“So wait, is this like a game show or something?”
“No, I think it’s more like someone’s twisted version of Survivor.”
“But it’s not a game show? Damn, I was hoping Bob Barker was going to tell me to ‘Come on Down!!’”
“Okay, time to focus. Somewhere out here there’s a very angry Greek who wants to turn us into souvlaki.”
“But I really wanted to win a car! Oh, and watch that yodelling guy climb the mountain! I love that little guy.”
Deadpool’s inner dialogue keeps his mind off of the task at hand, but it doesn’t make him any less aware, it is simply a symptom of his psychosis. His target, the Greek warrior Kratos, though not without baggage, is not cursed with such duplicity and is as dangerous an opponent as he has faced.
“You never did tell me how we’re going to confront this guy.”
“Me?! I thought you were the brains of the operation?
“Oh man…we’re boned.”
Skulking through the undergrowth Wade Wilson tracks the rogue Spartan; it proves to be easier than expected. Kratos cuts a swath of destruction through the forest; in his search for Wilson he leaves shattered trees and scorched earth in his wake. It’s not long before he comes across his quarry
“Where are you little man!?” Kratos asks the trees.
“I think he’s talking to you buddy.”
“What? But that means he’s talking to you too.”
“Nope, not anymore, this is all you. I don’t want any part of our demise. You fight him.”
“Well, I gots to do, what I gots to do.” And with that, the Merc with the Mouth tempts fate and lunges from the foliage, swords drawn, screaming “BANZAI!!”
But Kratos is ready for him. As Deadpool’s swords bear down on his exposed back, he unleashes Poseidon’s rage, engulfing the mercenary in blue lightning, destroying flesh and searing bone. The force of the blast throws Deadpool backward, his body ricochets off trees.
“Well that didn’t quite go as planned.”
“May I suggest a new strategy…how about not getting electrocuted? That sounds like something we should look into.”
“Alright, I’ll take it up with the board at the next meeting, but right now I’m busy killing this albino.”
Before Wilson can even stand, the Greek is on top of him, his chain blades glowing an ominous orange colour. “Any last words cretin?” Kratos asks, preparing to deliver one final blow.
“Umm, ya…have you ever thought about getting a tan? Your complexion could really use some time in the sun.” Deadpool says with a smirk.
“No wait; we should’ve said ‘mukluk’!”
And with that one last musing, Kratos drives his blades deep into Wilson’s chest and neck, splitting him into three mangled pieces. Deadpool slowly bleeds out; with his last thought he wonders what he would look like with flaming chains attached to his wrists…“badass” comes to mind.