someone's got a potty mouth," said Spidey, "Don't they teach you any manners at Sleazeball College?" He then proceeded to web the man to the chair.

"I dunno, man. I don't think he even passed high school physics."

"Did you pass high school physics?"

There was a pause."…So, Vince Di Marco, if that is indeed your real name," Deadpool paced across the room, an arm behind his back and a hand scratching his chin, "Where were you on the night of the 25th?"

He got furious muffled grunts as an answer. Rorschach was ignoring everything and began searching the shelves and leafing through documents.

"Oh a wise guy, eh? Well maybe this will dumb you down a little!" He pulled out a gun and aimed it at the man's head. "Where are the Death Star plans? Are they with the droids? If these aren't the droids we're looking for, then so god help me I'll-!"

Unfortunately he couldn't follow up on his threat because his gun was yanked out of his hand by Rorschach.

"Ask him details of future jobs, the Boss, locations, hideouts, anything, but. Do. Not. Kill."

"Now that's just unreasonable, Spot," Wade pouted, but obeyed nonetheless. "Com'ere, Bug-Breath; we're gonna play a little 'Good Cop, Bad Cop' with dear old Vince."

"Lemme guess, you're gonna be the Bad Cop?"

"Wrong; you're playing Bad Cop, I'm playing Worse Cop."

Rorschach's Journal: December 11th, 2nd Entry

Picked up a new tag-along. Spider-Man. Recognized him from newspaper articles, headlines, evening news. Editor is unusually biased. Not a menace; hardly a threat.

First impression? Naïve. Weak. A child playing hero. This city will find him crushed and broken, and sweep the mess away like rubbish, destined to be forgotten. Him, and others like him won't save this city. They can't. I can.

The Annoyance seems familiar with him. Directs his inane ramblings towards the newcomer, and they bicker and fight like children. Saves me the headache. I leave them to their game.

Di Marco's room makes for bare pickings on the Boss and his organization. Hrm. Not very high on the food chain. Several clues point to other members, but more information needed to locate the Boss. The list of drug-stores confuses me. Future heists for petty cash? Ingredients? Something feels off. Will begin investigation on lower-level leaders, and work my way up. Best way to clear an infestation.

Vince Di Marco is…dispensable.

"What's that you're writing, a diary?"

Rorschach closed his book with a snap. The Spider-themed superhero quickly pulled his head back as he was treated with what he guessed was a glare. It was hard to tell with all those moving spots. A small, deeply-suppressed part of Rorschach's mind was petulant that he had to crane his neck to look at the hero.

"Journal."

"Oh! Right, journal, of course. Um, why?"

"Documentation of truth, proof of existence."

"Why would you need proof of existence?" asked Spider-man quizzically.

"In case I die before truth is revealed." Again.

"Oh." There was an awkward pause. "You know, I can't help but feel like I've seen you somewhere before. It might just be that you and the Spot have similar taste in color pallets, no offense or anything. Deadpool's nicknames sure isn't helping. You'd think I'd remember someone with a mask like yours, huh?"

"Oi, Bug-Breath! Switch!" Deadpool yelled whilst putting the cap back on his marker. Behind him Vince Di Marco was still strapped to his chair, only with the addition of childish scribbles all over his face in black ink, which were contorted by the furious expression he wore. Spider-Man visibly groaned.

"I'm not drawing anything else on his face. Did you even ask him questions?"

"Hey man, you said 'No maiming, no breaking'. A dude's gotta improvise." The merc twirled the sharpie between his fingers. "Think he'll look good with a moustache?"

Spider-Man smacked his forehead in exasperation, but a knock on the door drew his attention.

"Hey, boss, I gots ta report to youse about the thing up front. Ricky said Frank done stole his drink and…" The thug droned on about the incident resolved, oblivious to the fact that his boss was tied up and shouting out furious muffled curses. All three costumed figures in the room tensed, but Rorschach was the first to react.

"We're done here. Go deal with them." He whispered the order and gestured towards the door.

"Well, Spidey, ya up for a good old fashioned bar brawl?" Deadpool asked excitedly.

"And here I thought this was going to be a peaceful night." The hero looked over to Rorschach. "You coming?" He still hadn't seen what the guy's power was, apart from the grappling gun, so he was unsure of what would happen to him in a bar fight.

Rorschach simply walked over to the desk and began gathering up various documents. "Finishing up here. Have fun."

"We will, Spot!" Wade shouted as he kicked down the door, taking down the rambling thug that was standing behind it. Spider-man quickly followed, shouting "Fists only, Deadpool!" as he punched out the thug's partner. An uproar could be heard as the rest of the establishment noticed the presence of the two red-clad supers and soon the smashing of tables and shattering of glass drifted down the hallway.

Amidst the deafening noise of the commotion, Rorschach calmly sorted the paper documents in his hands tucked them deep in the folds of his trench-coat. He scoured the room once more for any clues he might have missed. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the bound Di Marco.

The man was still struggling to break free of his bonds. Rorschach walked up and quickly tore the webbing off his mouth. The man yelled in pain before letting off a stream of curses and threats.

"You freaks will be sorry you ever fucked with me! I'll find you and rip that fucking mask off and-"

His threat was cut off by a gun jammed down his throat. It was the same gun Deadpool had used to threaten him, before Rorschach took it away. And it was Rorschach who now had his finger on the trigger. Fear slowly took hold of him as he stared into the flowing black splotches on white. He didn't dare swallow, afraid that the slightest movement would set off the gun. In the background, he could hear gunshots, fired either by his men or by that red and black lunatic. His eyes widened as the swirling face drew closer.

"What mask?"

In the midst of Deadpool's blazing gunfire and those of Di Marco's men, no one heard the single shot that rang out from the backroom.

Rorschach looked down at the red-stained corpse before him with indifference. The patterns on his mask morphed serenely, reflecting his own emotions, or lack thereof. He searched the body for any useful information, then grabbed a small scrap of paper and a sharpie. He folded the paper in half and crudely sketched a simple symbol on both halves of the paper. The Boss knew what this was. He'll know that Rorschach was coming for him. He dropped his calling card on the desk before exiting the office.

By now, the entire bar's worth of thugs and minions had been dealt with, so Rorschach calmly stepped over the groaning mass of bodies on the floor. Deadpool and Spider-Man were waiting outside, the latter telling the mercenary off for the use of guns. The only excuse he got was 'They shot me first'.

When Rorschach appeared, they abandoned their squabble and prepared to exit the scene before the police showed up. Spider-Man quickly declined Deadpool's offer of using the teleporter, preferring his own web-swinging mode of transport. Before he swung off, he bade a farewell to Rorschach and, grudgingly, Deadpool.

"At least you didn't kill anyone this time," Spidey said.

"There's always next time!"

"Right. Don't get too involved with this guy, Rorschach, he's bad news." He placed a hand on Rorschach's shoulder, who suppressed an involuntary flinch. Why did these Masks have to be so…physical? "If you need any help with this crime lord, I know several guys who specialize in that area." Another red-clad hero came to mind. "Just call me up at the Avengers Mansion; the guys there know how to reach me. But just know that you don't have to rely on a journal if you want the truth to get out. I have a contact who works for the paper. A word from me and he can get your story published out to the masses."

So he wanted to help. Cute.

"Hrm. Will keep that in mind."

Spider-Man seemed satisfied with the response he got. Deadpool, on the other hand, was getting jealous of his 'bonding-time' with Spot.

"Back off, Romeo. In case you haven't read the last chapter, it's 'Rorschach and Deadpool', not 'Rorschach and the Spider Wonder'. So go swing on back to the Spider-Cave."

"You still haven't built it for me."

"You said you didn't want one!"

Spider-Man didn't bother replying. Instead he shot out a web-line and swung off into the night. Rorschach watched the rapidly shrinking figure of the super-hero, knowing that the next time they meet, those webs would be aimed at him. Well, he'll be ready for it.

Unbeknownst to the mismatched duo, a figure quietly slipped into the shadows of the alleyway.

Peter Parker swung by the Avengers Mansion the next morning, with the intent to inform the other heroes of a possible future visitor. He found the other members gathered around the television monitor, watching the morning news.

"Last night a bar fight erupted down on 14th Street. The establishment, aptly named the Black Pits, has long been suspected of being a hide-out for members of an underground drug ring, this particular one headed by a Vince Di Marco. However, when police arrived on the scene, Di Marco was found dead in his office, shot in the head by a small caliber weapon. Di Marco was the only fatality, and witnesses say they saw Spider-Man and the infamous mercenary Deadpool (a.k.a. Wade Wilson) enter the club shortly before the fight broke out. No word yet on Spider-Man's involvement with the death of Di Marco.

"Witnesses also say that a third individual was seen accompanying them, and a calling card left on Di Marco's desk has been identified as a trademark symbol of the recent appearance of the as-of-yet-unnamed vigilante known for his rather gruesome handling of criminals. The only images we have of this man are traffic camera footages" The screen cut to a grainy video clip of a man running into an alley, stopping, before a hand dragged him into the shadows. A few seconds passed before a figure in a trench-coat and fedora walked out, the black and white mask distinguishable even in the fuzzy image. "The New York Police Department is asking anyone with information on this dangerous individual to please step up and provide…"

Peter finally remembered where he had seen that mask.

Notes: Remember kids, Rorschach is a homicidal maniac! So if you don't want to be a goddamned lunatic, eat lots of kumquats! They're good for your sanity! Heheh...hehehehehhahhhh...!

- Chindu, Prince of KUMQUATS